Take Me

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Take Me Page 4

by Diane Alberts


  She had to focus on her career, not on the whims of a man.

  He slid on his jeans, his intense blue-green eyes locked on her. “I’m not used to this. I’m usually the one doing the pushing away. I don’t think I like it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You like it fine. You just wanted to be the one to push first.”

  “And you didn’t?” He yanked his shirt over his head and she watched those gorgeous abs until they disappeared under the material. “You don’t think that’s why you’re telling me to go?”

  No. Yes. Maybe. She pasted on a cool smile. “I’m just tired.”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  He clearly didn’t believe her. And worse? She didn’t believe herself, either. He stepped into his sneakers and pulled out his phone. “Can I have your number?”

  She cocked her head, her whole body going weak and tingly. He wanted to see her again. Was that a good idea? No, probably not. “Why do you want it?”

  “So I can never call you back.” He laughed nervously. “Why do you think I want it?”

  So he could come back, rock her world, and then leave again. The thought was tempting but she tried to avoid entanglements. The man always ended up wanting more than she was able to give. Always. At this point in her life, she was married to her career and was perfectly fine with that. “I think I’ll pass.”

  His eyes darkened and he dropped his hands at his sides. “Really?” She heard the disbelief in his voice.

  “Really.” Already, he wanted more than she wanted. “But thanks.”

  He shrugged and shoved his phone back in his pocket. His actions were jerky, but when he looked up at her, his expression suggested he didn’t give a damn. “Well, then, okay. It was a great night.”

  She swallowed hard and nodded. She hated the after-sex awkwardness. “’Bye. And can you lock up when you leave?”

  He started for the door, then stopped mid-stride. Cursing, he spun back around and grabbed her. Hauling her out of the bed bare assed naked, he crushed his lips to hers. Immediately, desire curled in her belly, demanding more. Demanding satisfaction.

  He twined his tongue with hers, his hands everywhere on her body. Then, without warning, she was back in the bed alone. Feeling bereft. And hating it.

  But he was already out the door—and out of her life.

  Collapsing back on the pillows, she heaved a sigh and closed her eyes. From now on, whenever she fantasized about a man in the dark, all alone in her bed…it would be Mike.

  Always Mike.

  Chapter Five

  Three days later, Mike sat at his desk grading papers, the late afternoon sun casting a soft glow over his desk. He slashed through an incorrect answer with his red pen.

  No, the War of 1812 was not fought against France, but rather Great Britain.

  No, Thomas Jefferson’s purchase of land from the French in 1812 wasn’t called Jefferson’s Deal, but rather the Louisiana Purchase.

  But when he accidentally marked a correct reply as wrong, he set the pen down and rubbed his temples. Son of a bitch, he couldn’t concentrate today worth a damn. Ever since Friday night, he could think of nothing but Morgan. The way she smelled. The way she tasted. Hell, the way she moaned when he was deep inside of her.

  She wouldn’t leave him the hell alone.

  He should have been happy when she’d refused to give him her number. Now he didn’t have to make excuses about why he didn’t want a relationship with her. Didn’t have to deal with the tears when he told her he couldn’t see her again. Didn’t have to deal with anything but the amazing, mind-blowing sex they’d shared the other night.

  At first he had thought the reason he’d been upset about Morgan rejecting him was because she’d pushed him away first, like she’d claimed. But he suspected that might not be the case at all, and instead wondered if it was because he hadn’t wanted her to push him away at all.

  It was an insane thought deserving of immediate assassination.

  A knock pulled him back to the present. Garrett popped his head in through the cracked door. “Hey, are you going to Brianna’s casino tonight?”

  His sister Brianna managed the Golden Hand and tonight they had some big huge show going on. It was part of the revitalization that her now-husband, Thomas, had orchestrated to bring new life to the casino. “Oh, fuck, that’s tonight, isn’t it?”

  “Watch your mouth.” Garrett shot him a look and closed the door. “It might be after four, but there are still some after-school activities going on.”

  Mike massaged his temples. “Sorry. It’s been a rough day.”

  “Lucky for you, we have tomorrow off for parent-teacher conferences. When’s your first appointment?”

  “Eleven, so I’ll get to sleep in. Thank God. I need it.”

  “I figured as much when you barely said a word at lunch.” Garrett came to his side. “What’s wrong, anyway?”

  “Nothing.” Mike forced a smile. “I’m just recovering from the other night.”

  “Ah.” Garrett grinned. “You went home with her, didn’t you? The girl you kept checking out.”

  “What girl?”

  Garrett rolled his eyes. “I’m not blind, dude. I saw her.”

  Shit. He’d tried to hide his distraction Friday night. He had been there for Garrett’s bachelor party, not to get laid. “Maybe.”

  “And you’re tired and cranky because…?”

  Because she wouldn’t give me her fucking number. “No reason.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Mike pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes. I’m going to the casino tonight. Why? You want a ride?”

  Garrett opened his mouth, then closed it again. Mike could practically see him fighting back the questions. “A ride would be great. Kiersten’s meeting me there after she drops Chris and Amy off at the sitter’s, and my truck’s in the shop.”

