by Elle Keating
“Hey, handsome,” she said.
Lexi gave him a seductive smile and perused his body with her eyes. He felt like a piece of meat at that moment and he wished for this interaction to end.
“Hello, Lexi,” he said, not even trying to feign enthusiasm over seeing her for the first time since they’d fucked.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she asked. She tossed her brown wavy hair over her shoulder and licked her lips. He knew what she could do with her mouth, the pleasure she could give him with just the stroke of her tongue. She had sunk to her knees and sucked him deep minutes after meeting him. But his cock remained unresponsive this time around and he gestured for her to enter his home.
Lexi walked ahead of him, swinging her ass back and forth. Her skintight jeans looked as though they had been painted on her lean frame and he wondered if she was struggling to breathe properly. Why the hell was he focused on her constricting pants and not the flawless body beneath them? Why wasn’t he envisioning her legs wrapped around him as he pumped into her?
“Definitely not what I expected,” she said, looking around his home.
“Not fancy enough for you?” he asked.
“I find your home… charming,” she said, trailing the tips of her fingers along the back of his couch.
It was pointless to ask why she had come. Her text couldn’t have been clearer. She wanted to be fucked. That thought alone should have made him hard as a rock, but his cock didn’t even twitch.
“Lexi, it’s late.”
“You’re not even going to offer me a drink before I leave?”
He didn’t want to be a dick, but he wasn’t interested in this woman. “One drink, Lexi,” he said, retreating to the kitchen. Jake grabbed a bottle of Merlot from the wine rack beneath the center island. He quickly uncorked it and poured Lexi a glass. When he returned to the living room, Lexi was sitting on his couch and staring at the photo album he had foolishly left open.
“Who’s Morgan Kelley?” she asked, staring at the newspaper clipping. “Family?”
“Not exactly.” Jake swiped the album away and placed the glass of wine in her hands. He walked over to the bookshelf and tucked the album between two books.
“An ex-girlfriend, then?” she asked with her brow raised. She took a sip of her wine as she waited for him to answer.
“Something like that,” he said. Jake raked his fingers through his hair, but his attention was ensnared by the picture frame perched to the left of the books. The photo captured Carina and Morgan in a wheelbarrow full of fall leaves. Luke and Jake had been moments away from dumping the two girls and the leaves into a pile in the backyard when Morgan’s mom had snapped that picture.
“This ex-girlfriend, she’s back in your life?”
Jake had reached his limit. “She has always been in my life. I can’t remember a time or a moment without Morgan in it.” Jake didn’t bother to look at Lexi as he crossed the living room and stood at the front door. “Lexi, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Lexi slammed her glass down on the coffee table, spilling the last remaining sips. She retrieved her purse from the couch and met him at the door. “Were you thinking of her when you were fucking me in New York?”
Jake opened the front door. “Goodnight, Lexi.”
“You’re an asshole,” she spat.
Maybe he was. But he didn’t care. Not about her or having the last word. Jake waited until she cleared the threshold and slammed the door behind her.
Chapter Seven
Morgan
“I hate math!”
Morgan watched Jake struggle with his homework from the McGinnis living room. He slammed his pencil down on the kitchen table and then went to the fridge. He grabbed the milk carton and poured himself a glass.
Morgan looked over at Carina and found her completely engrossed in their latest movie obsession. Back to the Future had officially knocked Goonies off its pedestal. Morgan slipped off the couch and went to the kitchen. Jake was back at it and attempting to take on those God-forsaken word problems once more when she sat next to him at the table.
“It helps if you cross out the things in the problem you don’t need. Sometimes they put numbers in the problem to trick you.” Morgan leaned over and read the problem he appeared to be stuck on. “See, you don’t need to know how many hoagies the deli sold. That’s extra info and you should cross it out,” Morgan said.
“How did you get so good at math?” Jake asked as he crossed out 123 hoagies.
Morgan shrugged. She didn’t have any idea why math or any subject involving numbers came easily to her. “I don’t know. Why are you so good at throwing spirals?”
