The Night Manager

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The Night Manager Page 2

by Tarrah Anders


  “Yeah, it’s been a few weeks,” I mumble. Fourteen days, seven hours to be precise.

  “Do you have any recollection of the night?”

  “Some,” I lie, biting my bottom lip.

  It’s true. At first I didn’t remember anything, but bits and pieces have come back to me here and there. Those bits and pieces have led to many cold showers. By the way, cold showers do not help one bit. You want to know what does help? Rubbing one out! Which I’ve done a lot over the past two weeks.

  I have flashes of skin, of teeth scraping along parts of my body that haven’t had a woman's intimate touch in a while, and hands roaming all over the place.

  I can feel my cock hardening again as my thoughts run rampant.

  “Jacks. Jacks?” Her voice cuts through the images and I blink back to reality.

  “What’s that?” I focus my eyes on her.

  “So what have you been up to?” Her hand is on her jutted-out hip, and her back is to me while she turns the bacon over. With this view, I have the opportunity to check her out while she isn’t looking. A part of me feels ashamed, but the other part is blaming my gawking of her for the shitty sleep and my mind not thinking straight.

  “Work,” I reply.

  And thinking about the night we spent together.

  “That’s it?” She looks over her shoulder at me then resumes her eyes on the stove in front of her.

  “Yup.” I nod to reinforce my fib keeping my eyes firmly attached to her arse.

  Fucking liar.

  “All work and no play makes Jacks a dull boy.”

  “I’m not dull. I’m running a successful club that needs my attention more than my social life does,” I protest.

  “So, you wake up and go to work? Rinse and Repeat?”

  “Well, I work out in the middle, I socialize with your brother and Beck and I go to social events as requested. Enough about me.” We don’t need to go over how much of a workaholic I am. What have you been doing since you moved to the city?”

  Chapter Two

  Cam

  I can’t believe that I’m standing in Jacks’s kitchen, cooking breakfast. Who would have thought that, of all my stupid decisions in life, the last-minute chance I took coming to his place in the middle of the night would turn out so well?

  I didn’t like the feeling of having nowhere to go, but faking my confidence as long as I have has served me well.

  I knew the moment he walked into the kitchen, because the whole atmosphere shifted. I didn’t let on that I knew, but it was obvious from the change in energy when he walked into the room. His scent, while it’s everywhere since this is his home, got even stronger as he came up behind me. Still, when he spoke, it scared me. Guess I was so focused on the bacon and making sure it was the perfect amount of crisp.

  “What have you been doing since you moved to the city?” he asks, avoiding my probing about his lack of social life.

  “Well, I work at one of the hotels on the Strip. Right now, I’m at the front desk, checking people in and such. I’ve hung out with Beck a bunch when she’s not at the club and my one friend Sam has been hanging out with me a lot since I’ve been here, which is probably why she asked for some privacy. Since I got here, she hasn’t really had any alone time with her boyfriend. Plus, her place is small. I sense that he’ll try to talk her into not letting me crash at her place anymore. The few times I've met him, he didn't particularly warm to me. So…yeah.” I shrug.

  "Did you move here without a place lined up? Why are you staying with your friend?"

  "I had a place, but the pictures in the ad were definitely not the place. The ad made the place look like paradise, but when I went there, it was a matchbox. Lots of angry-looking blokes poking around too. I forfeited the place after a week and Sam was kind enough to let me crash with her until I could find something better."

  “That sucks. What kind of schedule do you work?” he asks. I plate the bacon, reach for the door of the microwave and pull out the pancakes I was keeping warm and set it all on the counter. His eyes bulge as I present to him everything that I’ve cooked this morning.

  “It changes. But I’ve got twelve-to-eights this week.”

  "Thank you," Jacks says as I push a plate in front of him.

  Jacks rummages around in a drawer close to where he’s standing, pulls out a keychain and holds it out to me. With an arched brow, I tentatively reach for it.

  “For the house, the fob opens the gate. You can stay here for as long as you need. Like I said last night, I’ve got the space. And since I’m not home a lot, the fact that someone else can spend time here, makes it worth buying.”

  “You work the night shift, right?”

  “I do. I’m the night manager. Your brother is the day manager.”

  “But aren’t you guys the owners?” I ask, confused.

  “We are, but we split a lot of the managerial duties. Since it's just us right now, we have to put the time in ourselves.”

  “So why the night manager?”

  “Mal and Beck were a package deal. Her work was day hours, so his should be too. They deserved to be on the same schedule.”

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?” he asks as if my question made no sense.

  “Wouldn’t you want to be on the same schedule as your girlfriend?”

  “Love, I don’t have a girlfriend.” He tilts his head and looks at me as if he sees right through my questioning.

  “But if you had one?”

  “Then we’d cross that line if it came up. But I haven’t had a real girlfriend since moving here. Plus, who would want to try and build a relationship around my hours?" He pauses. "This is the earliest that I’ve been awake in over a year. If I had breakfast made every day, I would get no sleep with some of the late nights that I put in.”

  “When I work one of the random late, late shifts, I still wake up with the sun.”

  “That would not work with me. I need my beauty rest.” He laughs.

  “No you don’t,” I say quietly.

  “Anyway, where did you park your car?” he asks, changing the subject.

  “It’s parked along the curb just outside your community gates. I didn’t have the super-human strength to pick it up and throw it over the gate.” I smile.

  “After this bountiful meal you have prepared, we’ll go grab it and put the visitor parking plaque in there,” Jacks says while eying all the breakfast goodies.

  “Jacks, really. I can stay with Sam,” I protest, even though at Sam’s is the last place I want to be.

  “Nah. I have the space, you need a spot, and after all, we’re practically family,” he says uncomfortably.

  “Yeah. Family.” I agree with a tentative smile.

  Family who has seen each other naked. Family who has undoubtedly rocked me ten ways to Sunday sexually. Family who obviously still have the hots for one another.

  We eat together in silence, with occasional groans of satisfaction between bites. Jacks wipes his mouth and then smiles while folding his arms behind his head.

  “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 over 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.”

 

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