Stud Muffin

by Lauren Landish

  A cheer goes up from the crowd as Nathan and I slice through the ribbon, and the two of us lead the VIPs up the stairs and through the doors. It’s been awhile since I’ve been here. I’ve been so busy setting up my place here in town and getting things settled with my transition to Franklin Consolidated. But seeing it like this, I have to give it to the architects. The place is a dream, with the perfect blend of classic touches that I like along with cutting-edge lighting and styling. It’s going to be a unique club for a very long time.

  I check out the bar and the stage, then head to the VIP section overlooking the club just as the doormen start letting in the regular customers.

  “This club is amazing,” one of the first women through the doors says to Nathan as she comes up to where we are. She’s going around and checking everything out I guess.

  By the look in Nathan’s eyes, I don’t think he’d be opposed to taking her home tonight. “Thank you. My partner here helped, of course. But all the heavy lifting was on me,” he says to her.

  I smirk. Nathan’s going to take the credit, huh? “Well, I let you do the heavy lifting since you’re closer to the floor. Less distance to move.”

  The girl chuckles, but Nathan’s undeterred. “You know what they say, big things come in small packages. And you’re right, having three legs to stand on helps.”

  I have to chuckle. Nathan is an outrageous flirt, and it works. The girl’s eyes flicker down to his crotch before she smiles. Nathan pats the seat on the couch next to him, and she sits down, making me shake my head. He’s going to have a fun night.

  “Champagne, sir,” the waitress says, handing me a glass. She’s wearing a form-fitting blouse, a damn near painted-on skirt, and is even some wearing some thick-rimmed glasses, totally playing up the naughty professional vibe of the night. But she’s as professional as can be, just like we instructed all of our employees.

  It was one of the things I insisted on. While I know Nathan would love to sample what some of the girls could offer him, I won’t allow it on my watch. I want to set an example for Sophie, and that means showing her that I can treat my employees with respect. I can be a gentleman. And I want my employees acting with respect too.

  “So how much do you think we’ll clear tonight?” I ask, getting down to business. One of the local celebs comes up, shaking hands. I return the favor, sending over a bottle of Kristal as thanks for coming by.

  “You send more bottles like that? We might break even,” Nathan laughs. “We’re doing just fine, man. I’ll check with the manager before we leave tonight. He’ll get me an estimate. But remember, tonight isn’t about turning profit. It’s about getting rep. We get rep now, and we make bank later.”

  We chat for another forty-five minutes or so, and I’m amazed as the club fills up. There’s no way the folks still outside are getting in for hours unless they’ve got a reservation.

  “Great turnout!” Nathan crows, loving the flow of people still coming through the doors. It’s fun, and best of all, authentic.

  “It is,” I murmur. I have to say even I’m impressed. “It’s a weight off my chest . . .”

  My voice trails off as I see her walk in. She stands out in the crowd of mostly whites and blacks in a fire engine red dress that hugs her body like it was custom made for her. Long brown hair frames her angelic face, and while I’m too far away to see her eyes, her lips are perfect. The way her cheekbones are shaped, she looks like . . . “An Angel.”

  “What?” Nathan asks, but I barely hear him as I watch her breathlessly. She goes over to the bar with a girl who’s obviously her friend or wingman, and a thread of anger courses through my head as I see some guy come up on her. I grip my glass harder as I see him laying on the moves, even though she doesn’t seem too into it.

  Nathan waves his hand in front of my face. “Yo, Jake, are you listening to me?”

  I blink rapidly, shaking my head as I turn back to him. “Huh?”

  “I said this place is going to change our lives.”

  “Hold that thought,” I say, my eyes and my mind on one thing only. I toss back the rest of my glass and get to my feet, heading for the stairs. As I leave the VIP area, I’m not thinking about Nathan, or money, or even how well our grand opening is going to turn out tonight. All I can see is the angel in a red dress.

  Chapter 3

  Roxy

  “So, how about we go back to my place?” the guy asks for the second time. Is ‘no thanks’ somehow going to change in three minutes?