He gave her a quick smile and then put his focus back on his homework. He finished the math problem and the next three quickly. She knew he didn’t need her help anymore, and though she would have loved to stay there and watch him Morgan shifted in her seat and prepared to stand.
Jake grabbed her wrist and she looked at him. “Eighth graders shouldn’t need homework help from sixth graders,” he said. Morgan searched his eyes. She could tell he was a little embarrassed, but something else was wrong… or right? She inhaled sharply. He was just inches from her. His lips parted slightly as his gaze shifted from her eyes to her mouth. Jake blinked a few times and then he released her wrist. “But it seems like I do… so thanks.”
Morgan covered her wrist and rubbed the skin that had been set on fire by Jake’s touch. What just happened? She had always thought that Jake was cute, that he was her hero, her protector. She had had a crush on him since she was five. But when he touched her a moment ago, when he looked at her as if he was going to kiss her… She didn’t know what to say, all she knew was that she felt hot. She forced out the first thing that came to her and said, “Well, it was my turn to rescue you.” Morgan stood and scurried to the living room just in time to hear Doc explain the secrets of the flux capacitor to Marty McFly.
Morgan rolled over and cursed herself for falling asleep to the television. Back to the Future had lured her asleep last night and apparently it had awakened a memory she had long since forgotten and prompted her to dream of Jake. Damn eighties movies! Frustrated, she got ready for work and was in the office within the hour.
Morgan was happy for the distraction. It was difficult for her mind to wander when treating patients. The half Lab, half Golden mix puppy on the exam table had her full attention and he wagged incessantly as she poured on the love.
“I adopted Duke from the shelter two days ago. They assured me that he had all his vaccinations and showed me the paperwork, but I wanted a vet to look him over just to be sure,” his owner said.
Morgan scratched Duke between his ears. “Well, Ms. Shepard… ”
“It’s Kendra,” the pet owner said.
Morgan smiled and said, “Kendra, Duke is acting happy and healthy, but we can give him a routine workup if you like.”
“That would be great,” Kendra said, smiling. The sight irked Morgan. Because that smile Kendra was flashing seemed fake and way too forced. “I hope you give him a clean bill of health because I don’t have time to deal with a sick dog.”
What the fuck? Why did people take on a pet if they didn’t have the time or love for one? Morgan stared at the pretty brunette, took in some deep breaths, and prayed that she would keep her thoughts to herself. Morgan cleared her throat and said, “Let’s finish our exam. I bet Duke wants to get out of here.” Duke continued wagging, proving her wrong and making her look like an ass.
Chapter Eight
Morgan
“Where is Reagan taking us?”
Morgan gave herself a once-over in the mirror and decided that it was as good as it was going to get. She had strapped on the clubbing gear with Carina last month, but she still felt uncomfortable in the form-fitting dress and heels. She would rather be in her favorite jeans and t-shirt, but Reagan would most definitely throw a fit and force her, maybe physically, to change into something sexy.
>
“Um… not sure,” Allison yelled from Morgan’s bathroom. “She just told me to have you ready by eight.”
Morgan heard the water begin to run and the distinct sound of someone vigorously brushing her teeth. Allison was a shitty liar and right now her dear friend was keeping something from her. Morgan walked out of her closet and stood in the open doorway of her bathroom. Allison was in mid-spit when Morgan asked, “You know exactly where we’re headed tonight. Don’t you?” Carina was standing next to Allison and fixing her makeup in the mirror. Carina stopped applying her mascara, flashed Allison a guilty look and returned her attention to the mirror.
Allison took a sip of water from the tap and gargled. The doorbell sounded. Morgan narrowed her eyes at her mischievous friends. “You two are not off the hook!”
Morgan answered the door and was immediately blinded by Reagan’s pink fluorescent dress. Though Morgan wouldn’t be caught dead in a color that reminded her of Pepto-Bismol or be confident with ninety-five percent of her body exposed, Reagan looked incredible.
“You bitches better be ready,” Reagan said, marching into Morgan’s foyer. “We’ve worked our asses off this week and it’s time to unload.”