  Amy was their newborn baby. His niece already had Mike wrapped around her tiny little finger, as it should be. He could use a little bit of Amy time. “Maybe I should watch the kids instead. You guys could have a night out.”

  Garrett’s jaw dropped. “Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you? Since when do you choose changing diapers over going to the casino?”

  Since Morgan.

  “I’m just tired.”

  “Oh well. Slap on your big boy panties and get the hell up. You’re going.”

  Mike shook his head and stood. To argue now would make him appear even weaker than he felt. “Fine. But when you wanted to stay home and douche, I let you.”

  “No, you mocked me. And I wasn’t staying home, I was with your sister. Who I was in love with.” Garrett watched him a little too closely. “What’s your excuse?”

  “I don’t have one.” Mike shoved his chair in. “Let’s get this over with. I need food first, though.”

  “You sound so excited.”

  “I told you, I’m tired. What the fuck do you expect from me? Pom-poms and a short skirt?”

  A shit-eating grin spread across Garrett’s face. “A guy could hope.”

  Mike flipped him off and headed for the door. He would go to support Brianna, but then he was going home to hit the rack early. And he certainly wouldn’t be thinking about Morgan when he fell asleep.

  Mike settled into the U-shaped VIP booth at the casino theater, surrounded by Thomas, Brianna, Kiersten, and Garrett. He sipped his beer and looked around. Even with the lights turned down low, he could see how much attention to detail Thomas’s company had paid to the remodel. Gone was the outdated eighties carpet and in its place was an updated, contemporary feel. The wood floors and dark mahogany booths screamed of comfort and luxury. “Thomas, you did amazing work in here.”

  Thomas grinned. “I know. Brianna was a certifiable wreck the whole time we gutted t
he place but I knew it would be for the best. Just look at the turnaround already, and on the first night.”

  Brianna swatted his arm. “It’s not my fault. You had some crazy ideas about this place. Brand new honeymoon suites that cost over a thousand dollars a night. Theater on site. Knocking out half the casino floor for it. It’s crazy talk.”

  “I was crazy about you when I met you, too.” He nuzzled her neck. “And look how well that worked out for us.”

  Brianna rolled her eyes but didn’t push him away. Even though his brotherly urge was to punch his brother-in-law for pawing his sister, Mike smiled. He couldn’t help it. He loved seeing how happy she was. First Brianna, and then Kiersten.

  It made him all warmhearted and fucking mushy inside to think of his sisters being so damned happy. “Well, the space looks great.”

  “Yeah, it does.” Kiersten reached across the table, her hair brushing the dark surface, and squeezed Brianna’s hand. “Great job.”

  Garrett nodded, his arm thrown over Kiersten’s shoulder. “Absolutely.”

  “Thanks.” Brianna smiled at Thomas. “Wait till you see the show. It’s amazing. We had to get a last minute replacement because one of the girls got sick, but she’s great.”

  As if on cue, the curtains lifted. Within seconds, girls in beaded bras and feather skirts were on the stage. Beaded bras that reminded him of Morgan. Shit, there he went thinking about her again. He obviously needed another taste to get her out of his system. To get him in the red zone. Hell, even the girl in the middle made him think of…

  Oh, fuck. That was Morgan.

  She was on his sister’s stage, kicking her legs up like a Rockette girl. She smiled the whole time she flitted across the stage.

  And he couldn’t stop watching her. She was amazing.

  By the time the show ended, he was practically humming with sexual frustration. She’d kicked those perfect legs up for all to see. Shook her ass for all to see, too. Everyone in the damn room got to see what she no longer wanted Mike to have. Because of what?

  Why had she pushed him away? Why wasn’t he supposed to touch her anymore? Why couldn’t he have her? Why didn’t she want him as much as he wanted her? As the stage lights dimmed, she caught sight of him. Her eyes widened and her smile slipped for a fraction of a second, but just before she exited the stage, she shot him a cocky grin over her shoulder. And then she winked. Fucking winked at him. As if she knew how much it tortured him to see her up there.

  Fuck that.

  After making some half-assed excuse about having to go to the bathroom, he excused himself from his family. He pushed past the security guard and flashed the VIP badge Brianna had given him to get backstage. He followed the sound of feminine laughter and found Morgan in a room filled with babbling women.

  All of them stopped talking and stared at him when he opened the door, but Mike barely noticed their attention. His eyes were on one girl and one only—and she was alone with no one by her side. He could be by her side. He could be her person.

  He crooked his finger at her. She gave him a dirty look and shook her head. He raised a brow and crooked his finger again, and then pointed to the floor in front of his feet. If that didn’t piss her off enough to make her come over, nothing would. She hesitated, but then she stood.

  Crossing the room, she put her hand on her curvy hip and glowered at him, her blue eyes spitting flames of fire. She’d changed into a pair of shorts and a soft pink top. “What do you want?” she hissed.

  He held out his hand. “Come with me.”

  A look of desire flitted across her features but she seemed to try to press it down. To ignore it. He wished her luck with that. He’d been trying to tamp down his longing for her ever since Friday night and he’d been failing miserably.

