Page 73 of Lost Lyrebird

Finn’s expression is fierce—a tempest gathering strength.There’s desire, but also a massive amount of tension in his body, a warning in his eyes, and his unbreakable control appears to be crumbling, which sends an intoxicating rush of adrenaline through me.

Everything else fades away.I get lost in the turbulent emotions rolling off him, his dark stare, and in the client’s desperation.I absorb all of it and let them fuel the fantasies that run wild and take up primary residence in my mind.

I try my damndest to keep myself in check.I really do.But then she touches him, nearly puts her mouth on him, and all bets are off.My mind rebels.A rush of signals, like synapses firing, has my muscles coiling and moving on their own.

I don’t give a fuck if he has money, if she needs it, or if this guy’s a powerful man who could fuck with my business.Because none of that changes the fact that he’s undeserving of even a fraction of her attention or time.

For that matter, neither am I, but these thoughts don’t stop me from moving forward, or from my control over my emotions dwindling.

Something about her gets to me.Like this woman alone can tug and pull on the strings of my sanity and break me down to what I am at my very core.A man riding the edge of madness.

The need for her resonates so loudly inside of me that watching her with another man has my heart pounding like a fucking drum.

This undeniable connection tethering us demands to be known and felt, and trying to push it away has it doubling back twice as strong.When it began, I have no fucking idea.Maybe that sounds corny as hell.But it was there the first day she arrived, standing over me, shining like a fucking beacon of hope and light during a dark day.

I let her slip through my fingers, and this is the result.

This act.A dance.Something I pay her for.Fuck.Yes, fuck!I’m the dumb fuck who pays her for this.To perform for another and offer up her body, planting the seed in the client’s head that he could have her.

The fucked-up-ness of it hits me like a giant goddamn demolition ball to the gut and keeps coming until it’s impossible to stand here another moment and act indifferent to it all.

It should be simple.Un-fucking-complicated.

She’s what I want.

To see more of.To get to know.All the big and little things.All of it.There’s a vacant spot at the center of my goddamn world and inner circle, and instead of letting a ghost occupy it for the rest of my days, this woman—who’s turned my life upside down—could fill it.

It’s what I want, but I’ve been too cautious and haven’t given voice to it.

As if she hears the emotions raging inside of me from where I stand, her soul-searing eyes lift, searching me out.I take another step forward and meet her gaze with my own.For a heartbeat, the connection we share flares to life.Her movements slow.Time seems to allow us space, as if paying this moment the respect it deserves, allowing us both time to recognize and feel it.

The truth of whatever the fuck this is vibrates in my chest.It digs in so deeply that it fucks with me a bit.It makes me think all kinds of irrational thoughts about a future we don’t have because it’s one I most likely won’t live long enough to see.

But the way she’s staring at me… I see that same truth mirrored.

And I know—God, I know—she feels it too.The way she looks at me tells me what her mouth denies.

Her gaze shifts back to the man in front of her.She smiles flirtatiously at him.

Our moment shatters.I swear to God, I hear glass breaking in my head at the same moment that a strike of pain spears through my temple.It blinds me momentarily.

The next few minutes are a tilt-a-whirl of hell to witness.She twists the knife deeper as she moves over him.Touches him.Tempts him with a near kiss.Whispers little secrets in his ear.

Secrets that I wish were mine and mine alone.

The vibrations, the fucking rattle that starts in my bones, the fever on my skin, is otherworldly.

Un-fucking-explainable.

The song ends, and a new one slowly begins.This one, pure sex.

Her hips rise and fall.Her nails sink into his shirt as she holds on to his shoulders and grinds down.Her head kicks back, causing her hair to sway down her back.Then her hand goes down to the tie on her corset, and she slowly starts to loosen the string holding it together.

Before it falls open, she clutches it with one hand, prolonging the reveal.But I can’t.I can’t… I can’t watch one more damn moment of this.I already want to put my fist through this asshole’s face.If he sees even another inch of her skin—or touches her in any way—I’m not sure he’ll live to see tomorrow.

Before I can react, she peels the fucking corset away and drops it to the floor at her feet.

The snap is fucking audible in my head.