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Sara licked her dry lips. Casey blinked—twice, perhaps
the action done only to settle his nerves. She could see the tremor in his
jaw-line. The tiny twitch at the side of his mouth to state he was holding
himself back. The angle his lips were set at, warning her of what might happen
if she dared push him into action. The darkening of the eyes to prove he was
worthy of his stature.

Sara could not blink. Had she, she would have lost his
image, and that would’ve complicated her life more than it was going to be.

Casey moved his hand to her lower back and pulled her
even closer. His searing breath fanned her lips as he said, “You’re not doing
the pole,” a half second before his mouth found hers like a heat-seeking
missile, locking firmly onto its target.

Sara got lost in the unexpected kiss. Surreal, she was
unsure if Casey started it, or if her brain had told her head to lean forward
and initiate the act. Either way it became one hell of a kiss. Her eyes closed
as his tongue battled hers. Her hands wound around his muscular neck, as his
fingers dug into her spine. She could feel the tense muscles at the base of his
skull, the erratic heartbeat inside the core of this man.

Casey’s coiled readiness should have made her wary. It
did the exact opposite.

Then, the on-start of a small smile pressed against
her lips. If kissing her in this way, sensual and passionate, one would think
he wouldn’t be smiling about it.

Sara’s eyes opened. She watched in horror as that slow
smile lit up his eyes.

A sudden sting of regret caught her by surprise.

Sara snapped out of his embrace.
Damnit.
Guilt
was not what she wanted, and yet every fiber of her being had come alive by a
very sensual kiss.

 The last time this happened, she’d been left
heartbroken and alone. She couldn’t go through that again. Therefore, the only
sensible thing to do was to run from it—fast, hard…and again.

****

Casey knew what headed his way, and for it, his hands
found her wrists and he held onto them for dear life. Mecenna had the want to
slap him written all over her face, and he was having none of her disobedience
tonight.

He watched her struggle with what she’d let him get
away with: the regret, the sudden shame. These very raw emotions only made life
more difficult for both.

He was mildly surprised he could remain so fully under
control. Well, most of his body was. One vital part of his anatomy wanted
control lost in a real bad way.

Still, the mutiny in her eyes showed clear through and
dared him to say exactly what was on his mind. It was something stuck on his
mind for the past few months. The moment he’d arrived at the club, saw Lace’s
car parked by the exit door, knew the women were inside, then saw Mecenna
hanging off the pole, was the moment Casey decided he had to do something
permanent about possible loss of control.

Mecenna could easily react to what his body wanted,
but Casey dropped her wrists, put his hands to her face, pulled her to him
hard, and kissed her again.

She fought against this second kiss for one brief
second, then gave in.

She must not have figured on a second attack, but once
it began, there was nothing she could do to him to stop it. Other than, groin
him. Damage the goods on a man who more than interested her…and who could
certainly kiss the pants off a woman? No. Not hot Mecenna. She’d want him
whole, non-bruised; her undying curiosity increased by the simple molding of
their mouths.

Casey walked Mecenna backwards. As he deepened the
kiss, the struggles in her body subsided. He bent her in half, and laid her
flat out on the stage.

Casey had bent along with her to where he now lay on
top of her. He never once let go of her face.

With deliberate purpose, her warm hands found his
waist as the pressure built to uncontrollable. Mecenna’s slender fingers dove
under his shirt. Her sharp nails scraped the sensitive skin on his sides, then
moved to the hairs across his pecs. Still, he would not let go of her face, or pull
his mouth from hers.

They must have laid on the stage for a good five
minutes, just kissing. Five minutes of exploration, irrational behavior and
loss of reasoning. When it was over, Casey stood, readjusted his jeans,
straightened his shirt—a shirt Mecenna had nearly taken off him—and he held out
a hand to help her up.

She looked at his hand. A half-second later, she
slapped it away.

“You wanted this from me for a long time, Mecenna,” he
warned.

She slid off the stage and glared. “Is that what this
was all about? What I’ve wanted from you?”

Casey’s smile fell. The truth had to be said even if
it sounded cold-hearted, or crass. “No. You know damn well this was what I
wanted from you, too.”

“My, my…the mighty Casey finally admitted he can be
knocked off his high horse,” she said tartly.

This irked him beyond repair. An employee was all of
what this woman was to him, and she should learn her place—learn to hold her
tongue or plan on finding somewhere else as her employment.

“Oh, really? High horse is it? You should talk,
Sweetheart,” he responded bluntly. “Ever take a look in the mirror lately? Or
do you only see emptiness and despair when your reflection comes back to you?”

Mecenna ignored his gibe. “You were waiting for Lace
to leave us alone, weren’t you?” she asked.

He couldn’t react to this, knowing she was trying to
get his goat. Yet he wondered how it possible for the captain of the ship to
abandon all self-reasoning and join the crew in mutiny.