Morgan couldn’t help but smile. Reagan’s excitement was infectious, and she suddenly didn’t feel so awkward in her own low cut, hip-hugging dress. Reagan was right. It had been a long week. Morgan had seen more clients in one week than she did in an entire month while working with Owen. Reagan and Allison hadn’t exaggerated. Business was booming and Morgan couldn’t be happier to bury herself in her work and not think about...
Feeling brazen and slightly pissed off, Morgan hiked up her dress a little, just for the hell of it. Allison and Carina joined them in the foyer and the four of them left. To go where exactly? Morgan had no idea, but she got the sense that something was definitely up.
***
Jake
“Hey man, don’t take this the wrong way, but any chance you’re free tonight?” Josh asked.
“I was about to crack open a beer and rent a movie. Why? What’s up?”
“Carina is going clubbing with friends tonight and… well, it’s the first time she has gone out to a place like that since… well, you know.”
Josh had every reason to fear for Carina’s safety. Although the son of a bitch who had attempted to rape and murder Carina last month was awaiting trial and completely incapacitated, Josh’s angst and apprehension over letting his fiancée out of his sight was and would always be, at least in Jake’s mind, justified. Jake didn’t say it, but Josh had just scored major points with him. His sister deserved a man who cherished her, who would do anything to protect her. She deserved Josh Graham. “No problem. Where are they headed?”
Jake switched off the television and returned his unopened beer to the fridge.
“Some club called Suede. It’s on Fourth and Samson.”
Jake had heard of the place, but he had never been there. He hadn’t set foot in a club in over a year. Quiet, off-the-beaten-path pubs were more his speed these days. “I’m leaving now,” he said, grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter.
“Great, I’ll meet you there.”
Jake was about to hang up when he heard Josh say, “Just a heads up… Morgan is with them.”
A strange but comfortable silence passed between them. “How did you know? Did Carina say… ”
“Carina didn’t have to.” Josh sighed. “I may be the new guy, but that day we helped Morgan’s mom move… there’s definitely something going on.”
Jake set his alarm and locked the front door. “The problem is… I just don’t know what that thing is anymore.” Jake entered his car and pulled away from the curb, knowing damn well that he was most likely making a huge fucking mistake.
Chapter Nine
Morgan
As she looked at her surroundings, Morgan could feel the life draining from her body. She was bombarded by miniskirts, shoulder pads, and enormous hoop earrings. Struggling to breathe, she turned and faced the bar only to find parachute pants in an array of obnoxious colors and Members Only jackets. But what sent her over the edge was the overwhelming scent of Drakkar circulating throughout the club walls.
“I’ve gone to hell,” Morgan said.
“Not hell. Eighties Night.” Reagan grabbed her hand and led her to the bar. “You can thank me for not forcing you to dress the part.” Reagan waved a twenty in the air as a signal to the bartender.
“You know eighties music is my personal Kryptonite,” Morgan said. The bartender, who was wearing a two-inch thick layer of blue eye shadow, arrived and took Reagan’s order.
“And that is why I plan on getting you nice and drunk, sweetie.” Reagan leaned in and gave Morgan a quick smooch on the lips. “By the end of the night you’ll be dancing to this shit.”
And as if on cue, A-ha’s “Take on Me” drowned Reagan out and the dance floor was suddenly packed with women sporting leg warmers, stretch-stirrup pants, and big hair. Men in Jordache jeans and OP shirts joined them and her eighties nightmare officially began.
“I’ll bet you the next round that I won’t set foot on that dance floor.” Morgan looked around. “Does that guy have a mullet?”
“Oh honey, you are on. Now drink up!” Reagan said, handing her a shot of lord knows what. Morgan didn’t ask what was in the glass. If it was going to help erase the images of men wearing acid wash jeans and jams, she was in. Morgan tossed back her drink and slammed the empty shot glass on the bar. The sweet liquid slid down her throat and she winced as the burn and aftertaste hit her all at once.
