The Night Moves Boxset: (Stripped, The Hook-up, The Night Manager)

by Tarrah Anders

“I will be honest. I haven’t had a home-cooked breakfast like that in a while. Beck attempted to cook breakfast here and there, but she burnt the pancakes one time and I stopped going over there for meals.”

  “How do you burn pancakes?” I say with a laugh.

  He shrugs and gives me a half smirk. A smirk that is kind of amazing and a smirk that says he knows he’s attractive.

  The silence resumes and while it’s comfortable, I want to keep him talking to me.

  “So Jacks, do you still do the dancing?” I ask.

  “Do the dancing?” He laughs at my choice of words. “No, I retired and strictly do the managing. I create some of the choreography for the guys but my days on stage ended when Mal and I opened The Essentials,” he says proudly.

  “So, what’s the story behind the name?” My brother never told me the reasoning and I never cared enough to ask. Suddenly, I’m enthralled and I want to know everything that Jacks is willing to tell me.

  “We have all that you could need. We have the essentials. We have a flavor for everyone. Male and female, gay and straight. Our routines are focused on real fantasies. We took a market survey and the results indicated that women like men who are gainfully employed and women like men who are just a little bit dirty,” he rattles off with ease.

  “And what about the men?” I place my chin on my hand and lean toward him.

  “We’re simple creatures. Tits and ass with a nice smile.”

  “Bloody Oath!” I laugh. “And the place is going off?” I ask him, hoping they are a success.

  “Indeed. There have been struggles here and there, but for the most part, it’s been aces.”

  “So you and Mal have become tall poppies?”

  “I wouldn’t say that just yet. We’re still growing, but we seem to be headed toward success.”

  “I’m happy for you guys. Good on ‘ya. When Mal told me you guys were opening up a club, I knew it would do great.”

  “Thanks.” He blushes and clears his throat. “Let me grab my runners and we’ll go get your car. I’ve got some errands I need to do before heading to the club.”

  Jacks leaves the room and I take a quick breath. I want to ask him more personal questions, but I don’t want to scare him away. If I’ll be hanging out here for a bit, then we’ll have plenty of time to talk about the nitty gritty items of our lives, or lack thereof.

  The hotel is busy today. There’s a concert happening this weekend, so the front desk has had an increase in check-ins. While so far my shift has gone by fast, my mind keeps wandering to thoughts of Jacks.

  I know that I should get over my crush on him, being that he’s my older brother’s best friend and business partner. However, I still can’t get our one night out of my head and I’m not particularly sure that I want to.

  Later in the evening, I use the spare key Jacks gave me to let myself into his home. I haven’t had a chance to explore, but since he’s not here I wander from room to room, trailing my fingers over his books and Blu-Ray collection in his living room, to the framed photos on his mantle. I realize that these are the only photos I’ve seen around the house, which I find interesting.

  There’s a photo of Mal and Jacks from back home at the beach with their surfboards. The photo is almost ten years old and both guys look like babies. Jacks’s body was less defined then, and his hair was slightly longer, but his smile was undeniably genuine as he stood there with his arm around my brother’s shoulders. I admired their tanned skin, still wet as if they’d just come out of the water, and then it dawned on me.

  I took this photo!

  I was there that day!

  We had spent the morning at Curl Curl beach. I’d hung out on the beach with a book while the guys surfed, then we went and grabbed a late breakfast of bacon and eggs at the surf club. The guys had caught some epic waves and I had forced them to take a photo together to remember the day. That was back when I followed my brother and his friends around just like any annoying pest of a sister would do.

  I smile. Jacks kept a photo that I took. Granted, it was a photo of my brother and him, but I took the photo, and I was there too.

  I know I’m reading too much into it. They’re best mates and the fact that I was the one who took that photo is purely coincidental and doesn’t matter. I’m sure he doesn’t even remember that I was there that day.

  But I do.

