Morgan watched the girl walk away. The confused look on her face was cute as fuck. I slid into the booth and set my drink down. When Morgan turned and looked at me, her hand came up to her mouth. It had finally dawned on her.
“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to sit down?”
Dropping her hand, she quickly slid in. “You own this place?”
“I’m a partner in it.”
“So you own it. Does Tucker know?”
“He knows. I’m more of a silent partner. A good friend of mine from college approached me about investing in the club since I lived in the building. He wanted to make it different from the other clubs in town.”
“How is the club different?” she asked, taking a sip of her drink.
“He wanted to put a sex club in the back.”
She choked on her drink. “What?”
Laughing, I added. “I wasn’t into that scene, so I passed. Instead, he came up with the whole underground secret dance club for the wealthy. That was an idea I could get on board with.”
The waitress brought over a bucket of ice and the champagne. I took the bottle and said, “I’ll open it, thank you.”
I watched Morgan as she took everything in while I filled her glass. She slowly sipped on it while her eyes moved around the club. The vibe was exactly what we needed. You could practically feel the sexual tension in the air.
“Want to dance?” I asked.
Chewing on her lip, she finally smiled and said, “Yes! I want to dance.”
We slid out of the booth and headed to the dance floor. I had no idea what song was playing, but it was a fast beat. Morgan, or course, was an amazing dancer. I had seen her a time or two at Sedotto the few nights she went out with our little group, which wasn’t often. I had the feeling Morgan hardly hung out with us because didn’t like feeling like Nash’s little sister—along for the ride.
After two fast songs, things finally slowed down.
“I’m dying of thirst,” Morgan called out.
We headed back to the table, and I refilled her champagne while she ordered another cranberry and vodka. When that arrived, I informed the waitress we wouldn’t be needing her for a while, hoping Morgan and I could have some privacy. The waitress slid the two side curtains almost closed, only leaving a small gap open so we could see out.
Morgan downed both drinks and turned to face m
e. “So tell me why you really brought me here, Blake.”
I smirked. “It’s the one place I know we won’t run into any of our friends.”
Her brows lifted. “Why does that matter?”
Morgan’s eyes were getting glassy, and I knew the alcohol was catching up. I had no idea how much she’d had over at Butch’s Place.
“It matters a lot. But I need to know how much you’ve had to drink tonight, Morgan.”
With a roll of her eyes, she looked away.
“Morgan, Nash is like a brother to me, and I would never do anything to hurt him or risk my friendships with either of you.”
She nodded, still not looking at me.
“But. . . .”
Focusing her attention back on me, she repeated me. “But?”
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that morning I showed up to take you to breakfast. Hell, if you only knew the half of it, Morgan. You’re fucking crazy if you think I don’t want you.”