“I don’t know what you just gave me, but that was awful. I’ll stick to lemon drops.” Reagan laughed and then ordered enough shots for their group of four. With drinks in tow, they headed to the round top that Carina and Allison had claimed when they first arrived. But the vultures had already started to swarm. Two guys dressed like Crockett and Tubbs from “Miami Vice” were putting the moves on Carina and Allison.
Carina and Allison lit up when they spotted Morgan and Reagan walking toward their table. It was obvious the sockless duo had no clue that the women they were hitting on had zero interest in them. “Ladies, liquid sanity has arrived,” Reagan said, placing shots in front of Carina and Allison. Morgan handed one of the shots she was holding to Reagan. Disregarding the men completely Reagan took her shot, raised her glass in the air and said, “To the loveliest bunch of bitches in this place.” Morgan giggled and threw her drink back. Her gag reflex wasn’t triggered this time around and she finally started to relax a little.
As promised, Reagan kept her hydrated over the next hour. She was buzzed and happy until she felt a hand on her ass. Morgan turned abruptly and faced Crockett. His sheepish grin wasn’t cute or even slightly sexy. She didn’t like assholes and as she did on many occasions, she shared her feelings. Morgan leaned into Crockett and asked, “Is that your hand on my ass?”
Crockett smirked and said, “Yeah. Do you want more than just my hand touching your ass?”
In a husky voice, one that was meant to tease, she said, “Do you want to walk out of here with a limp?”
Crockett retracted his hand in an instant and moved away from her. Tubbs must have seen the exchange because he joined his friend and the two men drifted to another pod of women. Carina let out a laugh and alerted the table about what had just happened. Allison and Reagan laughed so hard that they were crying. Carina could barely relay the story through her own tears.
“Time to dance, lovelies,” Reagan said, breaking up story hour.
Before Morgan could refuse, Allison grabbed her by the hand and dragged her onto the dance floor. Despite being surrounded by velour and Wham blaring from the speakers, Morgan let go and danced with, as Reagan so eloquently put it, her bitches. Enjoying her much-needed buzz, Morgan laughed and swayed to the cringeworthy music.
But the vultures were no longer circling their prey. They were moving in. Some were even so bold as to leave their curren
t dance partners and attempt to join their foursome. Reagan silently permitted those she deemed worthy into their circle. For the others less fortunate, she bluntly told them to fuck off. As expected, Crockett and Tubbs were denied entry. Allison swiftly gained a dance partner while Morgan happily danced with Carina and Reagan. But within a few moments, a man started to grind Morgan from behind. Even in her drunken state she still thought it was out of place for grinding to occur to “Mony Mony.” Morgan reached out her hand and Reagan pulled her away from the unwelcome thrusts. Morgan was about to thank her for the much-appreciated rescue when Morgan noticed Reagan’s eyes drift past her and then grow wide.
“I had a great night, honey,” Reagan said.
Her head was a little fluid at the moment, but Morgan felt like she was telling her goodbye. “Are you leaving?” Morgan asked.
Reagan gave her a peck on the cheek. “No, but I think you are,” Reagan said, giving her a nod.
Morgan turned around. The room started to spin and her body grew hot in multiple places. She wanted to think it was the effects of the alcohol alone that impaired her senses, but that would be a load of shit. It was the man walking toward her, the man who had ruined her for anyone who was foolish enough to challenge a ghost.
***
Jake
“Morgan.”
Her hands went to her shapely hips and then they fell to her sides like she didn’t know what to do with them. She bit her lip and then attacked. “What are you doing here?”
“Josh was worried about my sister, which is understandable, considering.”
Morgan looked over at Carina, who had already been whisked away by Josh. Carina looked deliriously happy in Josh’s arms as they retreated to a darkened corner of the club. “Yeah, that makes sense. But why are you here?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest. Her face was flushed and she had a difficult time looking him in the eye. Her cheeks turned a violent shade of red. Jake couldn’t determine if she was embarrassed, pissed or a bit of both. Whatever the reason she looked fucking beautiful… and a bit tipsy.