  A hand is on my shoulder gently shaking me. I hear my name, but the voice is deep and muffled. I can’t open my eyes, they’re too heavy and I’m too comfortable. I smile — at least, I think I do — and nuzzle deeper into the pillow just as arms go underneath me, grazing my breast, and under my knees. Suddenly, I’m lifted and the warmth of the couch pillow and the softness of the cushions vanishes.

  I open my eyes and my face is centimeters away from Jacks’s neck as I inhale his scent. The urge to bury my face there is strong in the haze of waking up. Instead my arms tighten around Jacks’s neck and I laugh quietly.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, my voice raw from sleep.

  “Taking you to bed.”

  Yes, Please.

  “What time is it?” I lean into him as he walks down the hallway and into the bedroom I’m staying in.

  “It’s four in the morning,” he replies quietly as he bends and deposits me on the soft bed. He lightly brushes the hair off my forehead and smiles as he looks down at me.

  I stretch and his eyes go to my stomach where my top lifts with the movement. He quickly looks away and puts his hands in his pockets.

  “Night, Cam,” he says, turning on his heel as he retreats from the bedroom.

  “Hey, Jacks?” He stops just before the doorway and turns. “Goodnight.” I wish I could have thought of something more creative to say, but my sleepy mind didn’t work fast enough. He smiles, nods and then is out of sight heading to his bedroom.

  His scent still lingers in the room. I commit to memory the strength of his arms as he carried me through the house and laid me gently on the bed, and his light touch as he brushed my bangs off out of my eyes.

  I sigh and smile.

  I hear the shower running in his en suite bathroom, then the sound of his shower door opening and closing and I wish I was in there with him.

  As I listen to the water, I hear what I think is a groan coming from that direction. I press my legs together but then decide to not fight the need as I slip my hand down the front of my knickers and take a deep breath. The door to my bedroom is still open and so is his if I can hear his shower. I imagine the hot water rushing down his shoulders, over his chest, down his stomach, and then running off his stiff cock.

  I bite my lower lip as my fingertips graze the wetness in between my legs and I let out a strangled moan. I dip my middle finger in and relish the feeling, then slide two fingers in and out of myself. My hips angle and move up and down in rhythm with my digits as I fuck myself. I pretend that my fingers are Jacks’s, that the blanket over me is the weight of Jacks, that he’s looking at me with carnal need as he gets me off. The heel of my hand rubs over my clit, my legs straighten, my breathing hitches and I see colors. I can feel my pussy throbbing as I come. My fingers are squeezed as I completely let go. I slowly pull my hand out of my underwear and sit up in bed.

  I sigh with satisfaction. That was a damn good orgasm. I remove the covers and remove my pants. In just my underwear, I stroll into the bathroom attached to this bedroom, wash my hands and dry them. I exit the bedroom in search of something to drink and run straight into Jacks.

  Jacks’s skin is still damp from his shower and he’s in a towel. Just a towel. However, that towel is now at my feet after it came off when our bodies collided. My hand is on his right pec and I’m not sure I want to remove it, but I do anyway. I slowly look down at his impressive cock and instinctively lick my lips.

  “Crap. Sorry,” I say, taking a step back into the doorway, covering my eyes with my hands, but leaving space between my fingers to watch as he fumbles for his towel and bunches it o
ver himself to cover up.

  He looks down and at that moment I remember that I’m not wearing pants. He stares and says nothing. After a moment, though, his eyes return to mine with a heat so intense I could combust.

  “I thought you were sleeping. Sorry I’m improperly dressed here,” he says quietly, motioning to his towel. “I, um… will be heading to bed now. Night.” He bolts to his bedroom but leaves his door open. I watch his bare ass disappear into his room and run my hands over my face while groaning quietly into them.

  That was by far the hottest accident to happen today.

  Chapter Three

  Jacks

  I’ve successfully maintained my distance from Cam for the few days since she’s been staying at my place. I’ve waited until she was in the shower before leaving the house to hit the gym. I have started going to work earlier than usual just in case she comes home. All this because I’m afraid I can’t keep my distance from her. The night my towel dropped in the hallway, I had to fight the urge to push her into her bedroom and onto her bed. She had been wearing just a t-shirt and underwear, although since the underwear was covered by her oversized t-shirt, my cock thought she was bare under there.

