Valentines in the club, p.1
Valentine's in the Club, page 1
Valentines in the Club
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Valentine’s in the Club © 2013 Megan Slayer
Editor: Katriena Knights
Cover Art: Marteeka Karland
Books are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving eBooks is a copyright infringement.
“Men are pigs and Valentine’s Day sucks.” Morgan yanked the door open to Club56. “Happy Valentine’s day to me.”
Of all the times to come to work on her off day. Lacey swore the best guys hung out at X. Free drinks and sexy men on the dance floor. Bullshit. Morgan knew who frequented the club. Assholes who didn’t always pay their tab, grabby-handed men who wanted a quick fuck, and guys already hooked up with dates.
“Morgan, you’re thinking way too hard.” Lacey grinned and flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Let’s have fun.”
Fun. Morgan groaned. “You have fun. I’m out of here.” She loved her best friend, but damn. They were polar opposites. Lacey embodied beach beauty. Not Morgan. Too much booty and too many curves. She shook her head. Fuck it.
She knew that voice. Trip. What a time to run into her boss. She didn’t bother to turn around. “Hey, Trip.”
“You’re here on your day off.” Trip touched her shoulder, then rested one hand on the bar beside her. His blue eyes sparkled and the scruff on his cheeks shone in the glittering lights. “You never come here when you’re not working. Might give me the idea you like being here.”
His gravelly voice, spoken right in her ear, sent shivers down her spine. Well, shit. Talk about walking sex. Muscles where a guy should be chiseled and with a smile to melt the iciest heart. He’d been the reason she stuck around. That and she loved looking at his ass.
“I don’t like being here. But Lacey wanted to dance. I trust the bouncers here more than I do over at the Graphite Club.” She kept her gaze on the dancers. If she looked at Trip, she’d lose her reputation for being an ice queen.
“Lacey? Carmona? She can hold her own. She’s probably already broken the hearts of half the men out there.” Trip pointed to Lacey, who was grinding her ass against a dark-haired man. “Want to dance?”
“No.” Who was she kidding? She wanted to dance, and with Trip, but fuck. The last time she’d let go and offered her heart, she’d ended up paying the damn price.
“You’ll do anything to push people away, won’t you?” Trip rose to his full height, then grabbed her hand. “Come on.”
“Where the hell do you think we’re going?” Morgan braced her feet. “I am not going anywhere with you.”
“You’re pissed and hurting.” His blue eyes blazed, and his warm breath feathered on her cheeks. She noticed the freckles sprinkled on his nose. Since when had he sprouted freckles? And why was she looking?
“Lacey said you were upset, but I never expected you to be this upset.” Trip wrapped an arm around her. He tugged her across the room, through the throng of sweaty bodies to his office. What did he want? To stretch her across his desk for a quickie? Hot sex against the wall while the dancers partied, oblivious, on the other side? Her pussy quivered, and she pressed her knees together.
Trip McDivott served as the principal player in all her naughty fantasies. Now he wanted her alone in his office. If she wasn’t mistaken, she could’ve sworn she heard Lacey giggle over the thundering dance music. The cooler air of his office slapped her back to reality. This was her boss. She shouldn’t imagine him wanting her for anything other than as an employee.
Fucking cruel Valentine’s Day strikes again.
“Trip, let go of me. I’m here for fun, not so we can have a staff meeting.” She nudged him away from her, only to have him hold her tighter. “Trip, don’t make me bust your balls.”
He shut the door with one hand, then turned on her. “We need to talk.”
Trip groaned and let go of her. He thrust his fingers into his hair and paced to work off the frustration. She’d drive him to drink. Morgan Price hardly understood her effect on men. Lush curves in all the right places, breasts to make a man’s mouth water, and that smile. Always a twinkle in her dark eyes. He imagined running his fingers over her ebony skin until she begged him to spread her open on his desk.
Speaking of his desk, what a mess. Trip spread his arm out over the clutter on his desk and shoved. Papers flew in the air, the telephone thunked on the carpet, and the lamp tipped, shining yellow light up at him.
Her eyes widened and she jumped back. “Trip. What the hell are you thinking?”
Her nipples pebbled under the flimsy fabric of her halter top, and her breaths accentuated her problem. She licked her lips again, giving them a slick sheen. God, he wanted to taste her.
“I said we need to talk.” He rested his hands on the now-empty desk top. “I need a partner.”
“This is sexual harassment or something.” She rolled her eyes and cocked her hip. Her gigantic, gold, hoop earrings glinted in the lamp light. “Seriously, what are you thinking?”
She wanted to know? Fine. Trip stalked around the table, then pinned her between his body and the wall. “I’m thinking I can’t stand seeing you sashay around my dance club in those tight little shorts and tank tops and not want to bend you over my knee.”
Morgan flattened her palms on his chest, but didn’t shove him away. Her lips opened and closed like she wanted to say something, but no sound came out.
“Sue me or whatever, but I want you.” He situated his knee between her thighs. Morgan slipped down onto his leg and rubbed. Tiny moans erupted from her throat. Just as he’d suspected—she wanted him as much as he needed her.
