Midnight Dream Girls 2: The Scent of Revenge Read online

  “Uh, okay. Am I in trouble?” She grinned, her hips pressing forward in an attempt to draw closer to him.

  With his hands on her hips, he pressed her back against the door. “Yep. Maybe I should punish you a little bit. Help you remember how to play nice next time.”

  “Will there be a next time?” she asked teasingly, again trying to press her hips closer to him.

  “Only if you want there to be.” He looked down at her, and she was shocked to see a worried frown on his face, his brown eyes obviously more than a little troubled.

  Staring up at him, she nodded slowly. “Yeah, I do. Several of them actually, if that works for you.”

  “As long as it’s only me, you can have as many of them as you damn well please. Starting right now.” He ducked his head to kiss her again, but not before she saw a broad grin stretch across his face.

  Breath, Morgan, she told herself as her heart pounded up into her throat. Then his teeth caught her bottom lip, and she lost all rational thought.

  He turned her around to face the cooler door again. Still pretty warm, the metal was a shock to her cheek. Then she felt Jonathan’s hands slide up over her breasts, fiddle with the leather thong tie, and suddenly her top was completely open.

  She gasped in surprise and more than a little fear. What if someone saw them?

  “Don’t worry, the crates are hiding us,” he murmured in her ear, then nibbled on her earlobe as his hot hands cupped her freed breasts, rubbing and rolling her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers.

  When his hands slid away from her breasts, allowing them to press against the cold metal of the cooler door, she gasped again at the shocking cold on her nipples, which instantly hardened into aching pebbles. She felt his hands at her waist and instinctively ground her hips against his fingers, and found herself pushed back against his cock again while he tugged her shorts down to mid-thigh, exposing her ass for him to massage.

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all damn day long today,” he grumbled, and she shivered with anticipation as she heard the rasp of his jeans zipper being opened. There was the rustle of tearing plastic, barely heard beneath the faraway noise of the bar’s cheering patrons and the pulsing music. Then his cock proudly jutted out, its sleek latex encased heat pressing between her ass cheeks. He bent his knees on either side of her legs, angling his cock against her pussy, then used a hand to tease her clit with its rounded head until she moaned.

  “I…I thought about you too,” she managed to reply as his cock stroked her clit over and over, slowly at first, then increasing in tempo. She reached back towards his hips, but he grabbed her wrists and pressed them back up over her head.

  Then his cock found the entrance to her pussy, and he thrust up into her, making her grind her teeth in an effort not to cry out with pleasure as he filled her perfectly with his hard heat.

  Slowly his grip on her wrists loosened and fell away, his arm wrapping around her waist so his free hand could stroke her clit while his other hand gripped her waist. Repeatedly he thrust into her, each time making her nipples rub against the cold metal, the friction increasing the chilly sensation on those pleasure points.

  Though she left her hands above her head, they fisted as a climax rolled through her body, forcing her hips to slam back against him. Moisture seeped out from the corners of her eyes as she tried not to scream out in passion.

  “Oh fuck,” he growled in her ear, pounded into her twice more, and came as well.

  Weak kneed, Morgan struggled to remain standing as her climax subsided, then discovered she was laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” he whispered, pressing slow kisses to her cheek as he slipped his cock out of her and removed the condom.

  Turning toward him, she arched an eyebrow and pulled her shorts back up into place. “Maybe I ought to sneak out on you more often, if this is the kind of punishment you’ll dish out.”

  “You’d better not,” he warned, bending over to give her a long kiss on the lips. “Or else my writing career will be down the tubes. I got absolutely nothing done today.”

  Smiling, Morgan glanced at his watch, then sighed and tied her top closed again. “My break time is up. I’ve gotta get back out there. Will you be here all evening?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be here,” Jonathan replied with a frown. “Someone’s gotta make sure those new uniforms of yours don’t get you mauled by the crowd.”

