The club is a madhouse.
Just how I like it.
Customers are packed around the bar yelling orders, their voices all blending into one loud din.
I’m moving like a machine, pouring drinks, filling shots and sliding cocktails across the bar. Mark’s working the other end, equally swamped but still managing to crack a joke here and there.
“Two mojitos, a Long Island, and a shot of tequila!” someone shouts.
I smirk, shaking the cocktail shaker in one hand while grabbing a bottle of rum with the other.
“Coming right up!” I call back. In less than a minute, the mojitos are garnished and on the counter, and I’m already pouring the Long Island mix.
“You’re a magician, Erin!” a guy says, lifting his glass.
“I prefer expert in my craft, but magician works too!”
The tips are flowing as fast as the drinks. Things are moving nonstop, and I feel the familiar rush of satisfaction.
The crowd finally thins a little, and I’m wiping down the counter, catching my breath. Mark sidles up next to me, holding a tray of glasses.
“You’re killing it tonight.”
“Thanks,” I say, grabbing a fresh rag. “You too, but we’re not done yet.”
“Nope, and that’s why you’re taking a break.” He points toward the back door.
I raise an eyebrow. “A break? Do you see this crowd?”
Mark laughs. “Exactly why you need one. Go take five before the next rush hits. I’ve got this.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he holds up a hand, shaking his head. “Nope. Break. Now.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “Fine, but only because I trust you not to burn the place down.”
“Gee, thanks.” He winks before turning back to the bar and the crowd of customers on the other side.
As I step out into the alley, the cool night air hits my face, and I take a deep breath, letting it calm the buzz in my head. It’s peaceful out here. Almost too peaceful, really. As soon as I’m alone, I realize I’d rather be back in the action.
Then I hear a scream. It cuts through the quiet, high-pitched and full of terror. My head snaps up and I see Tiffany, running across the street, panic all over her face. Two men are chasing her, both dressed head-to-toe in black.
My heart’s racing. I need to help her.
“Tiffany!” I shout.
She doesn’t hear me. She’s too focused on running, her steps uneven as she stumbles.
I run to the end of the alley, my heart pounding, but when I try to step out, I slam into an invisible wall. The force jolts me backward, and I reach out, my hands pressing against what feels like solid glass, though there’s nothing there.
“What the hell?”
Tiffany runs further down the street, but the men are getting closer.
I have to do something. I whirl around to head back inside to get Samuel, but the door is gone. How is this possible? The door I’d just stepped through is now nothing but solid brick.
I rush back to the invisible wall, spotting Tiffany again.
“Tiffany!” I scream, pounding on the invisible barrier as if sheer willpower could break it. She’s slowing now, her legs giving out as the men close in.
“Tiffany, run!” I shout, but my voice feels small, swallowed by the night. One of the men grabs her arm, and she screams.
And so do I.
I jolt awake, gasping for breath, my heart hammering against my ribs.
The room is dark and quiet, the only sound the faint ticking of the clock on the nightstand. I’m in Samuel’s bed, alone. It wasn’t real, only a horrible nightmare.
I press a hand to my chest, trying to steady myself. But even as the fear fades, the image of Tiffany running, the sound of her screaming, lingers in my mind.
As much as I want to be at work, I know Samuel made the right call in making me take the night off.
I check my phone, hoping for a text from Tiffany’s mom. There’s nothing. She’s probably doting on her daughter.
I need to find Samuel. A quick check of the clock on the nightstand reveals that it’s a little after nine.
He’s in his home office, seated at his massive desk. He’s dressed casually in a fitted grey Henley that stretches across his broad chest and arms, paired with dark jeans. The way he leans back in his chair, one hand absently rubbing his jaw as he stares at his laptop screen, makes him look effortlessly sexy.
My body reacts in the annoying, uncontrollable way it always does around him.
He glances up, and when his eyes meet mine, a slow, warm smile spreads across his face.
Damn him.
“Hey. What are you doing up?”
“Thinking about making coffee,” I reply, stepping into the room. “Want me to bring you a cup?”
“Way ahead of you. But if you wouldn’t mind topping me off.” He gestures to the big, dark green mug on his desk.
