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There's No Going Home (Book 1 of The Triad Series)

Chapter 1

Ethan

"Oh God! I'm coming!" The woman beneath me announced this as she bucked and jerked her hips.

I sighed and mentally rolled my eyes, quickening my pace, trying to catch my own release.

Twenty minutes later I was no closer to coming. Trying different positions, different angles, it was all for naught. It seemed nothing could soothe the deep ache in my balls. Balls that were threatening to get bluer by the minute.

"Ethan!" she cried as I slammed deep into her, cutting her voice off abruptly with a sharp intake of breath. Was her voice always this high-pitched and reedy? It was damned irritating.

"Shhhhhh..." I pretending to comfort her as she started whimpering softly.

What I really wanted to say was, "Shut the f**k up and just take this d**k!" But I wasn’t like that. Not really.

Her thighs started to quiver again and she helplessly gyrated her hips, trying to generate as much friction as possible. I felt her s*x clench around my length.

Christ – why was I even doing this again?

Oh. Right.

The answer came just when I closed my eyes, trying to block out sound and sight. I only wanted to feel, to touch, to taste. I sucked in a breath as I mentally replaced the girl beneath me with another. I pictured the reddish-chestnut waves that haunted my dreams to this day. The soft tresses that had brushed up against me so innocently when I was younger, that caused my hands to twitch with longing to plunge my fingers into the unending tangles.

My desperation to come caused my imagination to shift into overdrive as I pictured my sweet, pouty-lipped girl and gave into my fantasy with a moan.

I could feel her tanned, silky legs as they wrapped around my waist and I gazed longingly at the gentle curve of her bosom, completely uninterrupted until the pink rosebud of a n****e appeared. f**k. I swear I could see the buds stiffening and puckering as I plowed deeper with each thrust. The lovely angle of her neck to her jaw mesmerized me as I watched her pant with need.

The mere sight of it pushed me closer to the edge.

I dragged my eyes up to her luscious, pink, pouty lips. They were slightly parted and when I increased my speed, they widened in a light gasp.

I followed the smooth line of her jaw with my eyes and rested my gaze on the gentle shell of her ear, longing to suckle it, tease it, nibble on it. Her shadowed eyelids were hooded with desire and her raven lashes fluttered.

Her hair fanned out, framing her face. The low light of the room accentuated her hint of auburn undertones. Hair that I had dreamt of plunging my hands into for years. My c**k twitched and a slight 'V' formed above her brow as she concentrated on all the pleasure she was feeling – what I was giving to her. Finally. I felt myself stiffening further and a low guttural growl escaped my own lips as I tilted my head back, searching for my own summit. I looked down just as she gazed up at me. The 'V' in her forehead deepened as she breathed out my name.

"Ethan," she cooed in her sultry voice. It's almost my undoing.

"f**k, Callie," I moaned as I felt the coming waves of the climax I had been seeking surging toward me. I wanted that deadly undertow of delight to pull me in after her.

"Callie?"

Fuck.

My eyes sprang open as the soft, wet folds that enveloped me vanished and left me frustrated, my body once again denied it's release.

My blond leggy “date” had scooted back and disengaged from my shaft. "Who the f**k is Callie?" she exclaimed. "My name is Charlotte!"

Right. Charlotte. I knew that.

I looked down on the curvy nymph I had taken home from the club tonight on a whim. Her hair was a tangled mess. Half an inch of brown roots showed under her platinum mop, and the silicon injected lips which had called my name with such abandon earlier were now parted in hurt. She didn't even bother to dress as she grabbed her bra and panties from the floor and hobbled off on her too-high heels.

She cursed a blue streak as she left. I could only assume the flimsy strips of fabric that she considered "clothing" at the club had been peeled off somewhere outside my bedroom. There was no sign of them on the floor that I could see.

I was still rock hard as the ache in my groin had only deepened. I groaned, resigning myself to a world class case of blue balls. I collapsed back onto my rumpled sheets and stared at the ceiling.

Looking at the framed photo from my bedside table, I leaned over to pick it up. The girl in the photo had her hair pulled back in a plait that trailed down to her waist. She was smiling brightly up at the dirty blonde-haired boy whose arm was comfortably placed chummily over her shoulder. I sighed and placed the frame face down on the bed.

Perhaps if I am lucky I can rub one out before I expire from s****l frustration. However, if recent events were any indication, luck was not on my side.