  “No,” she answered firmly.

  He wiggled the fingers on his outstretched hand. “Yes.”

  She disregarded his hand and shook her head. “I’m not some puppy you can call to your side when you want me. Go back to your seat.”

  “After watching you up there all night, shaking your ass at me?” He hauled her close, not even caring that at least ten sets of curious eyes were on them. “Not. Happening.”

  She shoved at his chest. “Lots of guys get horny watching women dance. Go find someone else to scratch your itch.”

  “It has to be you,” he said simply. And for some odd reason…it was true. He paused. “Please, Morgan.”

  And the steam left her. She rested her hands on his chest, no longer pushing him away. “You know a place we can talk privately?”

  He didn’t answer, just grabbed her hand and led her out of the crowded room. She clung to him, following him as he led her to the back office that was reserved for management. Brianna had shown it to him earlier. When he found it, he pushed her inside the shadowed room and locked the door.

  She crossed her arms. “I thought we were both very clear about what we wanted from each other the other night.”

  “We were.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  Good question. One he didn’t want to answer, so he only brushed the surface of it. “I came to see the show. I had no idea you were in it.”

  “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you.” He lifted a shoulder. “I wanted to see you again, and now here I am.”

  He saw her eyes go soft in the dim light, but then she pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Well, you saw me. Now I’m leaving.”

  She brushed by him and he caught hold of her elbow. Without giving her a chance to shove him away again, she was in his arms and his mouth was on hers. And she didn’t fight him or herself. No, she kissed him back as if she’d missed him as much as he’d missed her.

  Shit, he’d forgotten how fucking amazing she tasted. If anything, she tasted even better than the memories. He’d sampled what she could do with that exquisite mouth a few nights ago, but tonight she seemed more determined than before. Determined to make him break.

  And damned if he wouldn’t do that for her.

  He buried his hands in her hair, loosening the strands from the fancy up-do she’d styled it in for the show. He tried to stay still, to hold himself back from her, but she dug her hands into his back and pulled him closer. He groaned and rocked his hips against her, devouring her mouth. Shit, he was a dead man. All it took was a couple flicks of her tongue and he was lost.

  Finally, she jerked away from him and he collapsed against the wall. She swallowed and pressed her fingers to her swollen lips. “I…I have to go. It was nice seeing you again.”

  With a twitch of her ass, she was gone.

  And damned if he wasn’t going to chase after her…again.

  Chapter Six

  Morgan took a shaky breath and swiped her hair off her face. Okay, maybe that had been a bad idea. Kissing him again, then running. But he brought feelings out in her she didn’t like. And the best way to avoid those feelings was to avoid him. She couldn’t afford the distraction he was already proving to be. Just today, she’d gotten a callback for that audition she’d gone on Friday—the one she’d thought she’d blown. They wanted to see her again.

  They actually wanted to see her again.

  She’d tried out for a part in the touring Chicago musical and she hadn’t dared to dream they might like her. But they did. This was the first time in a long period she’d gotten a chance at a big break like this. Then again, that’s how performance work went—job opportunities were either feast or famine—especially since she was no longer in her late teens and early twenties.

  At twenty-five she was hardly old, but in dancing years she was starting to get on up there. Now was the time to seek out every opportunity and jump at the chance when it was offered.

  Heck, even tonight
she had filled in for someone else. She bartended at the Golden Hand sometimes when she needed the extra cash and Brianna knew she could dance. When Brianna had called and asked her to fill in, she’d leapt at the chance.

  But Mike had been sitting with Brianna in the booth with the rest of her friends and family…so that meant Brianna knew Mike somehow. How? She had no idea. But she knew one thing.

  This had trouble written all over it.

  After thinking things through, she went out to the bar and sat down. Her bartender buddy Hugh came over. They worked together fairly frequently and he’d always been nice to her. “You drinking tonight?”

  “Yeah. Definitely.”

  “You looked amazing up there,” Hugh said with a small smile. “Really good.”

  “Thanks.” Her cheeks heated up and she shifted on the stool.

  “What’ll it be tonight?”

  She nodded to the shelf behind him. “Make it vodka.”

  “Make that two.” Mike slid onto the barstool next to her, his mouth taut. “Why do you keep running away from me?”

  Because he scared her. Because he was the kind of man she could lose herself in. “Why do you keep chasing me?”

  “Damned if I fucking know.”

  “Fair enough.” The shots came, and she held hers up. “To constantly chasing women who don’t want to get caught?”

  His eyes darkened, and he leaned in to croon, “To catching you—which I will do. And you’ll like it.”

  Her heart stumbled at the utter certainty in his words. She didn’t doubt he could do exactly that with another woman—catch her. But he didn’t realize how much she didn’t want to get caught. She’d played the cat-and-mouse game in the past…even had allowed herself to get caught once or twice by men who’d insisted they weren’t threatened by her profession…but the outcome had always been the same: choosing between the guy and her dancing.

  As if there was a choice.

  There was a finite amount of time in a dancer’s career. After a certain age, the parts dried up. That meant she only had a few more years until her stage career was over. Kaput. The end.

 

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