  So, to keep my shit cool, I focus on work.

  I’m sitting in the manager’s office with Mal when his wife Rebeckha walks in. She pulls two brown bags from her purse and sets one in front of each of us.

  “What’s this?” Mal asks curiously.

  She sits down, digs around in her purse again and pulls another bag out.

  “What the hell? What else do you have? Can you pull a car out of there?” I laugh at the thought of her having a bottomless purse.

  “Oh shut it. I brought you guys lunch, no making fun of my bag.” She waves us our teasing.

  I open my bag and, sure enough, there’s a sandwich, some chips, and a miniature bottled water.

  She’s so good to us, I think while smiling to myself.

  “Thank you, Beck,” I say, pulling out my food.

  “Least I can do, since you’ve been putting in more time here at the club. Don’t want to be all alone in your place all of a sudden?” She winks.

  Does she know that Cam is staying with me? Why would she wink? Does she know about us hooking up at their wedding?

  Shit! Does Mal know?

  I look to my best mate and he’s so busy taking a massive bite out of his sandwich, he isn’t paying his wife any attention.

  “Well?” she probes.

  “Nah, just making sure that I’m getting shit done right. I don’t want to get lazy,” I say. It’s mostly the truth.

  “Speaking of which, since we started The Essentials, we haven’t had much, if any, time off. We need to hire an assistant manager, give us both some chill time. Maybe force each of us to take time off or something,” Mal says around chewing his sandwich.

  I shake my head. “I don’t need a vacation, mate. I enjoy what we do. We knew the first few years would be non-stop. Plus, did you not just hear me, I don’t want to get lazy.”

  “True, but you both can’t burn out. All work and no play makes Jacks and Mal dull boys.” Beck smiles as Mal rolls his eyes.

  “Oh, that’s clever. Haven’t heard that one before,” I quip, throwing a chip her way. It lands halfway between her and me. We both smile as the chip drops on the floor by her foot.

  Cam just said that saying to me, could there be any truth to it?

  I have fun, sometimes. Right?

  The three of us finish our lunches and I reluctantly agree to hire an assistant manager to take some of the load off of us. It’s smart, but what will I do with my time now that I have a hot-as-sin new roommate, who also happens to be my best mate’s little sister and, as I’m now learning, my weakness.

  Mal and Beck leave together as I’m changing from my slacks into my work out pants before heading downstairs to do some choreography with some of our dancers. The first hour of rehearsal is men only, then we bring in the women for the routines that they perform with the guys and then the ladies have the last hour for their rehearsals. On days like this, I have a legit excuse for being at work several hours before the place opens. It's a part of my job that I enjoy and it also keeps me in shape.

  When Mal and I first began discussing opening our own place, we were dancing for an all-male revue in one of the casinos. We did well, we had a following, but Mal had bigger ambitions. I knew I didn’t want to be a dancer my entire life, so I joined in on his venture silently at first, just in case our plans fell through. It was stupid of me to doubt our ideas, but I didn’t know at the time what else to do. When we first opened, it was amazing. We had just as big of a following as we did at our previous job, we created a buzz, advertised right and had Beck helping on the office side since she was keen on business matters.

  We’re lucky. In Las Vegas, not many clubs like ours can hit it big at the start and stay on top, but here we are eighteen months after we first opened our doors and there’s no slowing down in our foreseeable future.

  The guys and I set a good pace for our first hour of practice. When the women come in, we go over three combined routines and then release the guys as our principal choreographer joins the group.

  I head home quickly and grab a shower. As I’m putting on my trousers, I hear Cam tinkering around in the kitchen. I finish getting ready for my evening at the club before emerging from my room to the aroma of pasta sauce and garlic bread. Cam is standing in front of the stove, stirring her concoction and turns when I enter the room.