I stood and stretched and went to turn on the water in the master bath. I set the water to cold.

Very cold.

"What the f**k is wrong with you, bro?" Emmett asked into his hands as he leaned forward, head between his knees, almost cackling in his amusement at me.

I had just finished telling him about my encounter with Charlotte. I knew he was biting back the majority of his mirth and it irritated the hell out of me.

I have omitted several facts about the woman behind my wet dreams. Calista Bormann was not only my s****l fantasy, but she was also my best friend and next-door neighbor growing up. After my parents' somewhat amicable divorce and the departure of not only my mother, Evelyn Reznick, and closest confidante and twin, Emmett, I had been lost.

A few months after my mother and brother had settled on the east coast, a large moving truck had hauled ass up the road and parked in front of the two-story house on the adjoining lot. The house itself had fallen into disrepair and the coat of paint, which looked to have been lacquered on somewhere in the 1800's, resembled the color of mildew and was chipping off in chunks the size of baseball mitts.

An SUV had followed not long after the moving truck, and a man emerged from the front seat. He was followed by a girl around my age with reddish brown braids that traveled to her waist. I watched in fascination as the girl waved at me before climbing the wobbly stairs to the wheezing front veranda.

I eventually found her name to be Callie, or Calista as her father called her at the time.

One day as I was kicking rocks back and forth in the backyard and brooding, I heard a small angelic voice call out to me.

"What are you doing?" she inquired.

"Kicking rocks. What's it look like, stupid?"

To my unwanted amusement, she shrugged.

"But why?" she asked, as if she genuinely wanted to know. It had been a while since anyone of any age had shown an interest in me after my brother left. I shrugged my shoulders and went back to kicking the rocks about. It was a pointless task, but it somehow made me feel better. The pretty little girl with the pouted lips tilted her head slightly and continued to watch me with fascination.

"Are you sad?"

I looked up sharply, but did not answer. Instead, I asked a question of my own. "What are you doing out here anyways with your Barbie? Don't'cha wanna play that in your house?"

Maybe I could be friends with her.

She dropped the offending doll and walked over to me and stated, "My daddy says I have to play outside since they are working on the-" she pouted her lips again and wrinkled a brow, thinking. "Imperior of the house."

I smiled for the first time in months at her verbal faux pas and decided I liked this new neighbor.

Over the years, Callie and I grew closer and became inseparable best friends. Or so I thought. I realized my feelings went much deeper when I saw her with her first official boyfriend, Dylan, a guy who had been asking her out for ages and she had snubbed for months. We were at a sweet 16 party for Callie's best girlfriend, Alex, when I went to use the bathroom after snarfing a can of Dr. Pepper out my nose on a dare. Typical teenage bullshit.

Callie had shown up holding hands with Dylan and a permanent scowl had settled on my face for the remainder of the night. I was walking towards the bathroom in the rear of the house when I saw a light on in the study to my left. I saw Dylan kissing Callie in the shadowy corner of the room and stopped dead in my tracks. I felt all the air leave my chest as I watched quietly as they kissed. After a few moments, Dylan's hand came up to Callie's left breast before she pushed it away. He brought it back up to her chest with more force and Callie once again batted at him, stopping the unwanted caress.

"Dylan, I said no!"

That was all I needed to hear. "The lady said no, Dylan."

I was stunned to hear the anger and wobble in my voice, as if I had been the offended party instead of Callie.

"Stay out of this, Reznick," he said and went back to assaulting Callie's mouth with his own.

I crossed the large room in about 4 strides and lifted the guy up by the collar, shoving him against the wall.

"Leave, asshole!" I tried to control my voice.

"Get the f**k off me, dude!" Dylan replied. I was gladdened to hear the panic in his voice.

Although Dylan had a good 5 inches on me, I didn’t waver. He was going through a growth spurt and looked gangly and physically awkward in his white collared shirt and almost too-short dockers, whereas I hadn't yet hit my full height of six foot three inches. I was one solid block of muscle from various sports so I knew I could take him any day. Easily.

And no one hurt Callie.

"If you don't leave, I'll make you leave." My voice rumbled from deep in my throat.

There must have been something in my eyes that told him I meant business, because he slumped over, defeated, and I pushed him out the door. I refrained from giving him a swift kick in the ass, but just barely.