  I try to hold back my annoyed scowl. Go back to his place? I’m about ready to splash my untouched beer in his fucking face. I’ve turned him down for a dance. He’s not that bad-looking. I’m sure he could find some girl in here, even with his creepy ass vibe. Why the fuck’s he still here with me?

  I look around and see that Hannah’s deserted me. I can see her over on the dance floor, twerking her ass up against some cute dude. I’m certain he’s about five minutes from blowing a load in his slacks with the way she’s moving.

  I look back over just in time to see Dr. Strangelove pushing the bottle closer to me, like he’s trying to remind me that it’s there and force me to drink it, but he’s gotta learn that there’s a lot of scrap in this little body. “Drink up,” he says.

  That’s it. I just can't with this guy.

  I open my mouth to finally tell the guy to fuck off. I’ve been overly polite and have made it perfectly clear that I don’t want what he’s selling. But before the words can leave my lips, a penetrating voice behind me speaks up. “Everything okay, Angel? Sorry I’m late. I was busy upstairs.”

  I spin in my seat to get a look at the voice and my heart stops. Seriously, I might need a defibrillator to get it back beating again as the breath leaves my lungs. I take in the purest blue eyes I’ve ever seen under dark hair that glimmers and sparkles as the lights of the club catch deep within it. His chiseled jawline frames a sensual mouth, and it’s hard to pull my eyes away from his gaze and take the rest of him in.

  He’s tall and broad-shouldered, his custom-tailored suit fitting him perfectly.

  Fuck being a heartthrob. He’s a heartstopper. That’s what this guy is.

  My mouth opens like a fish, but Mr. Heartstopper winks at me and I’m able to brush off my momentary shock enough to play along. “No, honey, I was just having him warm your seat for you until you got back from that little curb stomp appointment.” I flash a smile, not letting the nervousness I feel flicker through. I turn and give Dr. Strangelove a pointed look. “Does that guy still have all of his front teeth?”

  My former creepy-ass suitor scowls, and for a moment, I fear he’s about ready to fight for his seat. But when Mr. Heartstopper gives him a hard look, he gets up from his seat, mumbles something, and disappears in the crowd.

  Relief flows through me and some of the tension leaves my body when I can’t see his face anymore. The music thrums, mixing with my heartbeat as I look at my savior, and I feel like this night’s going to change my life. The stage is almost prepared for the main act, a rock band that’s hot on the charts and has a fresh sound. I’ve been looking forward to it, but now I have another sweet distraction.

  Trying to shake off my anxiety, I poke the guy playfully in the chest. “You got a blue leotard under there?”

  He arches an eyebrow at me, confused but with a grin on his face. Fuck, he’s hot. “No, why?”

  “The way you showed up and saved me from that creep, you must be Superman,” I joke. “I’m wondering where you keep the red cape.”

  He chuckles, taking the seat next to me. “Nope, not Superman, but I have to admit to being called the man of steel a few times in my life.”

  I arch an eyebrow. “Modest much?” Looking at him and his cut physique, though, I don’t doubt him. That suit can only hide so much of his body.

  “You asked what I had under my suit. I was just telling you. Being real, you know?” His eyes twinkle, and something tells me he’s biting back a joke. I can’t help it, I
smile. I like a man who can keep up with my sense of humor.

  But the other half of my mind is dirty enough to know what he’s talking about. He has balls of steel and a huge, throbbing, steely cock. Fuck, we haven’t even introduced ourselves and I’m already getting hot.

  “So what’s your name then, Superman?” I ask.

  He chuckles as if he’s unused to a woman being so direct with him. “Jake,” he says. “How about you, Angel?”

  “Roxy,” I say. I love the way he calls me Angel, even though I feel like anything but right now. Angel definitely sounds better than horny succubus. “And before you ask, yes, I rock hard.”

  He laughs. “Cheeky, aren’t you? I like the name. It’s cute.”

  “Why not sexy? Or hot? I like that better than cute.”

  “I’d say you have all three covered,” he growls lightly, sitting next to me. “I can think of a few more words to describe you too.”

