Page 44 of After Hours

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“What? No.” She laughs. “Sure, he’s hot, but he’s a bit too serious for me.” She shakes her head, and I deflate in relief. “No!” she gasps. “You like him?”

I shake my head vigorously. “No… I… it seemed like you di—”

“Cut the bull, Lauren. Shit, you really like him. He’s a bit of a dick to you, though,” she contemplates, leading us inside. The music thumps, and I hook my arm through hers, searching frantically for the man in question.

“He’s oddly decent one minute, then this moody twat the next.” I sigh, shrugging, not wanting to admit I do, in fact, have very confusing feelings for our boss. I refuse to admit our kiss, too. Amberley will hyperventilate. How would she feel if she knew he’d eaten dinner at mine and that he’d confessed his intention to act on our attraction?

“If he does appear and starts giving you a hard time, we can leave, okay?”

I nod and join her at the bar, order our drinks and pay. “It’s packed in here,” I shout as a group of boisterous men stagger to the bar, chortling loudly.

“I know. Let’s hit the dance floor.” Amberley begins shimming her way to the floor, and I follow. Kendrick Lamar is pumping through the club, and people grind and sway to the base. I find my rhythm quickly and mouth the words to my friend as she sips her drink and rocks to the beat. I’m verging on drunk, and the music is riding on my good mood and filling me with confidence.

A guy comes up and shouts over the music. “I’m Eddy.”

“Lauren, and this is my friend Amberley.” Eddy smiles at Amberley and leans back in to talk to me. We noticed them as we headed to the bar not long ago.

“Do you want to join me and my mates? We’re just over there?” He uses his bottle to point in the direction of a group of men. I flick a look at Amberley, and she gives a slight nod. She’s out to get laid. I roll my lips, dispelling a smirk.

“Okay, sure.” Amberley wiggles her brows, and I hook my arm with hers, following Eddy across the floor.

“This is Paul and Ian,” he introduces us.

“Lauren.” I smile.

“Amberley.” My friend hops up onto a stool as Eddy pulls me one out.

I smile at him and step up as a pair of large hands clasp my hips roughly and pluck me off. I’m deposited firmly on the floor, a wall of heat enveloping my back as a hand slides around to splay on my lower stomach. “Lauren.” Cain’s tone is a warning. I blink at my friend in shock, wide-eyed, as Cain’s breath skims my neck. “Join me in VIP.” It’s not a question. Amberley’s face is a picture. She gawps at our boss.

“I’m good here, thank you,” I squeak, stepping forward as butterflies erupt in my stomach, but his hold tightens, and I’m pulled flush to his front, my bottom landing just short of his groin. He grunts and grips the material at my navel.

“I disagree,” he snaps.

“She said she’s good here,” Eddy scoffs.

“She’s none of your business,” Cain spits. Twisting me behind his frame, he slides his hands into his trousers, the picture of calm, despite his tone being knife-sharp. His casual indifference to the three men glaring at him makes me shiver. I peep at Amberley, and she is grinning like a maniac. She’s soaking this up like an addict taking a hit on their latest fix. Even with his hands tucked away, clearly putting him at a disadvantage to these other men, I know Cain would flatten them without much effort.

“VIP sounds great,” I cut in, trying to diffuse the situation. “Amberley?” I ask, checking she is okay with how this night is quickly unfolding. A small girlish part of me can’t wait to rush up to VIP with him.

“Sure. Night, guys,” she chirps, and Cain steps aside to let Amberley past. His hands remain briefly in his trousers, and he looks hot as sin in his open-neck shirt and jeans.

“Okay, so that was hot,” Amberly whisper-shouts in my ear. “What haven’t you been telling me?” she accuses, and I bite my lip, unsure what to say. It doesn’t matter anyway, because Cain takes my hand and threads our fingers. I gape, shocked by his open display, and her eyes bug. “You better start spilling, Lindel!” she spits quietly.

My small hand flexes, a soft thumb runs back and forth along my pulse, and he presses on the spattering beat, absorbing it into his own hand. I suck in a shallow breath, flicking a look up at him. His lips tilt ever so slightly before he lowers to run his lips across the shell of my ear. “Nervous, pretty girl?”

My lips part, his thumb keeps on rolling across my wrist, and I manage a small swallow. What the hell is happening right now? Cain nods me on, and I turn slowly and blink up at Amberley, smirking at me from midway up the steps. Cain encourages me up, and once we are above the club, I chew the inside of my cheek to stop from squealing in giddy excitement. I twist into him with the intention of gaining clarification of what this means, but he leans down and renders me speechless, saying, “You look undeniably fuckable. I watched you dance.”

“What?” I blurt. Did he actually just say that out loud?

“You mean pardon?” He raises his brow.

“Yes, pardon?” I splutter.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he informs me with cool certainty.

“Yes,” I agree. “Wait, no.” I give my head a stern shake. “Okay, I did mean yes.” I concede, blushing. “Are you drunk?” I garble nervously. I don’t want to be a drunken mistake.

A mile-wide smile brightens his face. He steps in, crowding my space. His fingertips slide below the shoulder strap of my dress, but his eyes never leave mine, and I feel his heated promise right down to the delicate throb in my pussy. He twangs the material and drops his head to level his lips with my ear. “No, I’m not drunk. I’ve thought of nothing else since your accident. Thought of nothing but how you’ll taste and smell. How you will sound when I sink myself into your cunt.”


Tags: A.R. Thomas Erotic