Midnight Dream Girls 2: The Scent of Revenge Page 7

  “Morgan…” he sighed out, unable to tear his gaze away from her face and the way she looked up at him while her mouth took in every inch of his dick until its head pressed the back of her throat. He felt her tongue reach forward to tease his balls, then slither backwards from side to side towards the head of his knob. “Oh baby…” he moaned, then let his head fall back and his eyes close as she sucked him in and out of her mouth in a slow tempo that had his heart racing crazily.

  After only a few strokes of her mouth, he knew he was going to come soon if he didn’t do something. And he badly needed to be inside her when he came.

  Pulling his hips back, he bent over to kiss her, easing her onto on the bed at the same time until his body covered her every curve. Her legs immediately parted and wrapped around his waist, allowing his cock to press her pussy. He shifted until it rested against her clit and moist folds, then buried his face against her neck so he could fill his nose with her lavender scent and feel her breasts crushed against his chest.

  But he couldn’t stay there long. Something about her drove all ideas of finesse from his mind, left him raw and unpolished, like an untried teenager instead of a thirty-two year old man with years of experience in the bedroom. He’d wanted to kiss her entire body, to know that every inch of her skin had been claimed by his mouth. But he couldn’t hold off any longer. He needed her to surround him.

  Angling his hips, he braced himself on one arm and used his free hand to guide his cock to her pussy’s entrance. Taking in a deep breath in one last effort to steady himself, he eased into her tightness inch by inch, his head arching back and his teeth gritted with the effort to maintain control. Sweet lord, she was hot around his dick. He felt her warmth spreading over his entire body until perspiration formed on his skin.

  “Play with yourself,” he practically begged her, desperate that she come with him so his climax wouldn’t be a thing of selfishness. There was no way he was going to last much longer. And he had no idea why, either, since it had taken him a hell of a lot longer to come with any other lover he’d had.

  Surprised at his request, Morgan took a guess as to how he wanted her to play with herself. She started to warn him that she was already ready to come again, that having his cock fill her mouth earlier and seeing his passion for her laid bare without reservation had turned her on too much. He made her feel so damn sexy, so strong and able to give him such pleasure. Then when he’d slid his cock into her pussy so slowly and she’d realized they were a perfect fit, she’d struggled not to both cry and climax simultaneously. Forget her dream lover; here was her perfect fantasy man.

  Stroking her clit, Morgan tried not to come too quickly. But within seconds her hips bucked beneath him, begging him without words for more.

  “Jonathan, I…baby, I’m gonna come,” she gasped out, her other hand gripping his ass and relishing the feel of his muscles flexing and releasing beneath her palm as he pumped his cock in and out of her.

  She closed her eyes, feeling the gathering rush of the climax hurtling towards her like a tidal wave that would surely drown her. Then his mouth captured hers, his tongue stroking within her mouth to match his dick pumping within her pussy, and she came at last, lost to the glorious ecstasy that took over her body, had her begging, pleading, promising she didn’t know what if only he wouldn’t stop. Unable to help herself, her fingers gripped his ass, urging him to fuck her harder, faster.

  As the blinding rush began to fade within her, she heard him groaning with his own climax and felt like the most powerful woman of the world, albeit a rather exhausted one.

  Suddenly it was hard to draw a full breath as his broad chest sank down over her own, covering her with a heavy, hard weight as he bent his head to kiss the side of her neck. She turned her head sideways so she could breathe, found her face even with the outside of his shoulder, and kissed the rounded muscle at the top of his arm. Slipping her arms around his waist, she gently stroked his sweat slicked back, liking how the hard muscles rippled and bunched beneath her touch. Who needed to breathe when they could die covered with such sexy manliness? She chuckled to herself as she envisioned the headlines…Woman Fucked to Death by Studly Lover.

  “Damn, sorry,” he swore on a growl in her ear, then braced his upper body weight on his forearms on either side of her.

  Unable to help herself, she took in a long breath and grinned at him.