“We can’t, Trip,” she whispered. “I work for you. We’re friends, and this will go to hell if we screw around.”
“Don’t care.” Rational thought left his mind. No matter the cost, he needed her. Now. Trip buried his face against her neck and breathed in the soft, sandalwood scent of her perfume. “Fuck.”
Morgan shivered beneath him and tipped her head back.
Perfect invitation. “I want you,” he mumbled against her skin. Each taste, each touch made him realize he couldn’t turn back.
“Trip.” She threaded her arms around him. “We can’t do this.”
His ire rose. “Morgan, I mean it.” He caged her face in his hands and rested his forehead on hers. “I dream about you. Crave you. I’ve listened to you and know you better than you think. This feels crazy to you, doesn’t it? Giving up control and giving me a chance? I’m not just some guy.”
“Prove it.” She situated her hand between their bodies to caress his cock through his jeans. The button popped and she unzipped him, freeing him from the denim.
He groaned and fastened his lips to hers. She intoxicated him. The heat from her touch and the taste of her kiss fuzzed his thoughts.
Without breaking the connection, Trip hiked her skirt past her hips an
“Trip,” she groaned. She wrapped her leg around his hip and whimpered. “More.”
“Yeah.” He hoisted her into his arms, then pinned her between his body and the wall. She pressed her breasts to his chest and rubbed her pussy on his cock. The lubrication between them spurred him on.
“So wet.” Trip nipped her skin, kissing her lips, cheeks, chin, then burying his face against her neck again. “I need to be inside you.”
“So do it.” Morgan rocked her hips. His cock slid over her cunt lips.
“Fuck.” Trip carried her to his desk. “I need to taste you.” He settled in his chair and opened her to his appraisal. The soft mocha of her nether lips glittered with her juices. “Damn.” He dragged his tongue over the soft silk of her pussy. “So good.” Her taste intoxicated him.
“Trip.” Morgan reached for him and threaded her fingers into his hair. “Oh.”
He grinned against her labia. God, he loved to hear her pleased. He rubbed his fingers over the waxed softness above her pussy—like silk. Sweat glistened on her lower belly, making her skin shine like rich mahogany. He inserted one finger into her sweet channel, thrilled when she groaned and rocked on his hand. He added another finger, smearing her juices over her labia and his lips. Her tiny moans filled the air. Yeah, he loved this. Loved her.
With his fingers in her cunt, he buried his face in her nether lips, licking and tasting her. Memorizing her. He nipped her inner thigh, then turned his attention to her clit, rolling the tiny bundle of nerves between his teeth. He grinned when she cried out and her grip on his hair tightened.
Her nails bit into his scalp. “Trip. More.” Her boots clicked on the drawer handles of his desk as she wriggled for purchase on his desktop.
“Yes, babe.” He sucked on her clit and pumped his fingers in her channel.
“Fuck.” She writhed under his touch. “Close.” Her chest heaved, and her hips bucked off the table.
Close? He hummed against her clit, then pulled his fingers out of her sweet heat. She wasn’t allowed to be so close without him. He wrapped his hand around his cock, coating himself in her juices. The touch of his fingers on his body kicked his need up another notch. Damn, he was close, too.
She rose up on her elbows and frowned at him. “What?” Her dark brows knotted. “You stopped.”
“Come here, babe.” Trip grasped her hips, easing her down from the desk and onto his lap.
Morgan shivered and guided his cock into her pussy. She enveloped him inch by inch, and her grip on him nearly drove him mad. He groaned and held onto her waist.
Morgan panted. Her hair fell around her shoulders in tangled curls, and her cheeks tinged with pink. She tipped her head back and balanced on her toes, rolling her hips. The move sent him deeper into her.
“God.” Trip licked his lips and scooted forward on his chair. He needed the leverage to give her the time of her life. She deserved a man to love her, and he wanted to be that man. He pistoned his hips, filling her with his cock. He wouldn’t last. Not this time. Next time he’d go slow. Next time he’d be gentle.
“Now. Trip. Fuck me.” Morgan met him thrust for thrust. Her moans drowned out the music on the other side of the wall.
“Yes, ma’am.” Trip took over the session and grasped her ass. Her chest bounced with each thrust, and her head lolled on her shoulders. Her legs trembled. Oh, yeah. The orgasm building in his belly surged through his body. Love and devotion to Morgan bubbled in his heart.
“Mine, Morgan.” Trip held her tight to his groin and gave in to the climax. His seed filled her womb, and he growled. “Mine.”
“Trip.” His name came out on a sigh, and she slumped against his chest. She gasped for breath in his arms and didn’t speak for a long time.
Trip cuddled her and kissed the top of his head. If someone asked him to describe a perfect moment, he’d have described having her right there in his embrace. The world faded away, and nothing mattered but her.
Morgan disengaged from him, but instead of smiling, she shook her head. “We shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered. “Trip. We made a mistake.”
