by Sam Crescent
Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2013 Sam Crescent
ISBN: 978-1-77130-407-8
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Karyn White
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
Thank you to my family for their constant support. Without them, I wouldn't be able to write.
DESIRE
Sam Crescent
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
Drake Johnson stared across the bar at the tantalising woman. She looked out of place with her long raven hair flowing around her and the small black dress covering her beautiful body. He’d never seen such beauty before. He spotted all the men intent on claiming her for the night. Sipping his drink, he kept his gaze on her every move. She ordered a martini with an olive. Her gaze went out toward the dance floor before returning to her drink.
Was she alone or waiting for a friend?
Glancing up at the glass partition where his partner and older brother stood, Drake raised his glass. His brother had spotted her as well. Evan Johnson tilted his head letting Drake know to approach the young lady in question. They were looking for a woman to share, and the black-headed woman would do just fine.
Moving toward the dance floor, Drake placed his empty glass on the counter waiting to be served. The barman, Dave, came over right away to serve him.
“It’s a busy night,” Dave said.
He smiled. Drake and Evan owned one of the best night clubs in the city. Desire catered to everyone, and they made it their business to make sure their customers paid for the best. Since they’d opened Desire five years ago their reputation had flourished and so, too, had their bank balance. He took a lot of pride in his business.
“Do you know anything on the female?” Drake asked, eyeing the woman in question. Dave glanced over only to shake his head.
“I’ve never seen her before. She looks like a newbie, but she can afford to drink. When you look at her you’ll see why. She doesn’t look a day older than twenty, and you’ve made it a point to only serve over twenty-ones.” Dave poured the expensive whiskey into the glass then added some ice. Drake would have preferred to drink his beverage without the ice, but he let the barman have his quirk. Watering down good whiskey was a damn shame.
When Dave got called away Drake made his move. He walked to the end of the bar where she sat on the stool twirling an olive in her drink. She looked bored, which made her more out of place because everyone else was having such a good time. He took the seat next to her and simply stared.
Her hair fell down around her face obscuring her from view. He noticed her hands looked soft and delicate as she twirled the stick in her glass.
Sipping his drink he waited for her to turn to him. After several minutes passed without acknowledgement Drake decided to make the first move.
“What brings such a nice girl here?” he asked. It wasn’t one of his finest lines admittedly.
She turned toward him, and Drake was struck by the startling blue of her eyes. He stared into her depths feeling like he saw the ocean for the first time. She gazed up and down the length of his body then turned away from him.
Her dismissal of him pissed him off.
“I take it you’re a girl who can’t take a compliment,” he said, refusing to be ignored.
“I can take a compliment, but I’d rather take it from a man who doesn’t compliment every woman he meets.” She flicked her hair off her shoulder then turned to glare at him.
His cock went instantly hard. The attitude on display made him hard as rock with the need to tame her. Drake chuckled before moving closer to her.
“I admire beautiful women. Last time I checked that wasn’t a crime.”
“Tell me, Mr Johnson, do you remember every woman you meet?” she asked.
He frowned. “I seem to be at an impasse. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
She chuckled, and the sound thickened his cock further. The woman stood, throwing down a note on the table. “You know my name. Your only problem is you don’t remember it.”
The woman in question made her way across the dance floor and then out of the main reception area. Drake didn’t bother looking up at his brother to see what to do. He was intrigued to find out who the mystery woman was.
Downing the last of his whiskey he followed the path she’d taken. She stood outside waiting for a taxi. The cool air nipped at him as he walked down the steps. The queue of people outside the door cheered at him.
She turned to look at him, then rolled her eyes before lifting her hand to hail a taxi.
“Tell me who you are,” he said.
The woman ignored him again. Grabbing her raised hand he pulled her off to the side away from prying ears.
“Let go of me,” she said, pulling on her hand until he freed her.
Drake let her hand go but trapped her between the wall and his hard body. “I’m not letting you go until you tell me what’s going on. I don’t know you, and yet you’re treating me like the worst person in the world.”
Her coat opened, revealing a body to die for with her full round tits heaving under the tight bodice of her dress. If he ever found the designer of the dress he’d congratulate them. The dress in question moulded to each curve. She possessed wonderfully full breasts and large hips that flared out from a smaller waist. Drake wanted to feel those naked curves against his hands.
“You can’t do it. You can’t even talk to me without checking me out. I can’t believe I even bothered coming here. There are plenty of clubs with much better owners.”
She attempted to brush past him. Drake stopped her with his palm against her waist.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asked.
“Put your claws away and tell me what I’ve done to you. I see the judgement in your eyes, and I don’t like it. Tell me your name.”
“Wendy Peterson, that’s my name.”