  * * * * *

  It was both thrilling and comforting to know that someone was watching over her and waiting for her shift to end. Thankfully Jonathan didn’t request any body shots that night, so Morgan was able to focus on serving drinks and performing with the other MDGs. A good thing, too, as Pamela was no longer the only one who seemed to watch her every move like a hawk waiting for her to make a mistake so she could swoop in for the kill. For some reason, both Pamela and Sammie, a tiny Asian looking MDG, seemed to be watching her all night long. She could’ve sworn that Sammie treated her just as warmly as everyone else during the steak dinner yesterday. What had she done wrong to tick off this dancer, too?

  Though she was used to being an outsider, she’d hoped that having proven herself for a week now would’ve earned a little trust from the other dancers. Apparently not. Sighing, Morgan helped clean up at the end of the night as usual, said goodnight to everyone, then found herself swooped into a tight hug just outside the front door that left her breathless. The light scent of beer, cologne, and a deeper undertone that was all Jonathan left her more than a little giddy.

  He gave her a long kiss that instantly had her pussy throbbing again, then set her on her feet with his usual lopsided grin.

  “So, your place or mine?” he asked, wrapping an arm around her waist as they walked through the shadowy parking lot.

  Smiling, Morgan looked up at him and opened her mouth to answer, then stopped abruptly as she remembered she hadn’t told Mrs. Myers she’d be late again tonight. And although the babysitter didn’t seem to mind what time she came to pick up Joey, she didn’t want to make a habit of not picking up her son by the time she said she would.

  “Um, I can’t tonight, Jonathan,” she replied, ducking her head and biting her lip. Damn, she should’ve been prepared for this, but she hadn’t honestly known if he’d want to see her again.

  “Why not?” His body stilled beside hers, and she could feel his gaze boring into her, waiting for her response.

  Shit. “Because…I have somewhere I have to be in a few minutes.” She took a deep breath, to try and steady herself. Then she let it out slowly and looked up at him. She really didn’t want to lie. Would he push the issue, or just drop it?

  Jonathan searched her face for who knew what. “Where do you need to be at three in the morning on a Thursday, Morgan?”

  Biting the inner corner of her lip, Morgan debated her options. She’d rather break the relationship off right now rather than build it on lies; she just didn’t operate that way. It was hard enough not telling her mother where she and Joey lived now, in the fear that her mother might try to serve her with papers demanding custody of the baby. And obviously, evading Jonathan’s questions wasn’t working. Plus, he was bound to grow even more suspicious the longer she tried to hide Joey’s existence from him.

  Well hell. Either he could accept her son, or he wasn’t the guy for her.

  “All right. There’s someone really important to me who you need to meet. Would you like to come back to my place?”

  “Yeah, I would,” Jonathan replied, no longer touching her, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows dipped low and brooding. No telling what he thought about her right now, though surely he had to know she wasn’t romantically involved with anyone else. Maybe she ought to just tell him about Joey…

  Before she could make up her mind, he’d walked her to her car, then walked off to his own just three spaces down.

  “I’ll follow you,” he said, his words clipped short, barely glancing at her over the hood of his sports car before he got in
.

  Sighing again, Morgan got into her car, put on her seatbelt, and led him to her apartment building. Trying to see the place from his point of view, she led him in silence up the three flights of metal stairs with their cracked, peeling, dingy cream paint. She and Jonathan continued down the hallway to her wooden apartment door with its own peeling layer of maroon paint, and Morgan couldn’t help but cringe. It was a far cry from the upper class hotel he’d led her to last night, and was certainly an even further cry from whatever home he lived in.

  His silence wasn’t helping relieve the strain growing at the base of her neck and shoulders, either. Jonathan was careful not to touch her, his quick roving eyes apparently missing no detail of their surroundings, and his jaw still had that hardened, clenched look.

  She unlocked her apartment door, cringing again when she realized how messy and small the place must look to him, with Joey’s toys all over the floor, her laptop and scattered, hastily scrawled notes taking up the entire surface of the kitchen’s tiny bar.