  A flush comes to my cheeks at his compliment and I’m momentarily robbed of speech. This guy’s a silver-tongued devil, and he’s got a voice that seems to heat my body every time he speaks.

  He nods at my beer. “I don’t peg you for a Bud Light girl.”

  I recover and shake my head, making a face. “I’m not—haven’t touched it. I don’t really like beer.”

  He grabs the bottle and sets it in front of him and signals one of the waitresses. “Let’s get something new for the lady!”

  She comes over and gives him a look like she’d love to take him out back and ride him like a cowgirl. I know Jake has to be used to it though. The man’s probably a player. Then again, maybe that’s what I need tonight—a man who knows what he’s got, knows how to use it, and knows how to make me scream to the heavens. “Something in particular?”

  He turns to me, giving me a wink. “She’d like a Sex On My Face.”

  I gawk, shocked at his forwardness, but the waitress doesn’t even bat an eye. And in my mind's eye, I can see myself grinding all over those sexy lips of his. My face turns red at the thought and I push it away. For now. “Of course, sir.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I say, trusting that I was just ordered a drink and not a room at the Holiday Inn.

  “Nonsense, you’ve got to try it,” Jake says with a laugh. “It’s one of the house specials.”

  His persuasive charm just wins me over. The waitress brings back the drink, and at first I think it looks like an iced tea. I take a sip, my eyes widening. “This is good!”

  He winks at me. “Told you. Take it slow. I’ve heard that they can hit hard.” He takes the beer and sniffs it, then turns it up, drinking about half of it. “So, how’d you hear about the club?”

  “My friend Hannah,” I say, pointing her out on the floor. “She told me about it. I needed a night out to relax and have some fun.”

  And I need a man like you to take care of a certain need, I think to myself.

  Jake nods. “Well, you picked the right place. Even for opening night, it’s not over the top. This place has class.”

  “You’re telling me,” I agree. I think it’ll be what makes Club Jasmine popular for a long time. They could pack this place and tear the dance floor up, sure. But the building’s got enough inherent class and charm that it’ll be a chill spot too. “What about you? What brings you here?”

  A slight smirk comes to one of his lips. “I’m friends with one of the owners.”

  I stare at him as I take a sip of the delicious drink. It’s something else he’s not letting on to, but honestly, I don’t give a fuck. I didn't come here to learn his life history. And I damn sure don’t care about his friend. I just can’t get over how handsome he is. Those lips look like they could do damage between my legs, and the more I see them move, the more I want to feel them pressed against mine.

  He asks me more questions about myself, but I can barely hear or find the focus to answer. I can only focus on his perfect smile. The more he talks, the more I feel like I want him. Even if it is only for a night.

  I finish my drink in a hungry gulp and lick my lips in the most seductive manner I can. Damn, I don’t know if that drink was seriously that good or if literally anything would taste amazing right now.

  “I was thinking . . .” I say, running my hand along his arm. Shit, I’m playing the seductress to the hilt. I even have my next line planned, something about how I’d like to have a little more sex . . . on his face.

  He raises a brow at me, and anxiety twists my stomach as I look into his eyes. I’m suddenly uncertain. He has to get more pussy than animal control. My ego can’t take a hit right now.

  But looking around the room, I realize one thing. He’s the only one I want. If I can’t have Jake, I’m going home alone.

  I suck in a breath. Fuck it—you only live once.

  “Look, would you like to go somewhere?” I cringe. I know I must sound so fucking desperate, like some slutty skank. But isn’t that what I came here for? I’m hot and heavy and this guy is doing crazy things to my ovaries just by sitting next to me. I need him.

  He turns, looking me in the eye. “Direct, aren’t we? I can’t imagine an angel like you . . .”

  I’m shocked when he seems to steel himself. He turns the bottle up and in one gulp drinks the rest, smacking it down on the bar, and growls almost ferally. “Let’s go.”

  He gets up from the seat and I jump to my feet. He puts his hand on the small of my back as he leads me to the back of the club. “Where are we going?”

  “Told you, I know the owners. There are . . . private places around here,” he says, and I dismiss it. Fuck, I don’t care if he takes me into the VIP bathroom. I’ll take it right now.

