30 Days (Morgan Family Series Book 1) (6 page)

“You look tired.” I give Blake an annoyed look. “Have you been getting enough sleep? Is this case too much for you? I can take over if you want.”

“Nice try.”

Truth is, I hadn’t been getting much sleep the past three weeks, but she doesn’t need to know that.
Or why.

Memphis and I have a good routine going. She comes over after work. We fuck. She goes home.
Every night.
The fucking is great. The nervous signs she originally showed are gone. I think I’m opening her up to a side of herself she didn’t know existed.

“Rhys is coming home this weekend. Said he’d be here in a few hours. What are you guys doing?” she asks.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that. I know all about the strip club trip. He says everyone is going back again.” she pries.

“Not me.”

“Is it because of that woman at the burger place?” “What woman?”

“Seriously, Cameron. The one you danced with. Don’t play stupid. Is she your new bae?”

“I don’t have a bae. Don’t even know her.” I deadpan. “Don’t you have work to

do?”

She doesn’t leave. She picks up her phone and starts scrolling through it. “That’s why I came in here. Almost forgot. The Barr Association dinner is

Sunday night. I need to know if you’ll be attending and if you’ll be bringing a guest.”

“Is dad going?”

“He is who asked me if you were going, so yes. You know everyone at the firm will be attending and bringing a guest. It’s practically mandatory. Don’t try to skip out.”

“Fine.” I huff. “Put me down for a plus one.” She keeps scrolling in her phone.               “You can go now.”

She rolls her eyes before exiting my office. I pick up my phone and find Memphis in my contacts. I wonder how she’d feel about going shopping for a nice dress? I send her a text telling her to come to my office.

I’m working on the Beasley murder case when Mrs. Simmons, the receptionist, shows Memphis in. I come around my desk to greet her. She drops her purse to the floor and pulls me to her. Her lips crash against mine. In between kisses and unbuttoning my shirt, she starts talking.

“You have to be quick. I got called in early to work the bar before my shift.” I laugh against her lips and tell her to slow down. “This is what you called me here for, right?”

“Actually, no.”

“Oh.” Her expression is both confused and a little disappointed. I fight back a smile. I don’t want her to be disappointed that I didn’t call her for sex. That would

mean that she expected me to call her for sex.
She shouldn’t expect it. She shouldn’t expect me to call her at all.

Once this realization occurs to me, I decide not to tell her about the dinner.

She might get the wrong idea.

“Nevermind. It’s not important.” I tell her and she frowns.

“Are you sure?” she asks, picking up her purse.

“Yeah. It’s nothing.”

I sit back down in my chair and start unbuckling my pants. Her gaze flashes down to my hands and she watches me free my hardening cock. I look down at it and then back at her. To solidify what our arrangement is, I pull an asshole move. I almost regret it the moment it’s out of my mouth.
Almost.

“Suck my dick before you go.”

I text Anniston back and tell her I’m using the song she sent me.
I always do.
I also tell her if she worried about her grades as much as she worried about finding me stage songs, she’d be a straight A student. She sends me a sad face emoji.

“My college boy is back tonight.” Leah brags. “I think I’d fuck him for free.” I stifle a grin.

“Guess who’s with him?” Stacy smiles. “The hottie from Big Ben’s.”

“Really.” I deadpan.
Shit.

Honestly, it annoys me that Cameron came here tonight. He was a total ass to me earlier today. He treated me like trash.
He treated me like a whore.
Which in all honesty, is what I am to him. Just because he’s Cameron Morgan doesn’t mean he should treat me that way.
God, I should’ve known he’d be one of the names in Morgan, Quinley, and Sloan.

“Maybe he’ll get a private dance.” she adds. “Then a private fuck.” Leah chimes in.

“Don’t think so.” I say, annoyed.

He’s been getting plenty of that. Every day he calls me and tells me to come over. Every night I show up at his apartment after my shift. I undress in the elevator and we fuck. He pushes my limits more than I thought I could handle. I’m starting to crave his hand smacking my ass, his dirty commands, his bites to my nipples.
I’m starting to crave him.

Then today, he reminded me what I was to him.
A whore.
Meant to pleasure him.
That’s it.

I look in the mirror and make sure everything is perfect with my red wig tonight. I’ve worn the blonde and brunette wig the past couple of weeks. I’m back to red tonight.
Suits my mood.

I’m wearing a sexy white negligee and sheer white bra and panties underneath. I hear my name announced and I walk onto the stage. “Pillow Talk” starts and I mentally thank Anniston for finding me great songs.
Even though she should be studying.

The sexy slow beat is easy to grind and roll my hips to. The lyrics are dirty and sexy.
The men love it.
I dip and roll, slowly exposing my skin until I see some cash being thrown out. I toss the negligee to the side of the stage. I do all the tricks, rub my breasts together, touch myself. Anything I can do to get the money on the stage.

When I see Cameron watching me, I avoid his stare.
This isn’t about him right now. For once, it’s about me.
I finish my dance and pick my money up off the stage. I go back to the dressing room and put my money away. I put my bra and negligee back on before heading back out.

I go to my designated area and start walking around. My job is to be available to anyone interested in a private dance. Talk to the men. Make them feel comfortable.
Make them feel wanted.

I’m also to inform waitresses of any tables that have empty drinks and to even ask men if they want to order drinks. The more the men drink, the more money they
spend.