  “Uh, I really need a shower before you meet…him. Mind giving me a few minutes?” she asked, setting her keys on the scarred wooden coffee table that had come with the apartment’s used and gently abused furnishings.

  “Sure.” He eased down onto the rust colored couch, causing its springs to groan in protest. Instead of reclining, he sat at the edge of the cushion with his forearms resting on his knees, looking for all the world as if he were tempted to jump right back to his feet and run for his life.

  Morgan ducked into her room to grab a change of clothes, careful to leave the lights off so he wouldn’t see her tiny room, then hurried through the fastest shower of her life. She dressed in the bathroom, barely dried her hair, then emerged, sure he would be gone. But he remained just as she’d left him, perched tensely on the edge of the couch.

  “Okay, I’ll be right back.” She scooted past him, her stomach cramping into painful knots as she headed out the door and across the hallway.

  Jonathan surveyed Morgan’s home both during her shower and after she left, frowning as he realized the place seemed barely lived in, despite the used appearance of the furnishings. No artwork or photos decorated the walls or any surface within sight. The laptop, paperwork, and children’s toys were the only visible signs the place was inhabited. She couldn’t possibly have lived here very long, or surely she would’ve added touches of her own personality.

  The toys intrigued him. But then, maybe she babysat someone’s kids during the afternoons to supplement her income from the Midnight Saloon.

  His blood pumped at a furious rate, making him edgy; his movements, jerky. What was this all about? What was her big secret? Was she a hooker, and he was about to get a shakedown from her pimp? Surely not. Morgan didn’t seem at all to be the type of woman who would ever accept payment in return for sex. But she’d been so damn secretive.

  As the seconds stretched into minutes, Jonathan blew out his breath. What in hell was taking so long?

  Then the door opened, he leapt to his feet, she entered, and he got his answer in the form of the sleeping baby boy cuddled against her chest.

  “Jonathan, meet Joey. My son,” Morgan whispered, so nervous she was worried she might throw up.

  The look on Jonathan’s face did nothing to quell her fears. Stunned wasn’t the word for it. Blown away would be more apt. His mouth parted, a deep crease formed in his forehead as his eyebrows drew together, and his hands rose up to rest on his hips.

  Knowing that look all too well, since it was basically the same look of furious indignation she’d gotten from Joey’s father after announcing her pregnancy, Morgan sighed and walked to the center of the room, purposefully leaving the apartment door open.

  “Look, spare me the righteous anger act, okay?” she whispered, subconsciously swaying her hips from side to side rhythmically to help soothe the baby and hopefully keep him asleep. “You don’t have to act angry so you can storm out of here and out of our lives. I can handle the truth. You hate kids, hate babies, and don’t want to get involved with a woman who’s got one. That’s fine, I can deal with it.”

  She steeled her heart for his exit, pressing her lips together hard. She couldn’t meet his eyes, didn’t want to see the expression of fear or disgust on his face. She and Joey had been just fine before she’d met Jonathan, and they’d be just fine after he left. But she wished he’d hurry up and get the hell out. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep tears from slipping out of her eyes.

  Joey stirred against her, his little head lifting, and he looked blearily around. Damn, she must’ve held him too tightly or something. Or maybe her voice had awakened him. A whimper started within his torso. Then he opened his mouth and let out an angry yowl.

  Unsure whether to take care of him or get rid of Jonathan first, Morgan made a quieting noise in his ear and rubbed his back, hoping it would soothe him. But his yowl quickly turned into a full fledged wail.

  “Here,” Jonathan lifted the baby out of her arms before she had time to blink. Holding Joey against his broad chest, he walked over to turn off the room’s solitary lamp. Then he rubbed Joey’s back in slow gentle circles while singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star in a low murmur.

  Chapter Seven

  Within a minute, Joey’s cries died down. As Morgan’s eyes adjusted to the dim lighting from the nightlight in the bathroom, she heard the rhythmic creak of the floor beneath Jonathan’s feet as he walked in a gently bouncing circle around the living room, shuffling through the toys without once stumbling.

