Chapter Two

Brooke

The Empire nightclub is on the fortieth floor of the Grandeur Hotel. While I haven’t been to many clubs, I know this has to be one of the most upscale ones around.

The music is loud, but I can tell the sound mixing is top-notch because rather than brutally stabbing into your eardrums, it feels somewhat more like a caress. The air isn’t cloying with stale sweat and alcohol as I imagined was the case for all nightclubs. I’m thinking there must be great ventilation. This is no ordinary nightclub. Even the people look expensive, and I’m glad I let Stella style me tonight.

“They always have a different celebrity DJ on most nights, and tonight, it’s Zedd.” The name sounds familiar.

“I’ve managed to get us VIP lounge access, which means free drinks, and if we get lucky, we might get to hang out with Zedd,” Stella says as we reach the bar.

I’m amazed by that. I’m still surprised she managed to get us into the club, never mind the VIP section.

“How did you manage that?”

“Remember the model I worked on two weeks ago, Natalia?” Stella asks.

“The one that canceled twice?”

“Yes. Well, she was sweet and we got talking. Turns out she knows someone who knows the owner and she said to let her know when I wanted to go, and she would arrange it.”

We sat on the plush cushioned barstools and the bartender took our drink orders, scanning the barcode on Stella’s phone.

I take another look around, enjoying the music as I feel the tension leaching out from my shoulders. Now if all nightclubs looked and felt like this, I wouldn’t have any issues going more often. Although it would take being able to afford this kind of luxury.

Perhaps start by not drowning in three hundred thousand dollars of debt for instance.

Our shots arrive just as I push the unwelcome thought out of my mind.

“Here’s to career successes, nights out, and living the best years of our lives in the best city there is,” Stella says. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” I raise my glass to hers and down it, savoring the rich and tangy aftertaste.

“What’s this?” I ask, licking salt off the rim of my glass.

“Not sure, ‘something Starter’,” she replies. “It’s supposed to be a house special. Nice, isn’t it?” I nod. She motions to the bartender for another round. My usual limit is two drinks but by the time Stella pulls me toward the dance floor, we’ve had three rounds and I’m working up a nice buzz.

I feel carefree and more alive than I’ve felt all week. No idiot brother to ruin my life, just great music and my best friend by my side. I lift my arms and let my body sway to the beat .

Stella and I had only been on the dance floor for what seemed like minutes when suddenly the hairs at my nape rise and I get the uncanny feeling that I’m being watched. Which is weird since there must be at least fifty people in the club.

Still dancing, I look around until my gaze falls on a tall man standing by the bar across the room, holding a glass of amber-colored liquid. And staring right at me.

His thick, midnight-dark hair falls in careless waves over one side of his temple as if he’d been running a hand through it. His sculpted jaw is dark with stubble. I can’t see the color of his eyes from where I stand, but they burn in their intensity. He tilts his head backward to take a sip of his drink and I’m treated to the strong column of his throat and his bobbing Adam’s apple.

Lust slams into me. I turn back quickly, but I can’t shake that image from my mind. How can something as simple as a man swallowing be so erotic?

I am even more aware of his eyes all over my back, but I force myself not to look at him. Goosebumps race across my arms. What the hell was in those shots? Stella is still swaying to the music, occasionally looking at her phone, and completely oblivious to the vortex of lust I’m being sucked into.

“Hell, yass!” Stella suddenly grabs my arm. “Natalia is in the VIP lounge. Let’s go. She could get us into Zedd’s booth.”

Leave? Now? Instinctively I turn back to the stranger. If anything, the stare has grown hotter. He looks at me as if he owns me. I’ve never been looked at like that before.

“Um, you go ahead.” I look at Stella. “I’m going to dance for a little while longer.” I glance behind me again because I can’t help it.

“Who are you looking at?” Stella looks over my shoulder and sees him .

“Oh wow! Brooke?”

“What?” I say.

“Nothing.” She smiles. “He’s hot.” She looks back at him again. “And he’s checking you out.”