I see Isla in my area and annoyance overwhelms me. I slowly approach her and the table of men she’s talking to. I kindly wrap my arm around her waist and ask the gentlemen to excuse us a moment.

“I know Vincent has talked with you. I’m doing you a favor by telling you this.

You’re in my area. Your area stops two tables over. Please be respectful of the other women that work here. We’re all trying to make a living.”

“I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.” she apologizes. I don’t really care if it’s genuine or not, but she goes back to her area. That’s all that matters to me.

I go back to the table and ask if any of the men need anything. One of them wants a private dance.

When we’re done, I come back and go back to working the floor. I hear whistling and catcalling. I look towards the table it’s coming from and nearly groan.
Cameron.
He’s sitting silently while his friends are calling me over.

“Hi, gentleman. I’m Amber. Do you need anything?” I ask, politely. “How much for a private dance?” one of them asks.

“It’s one hundred dollars.” I answer. I keep my gaze coolly fixed on the man in front of me. I can feel Cameron’s eyes on me, but I don’t let my gaze waver.

“Go with her.” the man says, nudging his friend. “Right this way.”

As I turn, I glance down at Cameron and his jaw is clenched in anger. I’m tempted to offer the man another dancer, but I don’t. This is my job and what Cameron and I are doing is just a job too.
I’m getting paid for both.

I watch Memphis walk away with Weston and anger rages through me. I knew I shouldn’t have come here tonight. I toss back the drink in front of me and try to focus on something else. I can’t think of him being back there with her.
Her ass moving against him. Her touching her tits in front of him.

“Maybe I should just ask for her.” Rhys comments. He anxiously looks around the room, fiddling his thumbs. He’s not his usual laid back self. He’s seems jumpy. On high alert.

I roll my eyes. “Quit being a pussy about a fucking stripper. She probably doesn’t even remember you.”

“Oh, she remembers me. Trust me.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Go ask for her then.”

He keeps looking around the room, but doesn’t make a move to go ask for the woman he’s here for.

“I’m going home.”

“You’re a buzzkill.” he gripes. “Hey, Weston’s coming back.”

“Fuck me! That was great!” he brags, the alcohol in his system allowing him to loosen up from his normal shy self. “She is…oh my God…I thought I was gonna nut in my pants.”

Rhys laughs, but I feel myself narrowing my eyes at him. Before I do something stupid, I turn and walk away. I go to the bar and order a shot of tequila. I down it and order another.

“Can’t find a waitress! Table twelve wants shots of tequila!”

I don’t look over at her. I know I should just go home and wait for her to come to me.
That’s what I should do.

“I want a private dance.”

“I’m working.” she bites out. She takes the tray of drinks and I watch her deliver them to a table.

I go to her and tell her again that I want a private dance. She huffs, grabs my hand, and then walks towards the private area. I follow her into the empty room and close the door behind me. She stands beside the pole with her arms crossed.

“Can anyone see us?” I ask.

“I would have to turn the cameras off.” “Turn them off.” She doesn’t move. “Please.”

She makes me wait a couple more minutes before she goes to the door and presses a few buttons on the keypad.

“I’m not dancing for you.” she informs me. “You were a complete ass earlier.”

I stalk towards her and she holds her ground. Her arms are crossed over the soft silk of the negligee. I can see the sheer material of her bra peeking out of the top.

“I want to take you to a special dinner Sunday night.” I confess. Her brows furrow. “I’ll have to buy you a nice dress. Can I do that?”

“I…um…”

“Consider it part of your job, Memphis.”

I don’t let her answer. I brush my lips over hers and start backing her towards the wall. Her hands rest on my chest. I tug the straps of her negligee down and kiss her nipples through the sheer material.

“Did you like dancing for my friend?” I ask. Her response is a moan. “Did

you?”

“No, Cameron.”

I suck her nipple to a hard peak through the material and then bite it, making

her gasp. I fumble in my wallet for a condom. She doesn’t tell me to stop.
I knew she wouldn’t.
I unbuckle my pants and shove them and my boxers to the floor.

“Did he make you wet?” I ask, teasing her core through her panties. “No…” she gasps.

I tear open the foil packet and sheath myself. I lift Memphis in my arms and brace her against the wall. I pull her panties to the side and part her folds with the head of my dick.

“Are you wet now?” I ask her. She doesn’t respond. “Are you wet for me, Memphis?”

“Yes, Cameron. I’m wet now.” she whispers.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Memphis?” I ask against her lips. She gazes into my eyes, trying to refuse to answer me. I ask her a second time, pushing just the head of my dick inside her warmth.

“Yes, please. Please fuck me, Cameron.”

I ease into her, cupping her ass with my hands.

“This is my pussy for a little while longer.” I inform her, plunging deep. “I don’t want anyone else near it.”

“Okay.” she mumbles. “Faster… go faster.”

I rock into her, picking up speed. She tightens her legs around me and moans my name as she comes.

“Fuck!” I come hard moments after, slamming her hard against the wall. She doesn’t complain.
She doesn’t say a word.
I breathe heavily against her lips as she stares at me. I lower her to the floor without giving her any answers that her searching eyes are looking for.

I pull the condom off and as gross as it is, tie it and shove it into my pocket. I see the smirk on her face. I laugh a little as we both head to the door.

“No need to come by after your shift. I’ll call you tomorrow about dress shopping.”