I turned to Callie who was visibly shaking and had one lone tear rolling down her cheek silently. I rushed over and pulled her into my arms. "Are you ok?" I felt a strange warmth in my solar plexus that seemed to stretch across my chest and down to the base of my spine.

She nodded a few times and then crumpled onto my chest, letting loose a wave of tears that didn't stop for several minutes.

We didn't see Dylan for the rest of the party and I assumed he had crawled back into whatever slimy dwelling he called home.

Ever since the night of the party, I knew my feelings of friendship had been replaced by something new and foreign to me. Something I could never turn back from.

I was sitting on the sofa, waiting for my brother's laughter to die down with my head in my hands.

I was shaken. The enormity of my bedroom folly and the mortification of having told my brother was humiliating to say the least. Emmett, who had recently moved back to South Lake Tahoe to help with my new business venture, knew all about my obsession with Callie since my teen years. He knew I was disturbed and had come home early from his own date when he had a feeling something wasn't right with me.

Although my twin brother and I had been physically separated from each other for the past fourteen years, Emmett and I shared the sort of bond that no distance could sever. It was particularly evident when we were feeling any type of strong emotion Love, hate, anger. It rolled through us both ways.

After my father and mother separated, they decided that instead of taking it to court, they would hash out an agreement about what to do with us kids.

After weeks of lawyers and foul-mouthed threats, it was decided that I would stay with my father and my brother would move with my mother to the east coast.

But three thousand miles apart was not far enough to separate us. When Emmett broke his leg while climbing trees in the woods of upstate New York, I frantically urged my father to call my mother to inquire about him. When I found out my first girlfriend was cheating on me with the captain on the soccer team, Emmett left football practice suddenly to call me to find out what I was upset about. It was a two-way attachment, and although we had lived on two separate sides of the country for so long, when Emmett came back, it was as if he had never left. We were closer than ever.

My mortification complete, I stood up from the sofa, stretched, and headed into the bedroom to avoid any further jokes he might feel the need to dole out.

"Hey! Where you going, Ethan?" he called after me. Ignoring him, I made my way to the bedroom and decided to lay down and pretend the past 24 hours never happened.

Fat chance.

As I laid back on my bed, I wondered how I could explain the reasoning behind the misspeak. Ever since I had heard Callie was coming back from abroad after 4 long years in Italy, I thought of nothing – and no one – else. I tried everything – or should I say everyone – to try to rip her from my mind. But the spell she cast on me years ago was just as strong as ever – possibly stronger.

Her face was ingrained in my mind, from her silken chestnut curls to the tips of her dainty feet, she had a hold on me I couldn't explain away. It would be impossible to describe the grip she had on me to Emmett. He had left only weeks before she had first made her appearance, after all. He had never experienced what I had – puppy love to a crush, to a full-blown infatuation.

Maybe even something more now.

Chapter 2

Callie

"And just why did I let her convince me to go out?" I mumbled to myself.

My circadian rhythms were already out of whack from the long flight from Italy, but my best girlfriend, Alexandra Harper – or Alex – had convinced me to celebrate my homecoming in style. She wanted to take me to the new nightclub in town called Zeus. I thought the name pretentious, but apparently it was the new “it” spot for locals and tourists alike, and I didn't want to disappoint my friend by saying no.

"I literally have nothing to wear," I moaned, staring at the heap of discarded clothing on my bedroom floor. I don't know why I cared. It wasn't like I even wanted to go in the first place. I plopped down on the edge of my bed, giving up. I was clad only in white flowery underwear that would have even had my Nena thinking "granny panties", and a boring bra that screamed “librarian's assistant”.

"That's why you have me to rescue you." Alex exclaimed while entering my bedroom with a small bag in her left hand.

Huh. I hadn't even heard the doorbell. Damn that girl had some serious ninja skills.

I wrinkled a brow and gestured to the small plastic bag in her left hand. She held it up in her hand like it was the crown jewels, but it looked to me that she had brought her trash into my home to get disposed of.

"Didn't pay your garbage bill?" I asked as I gestured to the white bag she held in her hands.

"Good grief! No, girl!" Alex exclaimed as she rolled her eyes dramatically. Diva. She walked further into the room and took out a small piece of material on a hanger. It was obviously supposed to be some sort of outfit, but I almost laughed at that ludicrousness of that idea.