“He is?” I ask like I don’t know. He’s more than checking me out. He’s setting me ablaze .

“Duh! Of course. Go say hello.” She looks again. “Scratch that, he’s coming. See ya.” She kisses my cheek. “I’ll be up there trying to get into Zedd’s booth if they’ll let me.”

I watch Stella leave and when I look back, the man is striding toward me. I want to run, but I’m rooted to the spot. He’s even more attractive up close.

Tall, well over six feet, I reckon. Broad shoulders under the soft material of his thin black sweater. His hooded eyes are a deep green, framed by long sooty lashes. He’s beautiful.

“Hi,” he says. The music disappears and the rough timbre of his voice is all I hear now. He leans close to my ears. “I’m Xavier.”

“Brooke,” I say, moistening my parched lips. “Brooke Lewis.” Did I just give him my last name as well? Why stop there? I mentally kick myself. Give him your SSN too, why don’t you. I should have listened to Stella and gone out more. Can he tell how nervous I am?

“Do you want to dance, Brooke Lewis?”

Out of the corner of my eyes, I catch Stella waving down at me from Zedd’s booth with two thumbs up. She managed to get in, then I figured. That seems to be all the encouragement I need. The music gets even louder with more Zedd fans piling onto the dance floor.

“Sure. ”

Xavier smiles, and I notice the single dimple on his right cheek that somehow makes him less intimidating. I smile back and relax a little.

“Your friend approves, I see.” He motions to Stella, who is fangirling at Zedd’s booth.

I roll my eyes. “Stella would approve of me breathing on anything as long as it’s a man.”

I realize how that sounds and try to explain. “Not that she wouldn’t approve if I liked women. I don’t, though. Like women, that is. What I meant… well, I don’t get out much.” Real smooth, Brooke . I try again. “Don’t get me wrong, I do like a night out, but—actually, I don’t, the nightclub isn’t usually my scene. Although this one isn’t so bad. This is great, to be honest. But I don’t have time—” I stop my rambling.

He’s still watching me with that smile on his face. “How come you don’t have time?” he asks as if I’ve been making complete sense. He stands a little closer and starts to move in a sexy, rhythmic sway that I automatically mirror. I find myself relaxing even more.

“I teach at an elementary school in Brownsville. It’s called Regal. I also work with the arts and music club. It can be time-consuming.”

“So, arts and music,” he says, “something we have in common.”

“Do you teach as well?” I ask.

“No, I work in real estate,” he replies, “but music is one of my great passions—and weapons.”

“What do you mean ‘weapons’?”

“I mean I can get your ears to bleed by singing.”

I throw my head back and laugh. Xavier seems caught off guard for a moment and then the smoldering look returns to his eyes. Gone is the playful guy I’d been dancing with. Up close, I see the exact moment his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare.

My laughter dies as a frisson of awareness sweeps my body. My nipples harden. Attraction is too tame a word to describe this. Just at the point I’m thinking of putting some distance between us so I can think straight, Xavier pulls me closer, resting his palm on the small of my back as if to keep me from moving away. I feel the warmth of his solid chest and the scent of his skin fills my nostrils. It’s a heady combination of expensive cologne and clean male. I love it.

The music slows and we’re not dancing so much as moving together now, and every inch of me is aware of how close he is. My breasts feel unbearably heavy and achy, so I put my arms around his neck, so they’re pushed against his hard chest. I’m unable to suppress a tiny moan at the relief and pleasure that washes through me from that full-body contact. Xavier sucks in a breath and lowers the hand at my waist to cup my derriere. He pulls my lower body closer, and I feel his bulge against my belly. He’s hard as steel.

My arousal spikes even higher and I grind against him. I’m dimly aware that we might be giving onlookers an eyeful, but I’m too far gone to care. His other hand slips into the hair at my nape, using the hold to tilt my head up as his mouth descends on mine in a hard kiss. His tongue slips in to tease in short licks, which has me craving more and straining to get even closer. The kiss turns decadent and goes on until my breathing becomes erratic, my heart pounding fast.