  She couldn’t help but watch this enormous man as he sang her son back to sleep. No one had ever reacted that way to Joey’s cries, not that she’d let any men close enough to meet the baby in the first place. But still, men couldn’t seem to stand hearing Joey fuss while she was grocery shopping. They always acted as if Joey was some kind of highly contagious disease they had to avoid at all costs.

  Yet here was Jonathan, singing her son a lullaby and holding him as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to do. She struggled to close her gaping mouth and stepped forward to take her son back.

  “No, don’t. You’ll wake him,” Jonathan whispered. “Where’s his crib?”

  Blinking more rapidly and swallowing thickly, Morgan led him to her bedroom where Joey’s crib was set up, then watched as he gently laid Joey down and covered him up with his baby blanket.

  They walked back toward the living room, and Morgan shut the bedroom door behind them as they left. In the living room, she suddenly didn’t know what to do with her hands or where to look. She definitely didn’t know what to say. So they could see, she turned on the lamp. Then she turned to face him across the room.

  “You must have kids of your own,” she suddenly blurted out, then studied her bare feet while she wondered where in the world that question had come from.

  “No. But my cousins have kids that come over to my parents’ home a lot. And I had a little sister I helped raise.”

  She chanced a glance his direction and noticed he had turned to face her. Bravely, her vision edged up his body until she could see his mouth, but she still couldn’t meet his eyes. What was he thinking? Feeling? What did he want?

  “Morgan, I’m not angry that you have a son,” he said with a sigh, his hands rising up to rest on his hips. “But I am angry that you waited ‘till now to tell me about it. Did you really think I’d run out of here because of him?”

  Morgan’s gaze fled down to the coffee table and her arms hugged her midsection. Damn, she hated confrontations like this! They never ended well. “Well, yeah. Most guys would. Why should you be any different?”

  She saw his legs and feet move toward her, drawing too close for comfort, bringing his warmth directly in front of her. He lifted her face by hooking one curved finger beneath her chin.

  “Hey, look at me,” he muttered.

  Taking in a deep breath, Morgan met his gaze and swallowed hard, barely aware she was trembling.

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nbsp; “Morgan, I’m not like most guys. I am different. And if you want to keep seeing me, you’re going to have to get used to that. All right?” His eyes, so dark a shade of brown they almost appeared black, gazed down at her without blinking.

  Morgan managed a nod, unable to look away as his face slowly drew closer to hers and tilted to the left. Her eyelids closed and she sighed through her nose as his lips pressed softly against hers. Then the tip of his tongue darted out to tease her lips open. His hands cupped her face, and blindly she reached up to grab his forearms, needing to hold his solid strength. She’d never needed anyone else to hold onto before, had always been just fine on her own two feet. Why his approval of Joey should matter so much was beyond her. But it did. His approval mattered very much.

  Her arms slid down to wrap around his waist and he pulled her closer to him. Then he walked her backwards. Her thoughts were foggy, and it took hearing the snap of the lamp switch to understand he’d moved them so he could turn it off. He walked them back over to the couch, never ending the kiss, only deepening it, his tongue delving and swirling within her mouth, his hands stroking her back, hips, and butt.

  “Mm, wait,” she said, a thought occurring to her. She hurried down the hallway to the bathroom, dug under the sink, and came back with a folded sheet which she opened and spread over the couch. While he sat down, she shoved the coffee table out of their way, then sank to her knees and helped him pull off his boots and socks.

  “My turn to have wet socks tonight,” he murmured, and she laughed quietly, not needing light to know he was smiling since it was apparent in his voice.

  She undressed him and watched him put on a condom from his wallet before he stretched out on the too short couch. Then she stood and slowly undressed for him, knowing he could barely see her in the nightlight’s yellow glow.

  “You’re so beautiful, Morgan,” he whispered, his voice sounding hoarse. He reached out, and she closed the short distance between them, straddling him before bending at the waist to kiss him.