  “Why didn’t you say I was crushing you to death?” he muttered with an embarrassed grin. Then he nuzzled her nose with his.

  “I would’ve…if I could’ve breathed,” she whispered just before he kissed her softly, stealing her breath away again.

  Lifting his head, he chuckled and rolled off her. Instantly his strong arm wrapped around her waist, turned her back to him, and pulled her up against his body into a spoon position. The sensation of his warmth along her entire backside, his knees tucked behind hers and his warm breath fanning over the side of her neck, made her feel weak and shaky. Damn, it had been too long since she’d been held.

  “Morgan, what the hell are you doing to me?” he whispered in her ear, his fingers brushing her hair back off her forehead. “What is it about you that turns me into a fumbling idiot?”

  Smiling, Morgan sighed and closed her eyes, soaking up the moment as much as she could. She knew it couldn’t last, that she’d have to leave soon so she could get home and pick up Joey. Despite Mrs. Myers’ reassurances, Morgan knew she could be only so late before the older woman would grow worried about her.

  She wrapped her arms over Jonathan’s, liking the sensation of his holding her right breast within his large hand and the feel of his forearm muscles beneath her fingertips. Sighing again in utter contentment, she relaxed and listened to his breathing, ragged and quick at first, gradually slow and smooth out like the rhythmic sound of ocean waves in her ear.

  After what seemed like an hour of mentally drifting in sated happiness, Morgan carefully turned the back of his wrist up toward her so she could peek at his watch. The room was too dark to read it, though, so she slowly lifted her head and looked around until she spotted the red glowing letters of a digital clock on the nightstand beside her. Yep, it was time to go.

  Chapter Six

  Easing out from under the dead weight of Jonathan’s muscular arm, Morgan slid to the edge of the bed, then rose to her feet by incremental degrees in an effort not to wake him. She took her time getting dressed, enjoying the sight of his nude body curled on its side and his strong jaw line softened in sleep. Damn, she hated to leave him.

  Sighing, Morgan finished dressing, opting to carry her wet socks in her hand and wear her boots barefooted. With one last lingering look at Jonathan, she slipped out of the hotel room, down the hallway and out the back exit through which they’d entered earlier, and across the parking lot to her car. Then she headed back to her apartment for a quick shower.

  She was still towel drying her hair when Mrs. Myers answered her door without Joey in her arms.

  “Sorry I’m so late,” Morgan whispered, flipping the wet towel over her shoulder. Its dampness immediately began to seep into her T-shirt.

  With a grunt, Mrs. Myers walked back into her dark apartment with a head jerk, which seemed to indicate that Morgan should follow her. So she did, following the older woman’s faded housecoat through the apartment’s semi-darkness down a hallway past the glow of several cheap nightlights. Just like Morgan’s, the hallway had one door on the right leading to a closet sized bathroom, and a door on the left that led to a slightly larger bedroom, which was also lit with the muted glow of a nightlight on one wall.

  She was a bit surprised to see that the room consisted of a collapsible playpen in addition to a narrow bed. Bending over the crib, she found her son peacefully sprawled on his back atop a thick comforter that had been smoothly folded over a couple of times to form a soft makeshift mattress.

  “I had this from when my grandbabies used to come visit me,” Mrs. Myers whispered, her gravelly voice sound a
bit defensive as she jerked her head towards the playpen. “So I cleaned it up real nice for your Joey baby.”

  “Thank you, it looks like he appreciates it,” Morgan whispered back. She bent over, carefully lifted her son, and nestled his long frame against the shoulder opposite her wet towel. Joey didn’t even whimper, apparently already used to being shifted around during the predawn hours. He just buried his tiny little nose into the crook of her neck and went back to sleep, reminding her of a certain other sleeping male she’d just left snoozing alone in a hotel room across town.

  Morgan followed Mrs. Myers back into the living room, appreciating the clean, lemon fresh smell of the kitchen they passed, as well as how the apartment held no cluttering knickknacks that might pose a safety hazard to a curious, exploring baby. At the door, Mrs. Myers picked up Joey’s diaper bag from the couch, handed it to Morgan, then crossed her arms over her chest and sniffed.