Xavier breaks the kiss, breathing just as hard, his pupils dark pools of lust.

I’ve never been this turned on by a man. And he hasn’t even touched me .

I realize I want his hands on me more than I want my next breath. He takes my mouth in another hard kiss, his teeth gently dragging my lower lip in a pull I feel all the way to my clit. His mouth moves to tease the sensitive spot just under my earlobe.

“Let’s get out of here.”

He doesn’t wait for me to respond but grabs my hand and leads me away from the dance floor and past the VIP section. I follow him to a dimly lit hall and then Xavier pushes a door open and pulls me inside what looks like a private lounge. The sounds from the club are muted as the door shuts behind me.

I barely have time to take in my surroundings when he pins me against the heavy door and crushes his mouth to mine in a kiss so savagely intense I can barely catch my breath. He kisses me like he’s starving for the taste of my mouth, the feel of my tongue. As if he never wants to stop. I melt in surrender, so aroused I’m not sure how long my legs will hold me up.

He slides hands down my thighs and back up, taking the hem of my dress up to my waist, then returns them to knead my ass. I love the feel of his hands on me. My own hands slide under his shirt to feel his hard muscles, and when they twitch as I run my hands over them, I know I’m having the same effect on him as he’s having on me.

He suddenly raises a hand to his back, grabs a fistful of his shirt, and pulls it off. Holy shit, he’s so beautiful . His ripped torso is a work of art. I don’t have time to admire the display of muscles as he’s turned me around. My cheek is pressed against the warm oak door as he unzips my dress and pulls it over my head. He moves my hair to press kisses on my neck.

“Okay?” He breathes into my ear, running his hands over my naked back, the curve of my ass, and back up and around to cup my achy breasts. I can’t speak, so I nod my head yes. He turns me around, and his eyes feast on me.

His heavy-lidded stare rakes me from top to toe, taking in my tousled ash-blonde hair, rose-tipped breasts, and tiny black silk underwear. The lust I see in his eyes has me pressing my thighs together. He cups one full breast, pinching the tightly furled nipple, and I jerk, moaning. “You’re a fucking goddess Brooke Lewis.”

Swallowing my moans in a kiss, he continues to fondle my breasts while his other hand strokes down my flat, quivering belly.

He’s still kissing me when he reaches between my legs and feels me through my damp panties. My breath hitches as he moves the crotch aside and strokes my slick folds, and my back arches off the door when he presses his thumb against my clit. When he slides a long finger into me and slowly starts to fuck me, I feel my legs begin to shake. I need to come. Badly.

“Please.” I beg hoarsely, my nails digging into the unyielding muscles of his broad shoulders.

“Please, what, Brooke Lewis?” He looks deep into my eyes as he continues to stroke me at that maddeningly slow pace. I feel heat suffuse my cheeks at his boldness, knowing he can feel how wet I am all over my thighs. I’ve never wanted a man this much. I’m completely mindless with desire.

I look away, fumbling for his slacks with shaky fingers. I’ve managed to undo the single button when he pulls down his zipper then grasps my hand, pushing it through his now open fly to cup him. My hand instinctively curls around his length. He’s thick and hot. My core clenches hard.

“Is this what you want?” he asks.

I moan, nodding and biting my lip.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he croons.

And then I can’t say anymore because I’m panting as his finger picks up its rhythm, moving faster against the front of my clenching walls while his thumb presses harder against my clit.

I’m wound so tight it doesn’t take long before I climax with a choked scream. My vision blurs and I’m wracked with contractions as I jerk repeatedly against his hand.

“Fucking magnificent,” he praises.

When my orgasm subsides and my vision clears, I find my legs are wrapped around Xavier’s waist and his thick length is stroking back and forth over my sensitive folds.

“Ready?” He looks deep into my eyes and I nod yes.

“Are you on birth control?” Again, I nod lazily. He takes my mouth in a hard kiss, his tongue dueling with mine as he continues to move against me. The pleasure builds again and soon I’m squirming, needing to be filled. Thankfully he doesn’t make me beg; it seems his own control is only hanging by a thread. He aligns himself at my entrance, kisses my neck, and drives home with a single thrust.