  “Hey, stranger,” she says and then turns back to the stove.

  “Hey,” I reply sheepishly as I fold up the sleeves of my shirt.

  “Haven’t seen you in a few days. I thought you were deliberately avoiding me because of towel-gate,” she teases as she continues stirring.

  Even though my mind is screaming at me to avoid the conversation and her all together, my body drifts towards her like I’m a magnet and she’s my iron.

  “Just been busy at the club,” I reply, sidling up to her and peering around her. I inhale deeply. “Smells delicious.”

  “Thanks. You know, you guys should get a day off here and there. Since I’ve been here, I don’t think you have had one,”

  “We actually discussed that this afternoon. We’re going to be hiring someone to take the load off of Mal and me. But we knew starting this up that we would have little to no days of relaxation.”

  “All work—” she starts and I cover her mouth. Her eyes are wide, she squeaks and drops the spoon she was using. Pasta sauce splatters all over the previously clean stove.

  “Nope. I hate that saying. I ban it from this house. If you live here, you’re not allowed to say it.”

  “But technically, I don’t live here,” she says from under my hand.

  I pull back and wipe my hand on my leg. “Technically, are you looking for other housing options?” I quirk my eyebrows.

  She looks away. “Not really,” she mumbles.

  “Then you live here, love,” I say, inwardly happy she admitted that. “So, as I said, you cannot say that stupid saying.”

  “Yes, sir!” she playfully salutes, as my cock twitches.

  “I’ve got to be going. Have a good night.” I kiss the side of her head out of reflex, both of us freezing as my lips touch her skin. Wordlessly, I walk away with sweaty palms and my heart pounding at the affectionate touch.

  “And for those reasons, I believe I would be a great asset to your establishment.” The woman in front of Mal and me finalizes her hire me speech with a smile.

  “Thank you,” —I look at her resume in my hand— “Ms. Williams. We’ll be in touch.” Mal and I stand in unison and, as I button my jacket, I round the table of the booth we’re sitting in and extend my hand.

  Still maintaining her big smile, Ms. Williams takes my hand and shakes it firmly before mirroring the action with Mal.

  Once she’s out of the club, I return to the booth and slouch against the soft leather seats
.

  “How many more are there?” I groan, my head falling into my hands, my fingers rubbing my temples.

  “That was the last one we have scheduled. We’ve interviewed seven people in the last seventy-two hours. Do we want to keep the position up or do you have a favorite?” Mal asks.

  “I like the dapper fella who came in yesterday afternoon, and the busty chick who was first today.”

  “The busty chick? You’re not saying you like her for her tits, are ya?”

  I make a face of disgust and shake my head. “Not my type.”

  “Oh yeah, and what is your type nowadays?” Mal asks from where he sits across from me.

  “Female.” Your sister is my type.

  "Could you vague that up for me?" Mal laughs.

  “I do what I can.” I shrug.

  “So, hey, my sister told me she’s staying at your place while she finds a new spot. Why haven’t you said anything?” Mal asks.

  Shit! What do I say? This is awkward.

  “Yeah. She’s been staying with me for a few weeks. Sorry, mate. I forgot to mention it,” I reply.

  “Weird,” Mal says.

  “What’s weird about it?” I ask, my tone defensive.

  “That she didn’t come to us.” He shakes his head.

  I look at my mate, really study him and note there’s nothing in his voice or body language hinting that he believes Cam staying with me is a bad idea. He seems to have no inkling that there is an attraction between me and his sister.

  “You guys are newlyweds. She doesn’t want to be in your space, especially if you two are fucking like donkeys all over the place.”

  “We don’t fuck like donkeys. I mean really, how do donkeys fuck that would be even close to how Beck and I fuck? When we make love, it’s beautiful and like a symphony of—”

  “I don’t need to know what sex is like with your wife.” I put my hand up to stop him from continuing.

  “So, back to my sister. You cool with her staying with you? Because she can definitely stay with us if she’s cramping your style.”