"What happened to the rest of it?" I smiled. "Trash compactor eat it? Or did the dog finally stop tearing up your dad's slippers and make the switch to gnawing on your clothing?"

Alex stepped further into the room and made an impatient huffing noise. "It's your outfit for tonight, you i***t!"

I opened my eyes wide in horror as I took in the scraps of dark silk that she claimed I would somehow be squeezing my ass into.

Did it even have enough material to cover my ass?

"No. Way." I replied firmly.

"Oh, come on! I saw it at the mall today and realized it was the same shade as your eyes. It was the only one left in stock and was exactly your size so I couldn't not buy it! I mean, I literally heard it calling your name!"

She had said the same to that purple and white bikini she got me for my 18th birthday. Right before I got knocked over by a wave and lost the top. If my name was humiliation, this was on point.

Alex looked hopefully at me as I groaned internally. I was too tired to argue and decided that if I fell flat on my ass and flashed my assets to all the world I would never forgive Alex. Ever.

"Fine," I conceded. Alex squealed in delight. "But if I end up flashing more than a smile, I am kicking you square in the cu-"

My phone notification went off. I lurched for the phone that sat on the edge of my bed and practically knocked it off onto the floor in my zeal. I looked at the screen in anticipation and quickly frowned. It was from my dad, telling me he would be home late from work.

Alex scrutinized my face and quirked up a perfectly shaped brow. "Expecting a call from someone?" she asked sardonically.

"No," I sighed, lying. Alex opened her hazel eyes wider, silently calling bullshit. "Well-" I started.

"Cal, you've been here less than 12 hours and he lives right next door. It doesn't mean anything that he hasn't called, and if you were so concerned, you should march your ass over there and let him give you a proper welcome." She waggled her eyes suggestively and I rolled my eyes at her again. I felt I had seen more of the back of my eyelids today than anything else. Between sleep and eyerolling, my lids could enter an ironman competition. Or ironwoman. I was really giving them a work out.

Alex was the only one who knew what I felt about Ethan. At least I thought so. He had grown from being my neighbor, to my best friend, to crush, to...well, whatever this feeling was that I had for him now. I had felt this way ever since the night of Alex's sweet 16 birthday party when my date's unwanted attentions had caused a bit of a scene in the study. That night he had held my trembling form in his arms and whispered words of comfort into my ear. A warmth had grown in my chest and it was all I could do not to look up and get lost in his eyes. If I had looked into those deep green eyes filled with concern for his BFF, I wouldn't have been able to resist his soft lips. I'm sure he had felt he had to be his best friend’s knight in shining armor, but the ache that grew in my chest afterward blossomed into something more. He spoke against my temple softly, the smell of Dr. Pepper enveloping and calming me. He was a total Dr. Pepper addict.

The more I saw of him after that, the less I saw him as just a friend and the more my heart ached when he was near. It was one of the reasons I had decided to study abroad. After high school I knew we would just part ways as we headed off to college. The more distance between me and his blonde hair, green eyes, and that deep dimple in his cheek, the better.

I stood up and made up my mind. I was going to yank the vision of his lovely face out of my head from the roots if it was the last thing I did.

"Let's do this." I said with firm nod of my head.

Alex had insisted I wear a smoky eye shadow and crimson lipstick and leave my wavy hair loose. I shrugged and brushed out my long locks until they shone. I smiled at the effect and admitted to myself that my hair was indeed my best physical attribute. It was a chestnut brown with some auburn thrown in with good effect. It flowed to my waist and probably covered more of my body than the scraps of cloth I begrudgingly wore.

I had to admit the outfit was stunning, but not my style at all. Alex tended to go for the flashy designer looks, the less material the better. But, if I was going follow through with “Operation Get Laid”, I needed to meet someone soon – preferably tonight. Not that I was loose. I had only had s*x with my ex-boyfriend Franco before, but not all nightclub hookups had to end in a one-night stand, right?

The material of the dress was thin and silky, covering my breasts with a cut-out in the midsection. The lower half of the dress came to mid-thigh, but there was a long slit up the left side that went up to my panty line. Panties that definitely weren't the granny style I had been wearing earlier. A bra – well, a bra wouldn't have fit under the material over my chest area.

I sighed and subconsciously pulled down the hem of my skirt to cover more leg. It was a fruitless gesture and Alex swatted at my hand away.