  “You know, I already heard that you’re working at that saloon with those bar dancers. You don’t have to try and hide the smell of that place from me by taking showers every time you come here and pick up the Joey baby.”

  Morgan stared at the woman’s lined face, its expression so evidently disapproving of her, and shook her head. “Mrs. Myers, I’m not trying to hide anything from you. I just like the way Joey smells, and didn’t want that bar smell on my baby.” Not really caring what the woman thought of her explanation, Morgan carried her son out the door. But a rough hand grabbed her shoulder.

  When she looked back, the older woman’s face had softened, looking merely sad without its usual sternness. “I understand, child. We can’t always choose what we’ve got to do to provide for our babies. So don’t you worry about paying me again until you get your next check. You been paying me every week, but I heard that bar don’t pay but twice a month. So you just pay me when you can, okay? Now you two go on and get you some sleep now, and I’ll see your Joey baby tomorrow evening just like usual.”

  Morgan nodded with a quick mumble of thanks and turned her head away to hide her suddenly tear filled eyes. Lord, how she missed her momma right now.

  * * * * *

  Jonathan woke up smiling, reached for Morgan, and his day went straight to hell.

  At first he’d figured she was in the bathroom, maybe soaking in the tub or whatever it was women did in the bathroom that ate up so much time. But when the bathroom proved to be empty and he noticed her belongings were gone, Jonathan was more than a little ticked off.

  Why in hell had she snuck out on him?

  It wasn’t like he didn’t know where to find her every night from Wednesday through Saturday. True, he didn’t have her phone number or address, but that was easily enough rectified. Grabbing a phone book from the drawer of the nightstand, he thumbed through the F section looking for her name. But it wasn’t listed, and a 411 call didn’t have her listed anywhere, either. What the fuck?

  Steaming at his inability to call her and ask her why she’d snuck out on him, Jonathan booted up his laptop and tried to get some work done. But he just couldn’t focus.

  Had the sex been lousy for her? Granted, he’d rushed through some of the foreplay, too turned on to think straight around her for some reason. But he distinctively remembered her climaxing against his mouth, the thought of which only served to remind him of how good she’d tasted and how sexy she’d sounded crying out his name. And lord, how they’d fit together, like two jigsaw puzzle pieces, like a hand within a custom fitted glove, like…

  She’d driven him to thinking in fucking clichés.

  Knowing he’d get no decent writing done like this, Jonathan decided to go for a punishing swim in the hotel pool while he stewed about the situation. While in the midst of his twelfth lap down the length of the pool, he suddenly stopped and stood up. Why the hell was he mad about her leaving without waking him up?

  He’d always done the same thing to his one-night flings, slipping out while they lay asleep to avoid the morning issues that would be sure to come. How could he give a woman his number or promise to see her again, when he didn’t even know where he’d be the following evening? It wasn’t unusual for his vampire tracking to lead him cross-continent at a moment’s notice. What kind of promises could he possibly keep with a life like this?

  So why should it bother him that Morgan had pulled his usual routine? She’d only saved him from having to make false promises or excuses.

  Swimming across the deep end of the pool to the side, he used the cement edge to do a few sets of pull-ups facing the blue tiled wall as well as with his back to it, followed by underwater sit-ups with his legs draped over the pool’s edge. Yet still his mind wouldn’t let go of his frustration and anger at Morgan’s disappearing act. Why should it matter if she left him?

  Because he wanted more than a one-night stand with her.

  The thought slammed into him with enough force to expel the air from his lungs. Well hell. Now what was he supposed to do?

  After spending an hour in the hotel’s weight room to further punish his traitorous body for wanting Morgan again, Jonathan came to only one possible solution to his new problem. He’d track her down tonight at the Midnight Saloon, find out why she’d left him, then…

  He sighed, realizing he had no clue as to how to start a lasting relationship with this woman. Well, she was a woman. Maybe she could figure it out for the both of them. That is, if Morgan even wanted a lasting relationship. Considering the way she’d left him with no goodbye or a note with her phone number, he wasn’t sure she wanted to see him again at all.