Drake took a step back as he looked at her. He recognised the name and understood her looks. When he’d met her over six years ago when he and his brother were looking for the right place to build Desire, the Petersons had owned the land and had a shop on the premises. When the guy wouldn’t sell the property he and Evan had gone to their lawyers and made sure there was little choice but to sell.
He recalled watching the shop close and the occupants being forced to leave. The woman before him had been a teenager at the time. Never in all of his years did he think he’d be looking at the woman in question.
****
Wendy saw the recognition on his face. The small satisfaction she possessed wilted at the sight of his arrogance. For the last six years she’d listened to her father’s anger about this man. She despised him and his brother on principal. He didn’t deserve the land or the club. After listening to her father’s tirade earlier in the day curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she’d decided to take the trip to Desire.
For over twenty years her father had owned that building, and to see his life’s work being treated in such a way hurt her deeply. They’d taken her father’s land and built a monstrosity.
“I see you remember who I am,” she said. Her anger rose along with her desire. The man before her was a lot sexier than she remembered. The last time she’d met him she’d heard the argume
nt with her father. She’d looked at him through the banister of her stairwell.
His blond hair looked even more startling, especially as he kept the length down to his neck. The urge to run her fingers through the length was strong. Wendy kept her hands by her sides at all times. She needed to show restraint, as otherwise she’d lose all common sense along with her mind. She glanced down the length of his body. The heavy suit did little to hide the hard masculine body. He looked firm and hard to the touch. She wondered if he felt as hot as he looked.
Shaking her head, she glanced over his shoulder to see a taxi waiting by the kerb.
“I need to go. My taxi is here, and I’ve seen enough.”
His hand moved to the side of her head trapping her against the wall. Fisting her hands at her side in an attempt to stem the urge from touching him, Wendy settled for glaring at him instead.
“I want you to come upstairs with me. You’re in no state to be going home. You’re wound up tighter than anything, and I want to talk to you away from all of these people.” He gestured to the queue of people at the entrance of the club.
“No, I don’t think I should. I don’t trust you. I want to go home.” Coming here had been a huge mistake and one she wouldn’t repeat.
Brushing past him she moved toward the taxi. She gave the driver of the taxi her address then settled back. Drake Johnson stood by the kerb with his hands in his pockets watching her drive away.
She tried with all of her might not to look back. She failed. Looking out of the rear view window she saw Drake hadn’t left the kerb. He continued to look back as the driver rounded the corner taking her far away from him.
Settling back in her seat, she let out a breath to try to calm her nerves. Her hands shook as she held onto her purse.
Wendy should never have gone to Desire. Part of her hated the club for what it had done to her father while another part craved the promise the club possessed. Watching the dancers on the floor and the customers had created a yearning deep inside her heart. For so long she’d been forced to have her head in a book or forced to listen to her father’s tirades.
No more. She wouldn’t be forced to listen to him.
She hated what Drake and Evan Johnson had done to her father, but she didn’t see why she needed to spend the rest of her life feeling guilty for not helping the situation. Her father constantly talked about the, ifs and buts of life, saying if only she’d been old enough at the time of the buyout to help him. She was tired of feeling guilty about something she held little control over.
When the driver pulled up outside her apartment building she paid him cash then got out. She made her way to the door and unlocked the first door before making her way up to her floor. She lived on the top floor of the apartment building. Her long-time friend and roommate, Tiffany Sanders, sat on the sofa eating ice-cream while painting her nails.
“You’re back early. I thought you’d stay for a drink or something. Maybe even get laid by a smoking hot guy,” Tiffany said without turning around.
“How do you know it’s me? I’ve not said a word.” Wendy closed the door then made her way over to the spare chair.
“I heard you sigh. That sigh holds a great many secrets and a lot of other stuff, too. What’s up with my little bumpkin?” Tiffany turned the television down then gave Wendy her full attention.
“I went. I saw, and I gained the attention of Drake Johnson.”
“Oh, the owner and the devil himself. Spill the details, woman. I’m painting my toe nails and eating ice-cream. It’s that time of the month, and you need to help a desperate woman out.” Tiffany threw a cushion at her.
Wendy caught the cushion pressing it to her chest. “I don’t know what to say. Drake’s smoking hot, but I didn’t feel anything bad about the club. Yes, it hurt to see what had happened to my old home, but people move on, right? I think it’s horrid that my father still rants and raves about it. Seeing it now that I’m older, I don’t know. Maybe it’s my time of the month soon.”
Her friend frowned at her. “You know, none of what you just said made sense to me. Are you happy about the club or sad?”
“I don’t know.” Wendy glanced down at her hands. Her arms were covered in goose-bumps from the memory of Drake’s touch.