"Stop it!" she said and I looked up, startled. She sounded angry. "You have a beautiful body and now every lucky guy in the place will know it." Lowering her voice to a concerned murmur, she added. "Even if some asshole, who shall remain nameless, can't see it for himself." I sighed as my heart clenched uneasily.

I flushed but knew who she meant. My ex Franco and I had a…complicated relationship to say the least. I shook my shoulders and internally reminded myself that tonight was for fun. I was going to drink, dance with strange men, and hopefully yank my longing for Ethan out by the roots.

I fluffed up my hair a bit and added a layer of gloss over my red lips. I resisted the urge to pull the hem of the skirt down again and grabbed my silver beaded clutch in one hand as I said determinedly, "Alright. Let's blow this popsicle stand."

I was at the bar in the slinky indigo dress that Alex swore up and down matched my eyes. I fought the incessant urge to pull down the hem of my dress, knowing Alex had been shooting daggers at me from the dance floor whenever my hand twitched to the bottom hem of the skirt.

I order my third and, most likely, final cocktail. I was a lightweight when it came to hard liquor, and a third long island iced tea was probably pushing me past my limit – by a long shot.

The bartender looked at me strangely as I tilted my head unconsciously and pouted my lips.

"Are you sure, miss?" he asked inquisitively with a slight smirk on his roguish face.

I was puzzled and pushed my lips out even more, a habit I’d had since I was small that I subconsciously did whenever I was confused or inquisitive. Men had told me it was sexy, and even though I didn't do it on purpose, I was unable to curb the habit over the years. Alex said it was from being such a daddy's girl. One pout of my lips and my father caved in to my every whim – well, within reason. I certainly hadn’t gotten the pony I asked for on my 11th birthday and I doubted he would have allowed me to get a tramp stamp or take up skydiving, but the pout usually worked. It was a something I had started doing when my mother had died and had been unable to stop ever since.

My father was a huge mess at the time she passed. To get his attention, or just to make him smile, I would pout my lips and he always gave me a heartwarming smile and cave. I guess old habits died hard.

"Why?" I inquired of the bartender, who had a name tag in cursive that proclaimed his name was Adonis. I mentally rolled my eyes at the thought that anyone would name their child such and figured it was a sort of stage name to make all of the dreamy waitstaff seem even more desirable. Happy customers equaled more drinks and more time spent at this particular venue.

"Am I cut off for some reason?" I continued and the bartender smiled.

"No, sweet thing." he said with a panty-dropping purr of his deep baritone.

I straightened my head and consciously put forth the effort to not pout or tilt my head. Franco said he practically had to put out fires when I combined the two actions in a public setting.

Fuck him, I thought. I should have let the fires burn.

"Then what is the problem?" I asked. "I am over twenty-one. They carded me at the door but if you need to see my ID again then what is the point?" I stopped as he placed a fruity looking drink before me. It even had a little umbrella and was adorned by a slice of orange and 2 glistening maraschino cherries that matched the shade of lipstick I had decided on for the night.

Before I could speak, the bartender let out a short, loud laugh and said "From the gentleman -"

"Thanks, Trevor" said a deep, vaguely familiar voice behind me. Adonis indeed.

Adonis/Trevor scowled and turned to serve the next bar patron. I turned around to see who my admirer was, expecting some middle aged business man or boring accountant out on the town whose mind had looked at my outfit and thought “easy”. Damn that Alex. I should’ve worn a muumuu and not this scrap of-

I turned and met the eyes of my admirer and my heart literally stopped.

No!

My breath hitched in my throat as I saw the object of my lust (or affection – the jury was still out) standing in front of me with a saucy smirk, his hand rubbing along the 5 o'clock shadow on his jawline in a sexy way.

"Enjoying your drink?" he smirked even more, seeming to enjoy my discomfort.

Asshole.

I took a sip of the drink, but my taste buds had stopped working. "Yes, it's lovely." I murmured. I could have been drinking Valvoline and not cared. My heart sped up as I noticed his gaze flicker down to my lips. My breath caught as his tongue slid over his bottom lip in a slow, lazy way. His dancing green eyes darkened and he seemed to have to drag his gaze from my mouth back to own smoky rimmed orbs.

"Would you care to dance?" he asked. Without waiting for a response, he set my barely touched drink down and took me gently by the waist as he led me towards the dance floor. His hand grazed the naked flesh on my lower back and I shivered involuntarily. I internally swore as my own body betrayed me.