I scream.

“Christ, you’re tight,” he groans. Without missing a beat, he withdraws and slams into me again. And again. I feel shock, intense pleasure, and just a bite of pain as I’m stretched too full. He’s so much bigger than my ex, than any of my dildos, and deeper, but I’m so wet that he glides easily.

He hitches my legs higher, changing the angle, his thrusts hitting a spot in me that makes my eyes roll to the back of my head. I can’t believe the sounds coming out of my mouth, but I can’t for the life of me stop making them.

Xavier grunts as he starts to fuck me harder. Pleasure ripples from my core, spreading up my spine and down my toes and I know another orgasm is fast approaching. He puts his face against my neck and sucks on the sensitive skin there, biting down on a particularly deep stroke. I come hard, thrashing and crying out, my core rippling.

“Fuck!” he growls as his thrusts quicken. I feel him grow even harder and thicker, which intensifies my orgasm.

“Brooke,” he groans brokenly as he climaxes, spilling into me.

I wake up slowly, my head pillowed on a warm chest gently rising and falling, and muscular arms around me, one hand in my hair and the other on my… naked ass. The events of last night rush at me like a tidal wave and my eyes fly open. I slept with a nameless stranger—no, his name is Xavier.

I look up and take in his features, relaxed in repose. His long dark lashes fan over his cheekbones, and the stubble over his chiseled jaw is thicker now. His lips are slightly open, and I get a sudden urge to reacquaint myself with the taste of his mouth.

I tear my eyes away and they land on his torso. Which is when I notice the scratch marks on his thick shoulders and biceps. My face heats as I remember how unhinged I was. Begging, screaming, scratching… Jesus, what got into me? Suddenly, I rear back to disentangle myself—and fall off the narrow couch and onto the plush carpet with a thud.

“Ow!” I yelp. I stay still on the floor for a few seconds to make sure I don’t wake him.

He doesn’t stir.

I get up quietly, finding my dress. As I shimmy into the rumpled dress, I feel a delicious ache deep in my core. My eyes are instinctively drawn back to Xavier’s naked form. His strong, muscled legs and bare feet. His semi-hard cock lying across his lower abdomen.

And that is when it hits me. He didn’t use a condom.

I let a man I hardly know fuck me without protection. More than once.

What on earth is wrong with me? At least I’m on the pill, thank God.

First, I need to get out of here. Not bothering to find my panties, I grab my shoes and scoop up my purse on the floor on the way to the door. I yank the door open with more force than necessary in order to dispel the unbidden images of the last time I was against the door. It closes softly behind me. Thankfully there are EXIT signs leading from the hallway directly to the elevators. I fish out my phone from my purse, glancing around self-consciously.

There are several text messages from Stella.

Stella:

Xavier freaking Bennett!!!

Stella:

The billionaire who owns the club, the hotel, heck the entire building we’re in!

Stella:

Major playboy.

Stella:

The man you’re with is Xavier Bennett. Biggest manwhore in all of New York City. Or so Natalia says .

Stella:

Run for your life!

Or maybe don’t. I kind of want to see where this is going. Actually, I think I know *wink*

Stella :

…And now you’re leaving with him!?

Stella:

Have fun—and be safe.

Text me, okay? Love ya x.

I’m in the elevator putting on my shoes while trying to wrap my head around Stella’s messages. Xavier owns the club.

I just had the wildest sex of my entire life with a notorious playboy.

Wow. No wonder he was so good at it. I’m just another name on his long list of girls he’s slept with.

“ I work in real estate. ” There I was pouring out my life’s history while he was just giving up the token information required to get into my pants. I want to kick myself in the butt.

Another text from Stella pops up on my phone.

Stella:

Please text back if you’re alive. I’m worried about you.

Me:

I’m fine. omw home now.

Stella:

Yay! Can’t wait for you to get here!

I let out a rueful chuckle. I bet you can’t.