“Drake made a lasting impression, did he?” Tiffany stared at her breasts. Glancing down Wendy saw her nipples were rock hard. Covering her breasts, she threw the pillow back at Tiffany.
“Hey, watch the feet.”
Chuckling, Wendy moved toward the kitchen to make a drink. “I stayed long enough to get carded and drink two martinis.”
“Wow, be adventurous.”
She rolled her eyes at her friend’s mocking laughter. Two martinis, to her, was a lot of alcohol. Look what had happened to her sensibilities with regards to the enemy. Going to Desire had been a huge mistake and one she wouldn’t be repeating anytime soon.
Chapter Two
Evan stood watching over the club while waiting for his brother to return. He’d spotted the raven-haired woman the moment she entered Desire. The shot of lust had shocked him. It had been months since any woman appealed to him enough to take home and fuck. At the sight of his brother moving through the crowded club alone a wave of disappointment swept through him. He’d been looking forward to tasting her and exploring her full curves.
Turning away from the display of sexual heat Evan downed his drink then sat behind his desk. Minutes later Drake walked through the door. His three years younger brother looked calm and collected.
“Where is the woman?” he asked.
“Does the name Peterson ring a bell?”
He tensed at the name. The name Peterson rang more than one fucking bell in his mind. Evan never thought he’d hear that name again. “What’s that old bastard got to do with anything?”
Drake flopped down in the chair opposite. “That’s his daughter.”
Another wave of disappointment clung to him. He couldn’t believe that Ronald Peterson could be responsible for bringing such an attractive woman into the world. The few choice meetings with the man had stuck in Evan’s mind.
“What was she doing here?” Evan asked, moving some paperwork into his desk drawer. Desire was a thriving business, unlike the atrocity that Peterson had kept trying to work.
Evan and Drake had offered the man a great price for the land and building, but he’d refused all of their offers. The man was losing business and fast. If it hadn’t been for their generosity his daughter would have never made it to college.
“It looked like she was checking out the place. I imagine her father is still painting us as the bad guys.”
“Even though our inheritance put her through college,” Evan said. He and Drake had taken the time to figure out what and how to invest their parents’ money. Their mother wouldn’t have liked the club, but their father would have loved it. He smiled thinking about their parents’ responses.
“That looks like a good thought,” Drake said.
“I’m thinking about our mom. I doubt she’d like the place. I imagine she’d be proud of what we’ve achieved.” Evan closed the drawer to his desk.
“She’d be happy that we’re happy. What should we do about Wendy?”
Evan sat back running a finger across his lip in contemplation. “There’s not a lot we can do.” He saw the look in Drake’s eyes. The possessive look shone deep in his gaze.
“You want her. I know you do because I want her.” Ever since they’d hit their twenties, Drake and Evan had possessed a mutual desire for the same woman. They were both attracted to the same woman and had admitted the truth to each other.
Sharing a woman fired Evan’s blood more than it did making money. He loved watching a woman come apart in his brother’s arms. The need to watch and be watched was a part of him like breathing.
“We move on. I’m not going to force a woman to come to us. She’ll probably never come to the club again.”
Even as he said the words Evan h
ated the feeling inside his chest.
“Whatever, I’m going home. I’ll leave you here to deal with the business side. I need my beauty sleep.” Drake tapped the desk then made his way out of the office. When the door closed behind his brother Evan slumped back in his seat. Staring at the phone he forced himself not to pick it up.
He didn’t understand the need coursing through his veins. Wendy Peterson wasn’t part of his life. She shouldn’t be having such an effect on him. Tapping his leg, he stared at the phone while thinking about her. He’d watched her sit at the bar. Her hands had rested out on the counter waiting to be served.
The dark look on her face let him know she held a great deal of secrets in her mind. Her body was meant for pleasure. Desire, the name of his club and the images filling his mind, fit her perfectly.
Just from looking at her, he saw her on her knees before him ready to service his cock. Closing his eyes, he allowed the images to take control. He saw her spread over his desk waiting for him to lick her hot little pussy.
Picking up the phone he dialled Mason’s number. Mason Gibson was a man he could trust. His friend had many contacts with reliable sources.
“Hello, how can I help you?” Mason asked the moment he lifted the phone.
Evan chuckled. “Why do you have to make it sound like a sexual promise?”
“Evan Johnson, it has been a long time. Why do I have to make it full of sex? Because that is what I’m about, sex.”
Running a hand down his face Evan stared across at the closed door.
“I take it this call is not a social call?”
“No, it’s not a social call. I need you to do something for me.”
“Whatever you need, Evan. Let me grab a pen. Right, let me have what you want,” Mason said.