Stupid f*****g libido. I’m gonna kick its ass into next week one of these days.

Chapter 3

Emmett

I was at the bar with a couple of buddies from the resort when a flash of purplish-blue material caught the corner of my eye. I looked over towards the bar and saw…her. A pouty-faced brunette with long silken hair who seemed to unconsciously tug at her short, revealing skirt in a self-conscious way. The buxom blond next to her playfully swatted at the offending appendage, but quickly finished her cocktail and headed to the dance floor. The pouty-lipped angel turned away from me to face the bartender, Adonis. Ick.

Why couldn't they come up with better ideas than to nickname all their servers and bar staff after ancient Gods. It was-

Oh God.

My c**k twitched in my pants as the seductress c****d her hips to the left and her slim figure became clearer to me.

Being the complete Neanderthal I am, I thought, I must have her, and slowly walked towards the end of the bar, opposite the lithe temptress that was threatening to test the fabric of my pants with every twitch of her hips.

Earlier that day

Ethan was finally talking to me after an hour of stewing in his bedroom. What a p***y. In love with this Callie person, or whoever she was, and too afraid to admit it even to his own brother. I knew though. He didn't have to tell me. I could tell the depth of his feelings from our bond that she was something special to him. By the sudden slight warmth that came to my chest that was inexplicably and suddenly there, I could tell that he was still thinking of her. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, I'm heading out with Jamie and Adam to the club." I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively and Ethan finally laughed.

"Emmett, you are such a manwhore," he declared.

I shrugged and said, "Just because you’re too hung up on the girl next door doesn't mean someone else can't get some tonight." I didn't wait for his smartass response and walked out the front door still lightly chuckling.

I had been at the club with Adam and Jamie for about 45 minutes and Adam couldn't stop needling me about my love life.

"Come on, dude!" he joked. "You get more p***y than anyone I know. Let me at least live vicariously through you." He’d had way too many beers already and I rolled my eyes.

"You're like my brother," I said. "He called me a f*****g manwhore before I left the house today." Jamie laughed. He had known Ethan for a couple of years now and he knew it was just the type of thing that Ethan would say.

Jamie continued to laugh as he said, "I can't understand how twins could be so different. You're like two sides of the same coin," he said as he smiled and shook his head.

I was a bit irritated at my new friends. Yes, I liked to have a good time and, yes, I'd been dubbed a player, but I let every single date I had know exactly what this was. s*x only. I wasn't ready to commit to anyone. I knew both my brother and I were considered good looking. We both had dirty blonde hair and green eyes. We each had a single dimple in our cheeks, his on his left cheek and mine on my right. If smiling standing next to each other you might think we were mirror images. We were both fit, years of high school and college sports keeping us in top physical condition.

Where I was the “player”, though, Ethan was the hopeless romantic still searching for his soulmate. In fact, up until the past week, he was practically celibate. Ever since hearing that Callie would be returning home from abroad, Ethan had been in a frenzied state. He was worse than a nervous bride with cold feet the day of the wedding and had spent each night after work going to bars and clubs and ending up in bed with a different woman.

Was my libido contagious? The closer it got to Callie's impending return, the more harried and desperate Ethan had become. His hook-up last night was the last straw for him, I could tell. When I had invited him to the club with me tonight, he deferred saying he had some paperwork at the office to catch up on.

"Did you even hear me, man?" Jamie asked, smiling.

"Yeah, I heard ya. I was just thinking." I sighed.

Jamie's brow furrowed. "Is it Ethan?" he asked. "Is he still playing mattress mambo with anything with a snatch this week? All over that Italian chick?"

"I don't think she's Italian." I said leaning back on my chair. "She just went to school there." I shrugged, not caring less.

"Well," Adam said. "I think it's about time he got some finally." He took a sip of beer and continued. "And if having his crush come back home after 4 years spurs him into finally getting his d**k wet, well then, so be it."

I smiled and silently agreed.

After a few more beers and some light flirting with the fairer s*x, I was feeling slightly buzzed and excused myself to go to the bathroom. My back had been to the bar and although I really didn't feel the need to relieve myself, Adam and Jamie's constant ribbing me over my s*x life was starting to get on my last nerves.

I turned toward the bar and was about to head towards the restrooms in the rear of the club when I saw her. My chest became tight as I involuntarily leaned forward. In a daze, I started toward her when I thought better of it. I probably just wanted her. To f**k. That was all.