  The show is about to start for the band. I’m gonna miss it but I don’t care. He takes me through a door and into a hallway. We come up to another door, and like magic, he produces a key to get in. Before I can ask him why he has a key, he’s on me like a dog in heat, pushing me up against the wall and devouring my mouth in a hungry, fiery kiss.

  Our lips crash together, and he’s doing crazy things to my body, his hands roaming over my dress and lighting my skin on fire.

  “Take me,” I moan, my thighs trembling with need. Ten long months. And if that huge, hard cock pressing against my thigh is any indication, I want it right fucking now.

  “Not here,” he half-moans, half-slurs in lust, stepping back and taking me by the hand. He leads me down the darkened hall to a room. He opens the door and turns on the light. It’s a medium-sized room with a bed and some rugs in the center. What the fuck is a bed doing back here?

  But I don’t care about that. I want him.

  He’s back on me again, and we’re kissing, his hands tugging on my dress. With every inch of my skin that’s exposed, the fire in my stomach grows as I feel all the sexual frustration start to boil over.

  “I’m gonna give you a night to remember,” I growl in his ear as I pull off his shirt. “You’ll never forget Roxy.”

  Damn, call the exorcist. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like the devil himself has possessed my body.

  I rip off his shirt with an animalistic snarl. The air freezes in my lungs when I see the hard abs of his stomach. He wasn’t fucking lying about being the man of steel. The rest of him has to be pure perfection.

  “Your tits are amaaazing,” he says, his slur growing, his hands squeezing my breast weakly.

  What the fuck? Damn, how is he drunk already? He only had that one beer. I pay it no mind. I push him back onto the bed, tugging my skirt up to my waist and mounting his hips, feeling the hard bulge of his groin rub against my panties.

  “Fuuuuuck, baby,” he moans. His voice is sluggish. “I love how aggressive youuuu are . . .”

  “Shh, baby,” I tell him, slipping my dress down and showing him my breasts, turning my dress into just a band around my waist. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

  I swear it looks like he’s fighting to stay awake. But I don’t need long to send him to h
eaven. I trail my hands down his abs and down to his happy trail. Reaching his belt, I hungrily unbutton his pants.

  “Baaaby . . .” he moans, almost like he’s gasping for air. I take the gasps as if he can't wait to be inside me. Fuck, I can’t either.

  I get his pants down and am about to pull his cock out and slide on a condom when he grabs onto my breasts with the force of Zeus. He holds tight and lets out an unearthly gasp, his eyes fluttering.

  I stare down at him in shock as he takes one last breath and then seems to go unconscious.

  “What the fuck?” I know I was about to give him the most glorious send-off he ever had, but did he really just pass out? “Hello?”

  It takes some effort, but I’m able to disengage his death grip from my breasts. They ache, and I wonder if I’m going to have a few bruises on them tomorrow. “Hello?” I repeat, leaning in closer. “Jake?”

  I shake him, and when he doesn’t respond, I give him a little slap on the face. He doesn’t move at all, and fear starts to clench in my belly.

  Hands shaking, I place my hand on the side of his neck. I don’t feel anything, and I’m getting more worried. What the fuck?

  My heart pounds in my chest as I stare down at him in disbelief.

  The Man of Steel is dead.

  Want to read the rest? Get Heartstopper HERE.

  Super Sneak Peek: Mr. Fixit

  by Lauren Landish

  Cassie

  The blistering midsummer heat envelopes me as I step outside with a glass of cold water in my hand. Immediately, the humidity makes my thin cotton tank top cling to my body even before I’m halfway down the steps.

  “I get it, I get it,” I mutter to myself, “I’ve been such a bad girl that I have to spend the summer living next door to the gates of hell. Doesn’t mean you have to throw in the mugginess too.”

  At least the weather’s good for one thing, I think as I feel a droplet of sweat trickle down the back of my thighs. I can barely stand to wear anything at all, so I’ve spent most of the past few days in nothing but crop tops and Daisy Dukes. Sure, I might be looking just a tad bit skanky, but I think I can pull it off. And it’s done wonders for my tan.