His smile is so disarming and I find myself grinning back, my earlier tension melting away. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The way his eyes linger on me as I turn toward the kitchen sends a spark of heat through me.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better. I think. Still a little shaken up from everything, but better.”
He gets up from his chair, moving toward me in smooth strides. He takes my hand, his touch sending a cool wave of relief through me.
“You’re going to be okay. Just give it time.”
“I know. But I’m not the one I’m worried about.”
“I called to check on Tiffany a little bit ago and was able to talk to her mom. She’s doing well, considering. They’re thinking another couple of days and she’ll be well enough to leave.’
Relief rushes through me. “I want to see her later.”
“Of course,” he replies, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “But I’m going to drive you there and back. No arguments.”
Part of me bristles at his protectiveness. But another part of me is grateful. He wants to make sure I’m safe, and nothing’s going to stop him, not even my protests.
“Fine.” I roll my eyes and sigh.
“Good,” he says. “Now, go get that coffee.” He follows up his words with a wink.
I take his mug and head to the kitchen, the warmth of his hand still lingering on mine.
This domestic bliss, this easy give-and-take, it’s all new to me, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it. But I do like it, maybe a little too much.
As I fill our cups, my thoughts drift to Samuel. What I feel for him is so much more than lust. There’s something deeper between us, something that terrifies and excites me in equal measure. And while I’m sure he feels something for me too, I can’t help but wonder how deep it runs.
With our cups full of fresh coffee, I head back to the office.
Samuel looks at me as I enter. The way his eyes light up when he sees me always makes my pulse quicken. I set his mug down on the desk in front of him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. But what’s supposed to be a simple peck quickly turns into something more, his hand sliding up my thigh, warm and wanting.
“Careful,” he speaks against my lips. “You might make me forget about work entirely. Especially when you’re dressed like that.” His eyes move up and down my body, reminding me that I’m in nothing but a T-shirt and panties.
I smirk as his hand moves higher. “You should take the day off. Stay home with me. We can have a fun evening in.”
He leans back slightly, his dark eyes locking onto mine, a dangerous glint flashing in them. “What I’ve got in mind can’t wait until tonight.”
A laugh erupts from my throat but quickly turns into a squeal when he grips my waist, pulling me down onto his lap in one fluid motion. My legs straddle him instinctively, and the feel of his hard cock through his jeans sets every nerve in my body on fire. My pussy clenches, and I pull in a sharp, quick breath.
“You’re trouble.”
He grins, his hands sliding to my hips. “You like trouble,” he says as he pulls my shirt up and over my head.
My heart stutters, but the heat in his gaze leaves no room for hesitation. My shirt drops to the floor, my skin tingling under the weight of his stare.
His hands slide up my sides, brushing against the curve of my breasts. “Kiss me.”
I lean in, capturing his mouth with mine. The kiss is hot, hungry, and I lose myself in it, my hands tangling in his hair as his grip on my waist tightens. His tongue slides against mine, and I let a soft moan escape me.
He pulls back slightly, his lips brushing against my ear. “You’re so damn beautiful, Erin,” he whispers. “And you’re all mine.”
His words make me so hot I can hardly think straight. I press into him harder and he grips my hips, grinding me against him in just the way I want. His hands slide up, cupping my breasts and teasing my nipples.
I grind against him, the hardness pushing through the thin fabric of my panties. I’m soaked, and all I want is for him to take out that gorgeous cock of his and slide it into my hot pussy.
“You like that?” His lips trail down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin.
“God, yes.”
One of his hands leaves my waist, sliding between us. His fingers dip below the waistband of my panties, finding my slick heat and I gasp. My head falls back as he strokes me, slowly at first, then faster, his thumb circling in a way that has my breath coming in ragged gasps.
He slips a finger inside, curling it up and hitting my G-spot. I moan, bucking into his touch.
“Let go for me,” he says.
I do as he asks, my body tensing as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak before shattering. My cry fills the room, my hands clutching at his shoulders as the waves crash over me.
“That’s my girl.” He brushes his lips against mine in a soft, lingering kiss.
I’m breathless, my body still trembling, and as he leans back in the chair, his hands sliding lazily up and down my thighs, I can’t help but think that taking the day off might not have been such a bad idea.