That foreign warmth invading my chest – which I figured had more to do with my consumption of alcohol than anything else – spread. But my breathing was uncharacteristically shallow and when she c****d her hips slightly, I felt myself harden.

"Excuse me," I told my friends again as I headed towards the end of the bar about 20 feet from the delectable beauty who had caught my eye.

Trevor Whitely, whose club name was Adonis, came over and asked, "Mr. Reznick, another beer?"

I wondered faintly why he called me that and figured he just couldn't figure out which twin I was.

I was the better looking one obviously.

I glanced from the girl to Trevor with some effort and cleared my throat. "Um, no. But I was wondering if you could mix your signature cocktail for that lovely lady over there in the purplish-blue dress."

"Sure, sir." he nodded, eyebrow raising. "Should I tell her it's from you?"

"No need for any names." I said, my eyes wandering over her exposed bare back which was a lovely tan color. No tan lines. I wondered if she sunbathed nude or if this was her natural skin tone. "I will be along directly." With some effort, I turned away and headed towards the men's room to take a leak.

By the time I got out of the bathroom, Trevor was setting down a fruity looking cocktail in front of the bewildered looking woman. I strode towards her, her back to me. Just as Trevor was explaining who the cocktail was from, he pointed in my direction and walked away.

She turned towards me, eyes widening. Her generous chest rose heavily and her breath came in short gasps as if caught unaware. She blinked and I looked at her lips with an almost palpable hunger. She had lovely legs and a tight waist. Her bosom was well rounded and generous, but not ridiculously so. Her lips were small and pouty, like a kewpie doll and painted a dazzling red. Her eyes were a lovely shade of bluish-purple that matched her dress, and her lovely locks seemed a deeper auburn under the club's lights.

"Enjoying your drink?" I asked.

As if prompted, she took a sip of the fruity mixture, her eyes not leaving my face.

"Yes, it's lovely," she murmured as my eyes dipped down to her mouth.

"Would you care to dance?" I smirked. She nodded slightly and I set her drink down for her. Leading her away from the bar I thought I felt her shiver a bit. I bit my lip as we made our way to the already crowded dance floor.

She danced a bit tentatively at first, as if she didn't do so often. Slowly she seemed to become more comfortable with me. I grabbed her waist as the fast dance song faded into a slower selection and brought her body to mine harshly, gripping her hips. She yelped lightly in surprise, but as we moved with the rhythm of the music, her hands relaxed on my shoulders and I took the opportunity to lightly grind against her. She gasped and looked up, surprised. I smoldered down at her and breathed against the skin on her forehead before pressing a light kiss on it. She shivered a bit but moved closer to me until our bodies were completely flush against each other. I bit back a groan as my throbbing c**k hardened further. I was amazed I had any blood left in my brain to function.

She stilled for a moment but kept moving with me to the rhythm of the music. I placed my lips to her ear and nibbled on the tender shell. I felt a vibration in my chest and realized she had sighed or moaned at my touch. As I nibbled a little harder on her ear, I felt her knees buckle a bit.

"Care to take this elsewhere?" I growled into her ear. She leaned back and looked into my eyes like I’d made her f*****g week. I felt like I could get lost in the pull of those deep wells as she nodded back at me. I pulled her body closer for a moment, drinking in her lovely vanilla scent and then separated us before I lost control and took her right there.

"Come," I demanded, watching as her cheeks bloomed roses. She was f*****g adorable.

We left the noise of the club and made our way to the taxi line where only two cars were waiting. It was still early in the night and most patrons wouldn't be leaving for a few hours. The cabbie in front nodded at us as we entered the vehicle. The woman, whom I hadn't bothered as of yet to get a name from, giggled as I pulled her into my arms in the backseat. It was a musical sound and the innocence of it had me stiffening further.

Once we were in the backseat, I brought my lips to hers as the cabbie asked, "Where to, sir?"

"Home, Bill." I said and he nodded, smirking. This was not the first time that Bill had taken me home early from the club this week, and he had an excellent memory. He pulled slowly into the traffic on the main road and maintained a safe speed, giving me ample time to kiss and tease my way down my lovely lady's throat.

This book is only in full on Dreame at this time. I will be putting it in paperback in the future, though it needs to go through some serious edits until I'm satisfied.