  * * * * *

  When he walked into the Midnight Saloon that night, he felt like Joe the bouncer must’ve punched him in the stomach or something. Forgetting to breathe, he just stared as a certain dark haired beauty in black leather chaps, tiny silver shorts that barely covered the cheeks of her ass, and a black leather halter top open down her entire front save for a leather thong tied between her breasts, danced and twirled on the bar above the crowd.

  “Holy shit,” he breathed. Apparently the Midnight Dream Girls had gotten new uniforms. With an unblinking stare, he watched every enticing move she made. He was ready to break the necks of the guys at whom she briefly smiled, until the song ended and she climbed down from the bar.

  They really needed to talk. He hoped they would actually get to speak to each other before his damn cock’s demands sucked all the blood from his brain. He could barely form a coherent thought as it was.

  Morgan asked Brianna for her first fifteen minute break of the night. The bar was overheated, its air conditioning unit unable to keep up with the combination of the wall-to-wall crowd and the early summer heat wave outside. Drenched in sweat, she desperately needed some way to cool down. Of course, the beer cooler, she thought and headed in that direction.

  In the darkness of the short hallway, she almost ran into a stack of wooden crates someone had left. The stack reached close to the ceiling and was so wide it took up half the hallway. It would be a bitch trying to get past it while fetching more beer later in the evening when they ran out at the bar, as they invariably did. She’d have to ask Joe to move the crates out into the alleyway. But first…

  She pressed her face and damp stomach against the cold metal door of the cooler and sighed with relief. Oh hell yeah, this was much better. The new black leather MDG uniforms might look sexy as hell, but they were hot as hell, too. Thank goodness the leather pants were only chaps and were completely open over the upper portion of her thighs, crotch, and rear end. The spandex shorts she wore beneath them could be easily pulled on and off for bathroom breaks without having to peel the leather chaps up and down her legs.

  Morgan pushed away from the door, then found herself pressed back against it by a tall, hard body behind her. She gasped in momentary fear.

  “Hello, Houdini,” Jonathan muttered in her ear, his hands slipping around her waist so his fingers could spread out over her abs.

  A thrill rippled through her, making her d
uck her head to hide her grin. “Houdini?”

  “Yeah. After that disappearing act you pulled this morning, I thought the name fit you.” She felt his mouth and nose slide over the back of her head as his hips pressed against her ass.

  “Sorry. I…had to go. Why, did you miss me or something?”

  He barked out a laugh. He lifted her hands and pressed them to the cold metal over her head, holding them there with one hand while his other roved down the sides of her ribs, tickling her into laughter.

  “Yeah, you could say that.” Sighing in her ear, Jonathan slid a hand beneath the loose front of her shirt to squeeze her breasts. “You know, it was awfully rude of you to not leave me your phone number. Unless you didn’t intend to see me again?”

  She felt him grow still while waiting for her response, and was both surprised and pleased to discover that her answer might matter to him. “Sure, I wouldn’t mind seeing you again. I figured you knew where I worked, though, so I’d leave it up to you. Don’t you guys usually like to be the ones in control?” She laughed softly to let him know she was teasing, but her laughter was cut short when she felt the unmistakable bulge of his hard cock pressed against the thin spandex barrier over her butt.

  “Personally, I prefer an equal partnership. But right at this moment…” He spun her around and kissed her hard, almost angrily, his lips quickly softening over hers as if she were just as quickly forgiven. Moaning, she wrapped her arms around him, dug her fingers into his curly hair, and pulled him closer.

  She sensed him nudging her sideways toward the cooler door’s hinges near the hallway wall. The tower of crates threw them into shadow.

  “Next time,” Jonathan growled against her throat, “Try to remember your manners and either wake me up to tell me goodbye, or at least leave a damn note.”