Hell’s bells. Talk about ruining a perfect moment. Jesus. Trip scrubbed one hand over his face. Part of him wanted to be patient with her. Yeah, they’d taken things to the next level and chanced the friendship, but it was better. They were better as a team. Sex served as the icing on the cake...didn’t it?
“That shouldn’t have happened.” She crawled off his lap and righted her dress. “You finished inside me. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll remember for next time.” Being with her meant thinking went out the window. Yes, he should’ve used a rubber, but things had gone too damn fast.
“Next time? There won’t a next time.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “This was such a damn mistake.”
Now she’d pissed him off. Denying they had chemistry and a fucking good time...damn it. “You don’t want to give me a chance? Fine. Just look at this before you fly off the handle and run out of here.” Trip reached behind her and flipped a switch, then spread his arms. “Look. It’s what you’ve always wanted.” The view switched from a blank wall to a window looking out over the club. Light from the dance floor sparkled in his office.
“They can see us. They saw us!” Morgan swatted him away and stomped to the door. Her skirt swirled around her hips.“Rat bastard.”
“It’s one-way glass, Morgan. We see them, they see a mirror.”
“Why?” she snapped, then shook her head. “Look, I have to go.” Damn it. He’d listened to her. He did know her. But he wasn’t just any guy. He was her freaking boss.
“You said you wanted to do something crazy. To get out of your safe world and have fun.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Did being here with me improve your Valentine’s Day? I know I forgot the wine and roses, but come on. Wasn’t it good?”
Was he for real? The sex was to make Valentine’s Day nice? Great. As far as she knew, the glass hadn’t switched until after they’d fucked, but still. She wanted to live a little on her terms, not his. She leveled her shoulders. “You made it memorable, all right. Thanks.” She grabbed her purse, then finger-combed her hair back into place. “Don’t call me.”
Morgan waved her finger at him. “Don’t.” She turned on her heel and bolted from his office. Her heart hammered, and frustration sizzled in her brain. She’d trusted him, even liked him. She navigated her way through the dancers and scanned the happy faces for her friend.
Relief swirled in her belly when she finally spotted Lacey grinding on a towering man with black hair spilling over his shoulders.
“There you are,” Morgan shouted in Lacey’s ear.
“You look like you got lucky for Valentine’s Day!” Lacey pointed to the strap of Morgan’s halter top. “Next time put it back straight.”
Morgan glanced down at the strap. Fuck. She’d twisted it when she fixed her clothes. “I want to go home.”
Lacey stopped dancing and frowned. Her blonde brows knitted. She placed her hand on her partner’s chest. “Save me a dance.”
The man wrapped his arm around Lacey and placed a rough kiss on her lips, then let her go. The start of a smile twitched on his lips.
Lacey wobbled on her stilettos, but walked away from the muscled hunk. “Bathroom.” She tugged Morgan through the dancers to the bathroom. “Here.” She slapped an Out of Order sign on the door, then closed the door and clicked the lock. “You left him, didn’t you?”
“What if he changed his mind?” Morgan stood before the mirror and righted her strap. She pressed her lips together to fix her lipstick, then turned back to Lacey. “It wasn’t what we expected.”
“Bullshit.” Lacey cocked her hip and folded her arms. “Trip doesn’t put himself out there much. I know. He’s quiet and shy u
“And you know this how?” Morgan snapped. A twinge of jealousy hit her hard. Trust Lacey to sample the goods first.
“He’s my brother.” Lacey’s mouth formed a tight line.
“Brother?” Morgan swayed on her feet.
“You don’t think I’d set up my best friend with a total stranger, do you? Come on.” Lacey sighed. “Did you ever wonder why I could be here and every bouncer gives me a wide berth? It’s not because of my smiling face or my warm personality. It’s because my big brother owns the joint. The bouncers know he’ll rearrange more than just their faces if they fuck with me.”
“You never said anything.”
“You never asked.” Lacey pressed the buttons on her phone. “So you and my brother”—she waggled her head—“wango-tangoed. He’s really into you. But hey, I get it. He’s not your type. Fine. Just tell him that yourself.”
“Lace, he’s my boss. I shouldn’t have wango-tangoed, as you so eloquently put it, with him at all. It was stupid, even if I did like it.”
“And you’re really going to work here for the rest of your life?”
A knock on the door echoed in the room. Lacey shoved a loose hank of hair off her face, then grinned. “That’s my cue to leave.” She flipped the lock, then opened the door. “Hi, Trip.”
Trip ducked into the women’s restroom. He clenched and unclenched his left hand. He gripped the rose in his other hand. Thorns bit into his skin. Damn nervous energy. Morgan was the one woman to knock his whole world off-kilter, and she’d run from him. Fucking hell. Maybe having his sister to mediate wasn’t a bad idea, but then again, some of his best ideas blew up in his face.
Lacey grinned, then gave him a soft punch on the arm. “Be gentle with her, even if she should have her butt kicked.”
by Slayer, Megan have rating 4 out of 5 / Based on32 votes