“No. But I’m glad she has, though I never thought to
do this to you tonight…”

“Some other night, perhaps?” she interrupted, as a
single brow rose to amplify her nastiness.

Casey’s tone turned formal, all business-like. “No,
this wouldn’t have happened any other night either, Mecenna. If you hadn’t
opened your mouth the wrong way…”

She took a step forward and touched his arm.

Unfortunately, Casey reacted in a way she’d likely
wanted of him. He flinched from her gentle touch.

“Why can’t you just tell me the truth, Griffen?” she
asked.

Her plead silken voice stung his ears. His eyes rose.
They’d lowered to her palm and slender fingers touching his arm.

“What do you think I am not saying?” he asked.

“You, Big Boy, are not saying you want me in the worst
possible way.”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling to mask the seriousness
of his thoughts. “Fuck, Mecenna! Of course I want you. Any man with eyes would
want you. You have what it would take to please a man—in more ways than one.
Firm tits, great ass, and you’re needy. Guys love that shit. A needy woman is
an easy fuck and every man on earth wants things easy when it comes to sex.”

Her placid expression changed in a single heartbeat.
“Just not you.”

Casey’s expression changed, as well, into acceptance.

“Just not me,” he echoed.

Before Mecenna could pull more out of him in the way
of truthfulness, he figured offering it to her without further struggle would
be in his best interest. “You’re my employee, Sweetheart. I can’t lose you over
a hot, one-night fuck, with a more than ready cunt.” His eyes lowered to the
specific area of her body as a sudden smile came forth.

“Oh, yeah? Who says I have any interest in you in a
sexual way?”

She tried her damnedest to make this sound truthful,
but her struggles to convince him of this lie had only increased the slight
tremble her body betrayed her with.

Damnit, just the mere mention of a wetted cunt
involving a one-night stand got him even harder, to where it became painful. He
stepped forward, grabbed Mecenna by the shoulder with his left hand, slid his
right hand down her pencil thin waist and shoved his index finger deep into the
aforementioned wetted heat; no questions, no invitation, not even an arched
brow to warn the temptress this was going to happen.

He literally pulled her hips toward him by the crook
of his finger stuck inside her, then slid his finger in and out to prove his
point. These swift actions created the expected gasp he’d wanted to come out of
her delicate mouth, but she did not pull away or show the invasion as unwanted.
In fact, truth be told, she’d dared him to do even more by the lowering of her
lashes and the
try if you might
smile held firmly on her face.

She was wet, wide, and ready for him. Physical
confirmation could not lie. All he’d need to do would be to lower the zipper of
his jeans
then
screw her until she begged for mercy.

“You can’t lie to me, Mecenna—ever,” he rasped out.

Casey eased his finger out of her swollen slit and
with an unexpected movement on his part, shocking his conscience, he stuck his
finger directly into his mouth, sucking off her honeyed moisture.

Mecenna’s eyes had followed the movement to
completion.

And he could see that in all the time she’d known him,
not once would she have thought he could shock her in such a way.

“Your honey is quite delicious, Mecenna,” he said,
licking his lips. “But you’re still an employee and I do not fuck
employees—because it just makes good business sense.”

Ice-blue eyes trapped his. The venom and fury in their
depths unsettled his soul.

“Have you ever fingered one of your employees before?”
she asked tartly.

Casey smiled, perhaps only to make matters worse and
life surely more complicated for the both. “No. I haven’t. Just you.”

****

Sara stood tall on jelly-filled legs and tried her
damnedest to make it seem as though Casey hadn’t put a lit match to a full can
of gasoline. Every pore in her body was tingling in anticipation. Every
molecule was set to explode. She’d nearly had a full blown orgasm by way of a
single finger shoved inside her, and the ingratiating smile on his face
signaled this as his every intention

Therefore, she knew she had to react, kill guilt
before it set in. “And you won’t ever again.”

She did not wait to see what his return reaction would
be to her words. Sara turned on her heel and walked swiftly to the dressing
room where she’d left her wrap. A full minute later, after she could calm down
long enough and not look so damn guilty in the mirror reflecting her image as
full-blown mockery, she left the building, wounded pride barely intact.

Lace had taken the car, but the five-block walk would
do her good.

This had been her every intention.

Casey—one finger fucking bastard—thought otherwise. He
caught up to her a half-block away. “Get in the car, Mecenna.”

Her steady strides did not stop. She placed one foot
in front of the other. Her arms swung back and forth, purely out of spite,
their pendulum arch high and deliberate.

The infuriating man revved his engine nearer the
sidewalk. “I said…get in.” His tone left no room for doubt that he was pissed
at how the evening was turning out.

Sara slammed on the internal brakes and turned to
glare at his arrogance. During the half-block near sprint, she’d been
contemplating on how to get even with the man for what he’d done to her inside
the club.

Well, two could easily play his game. All she had to
do was figure out what the rules to the game were, then go on from there. How
hard could that be?

Casey leaned over the console of his car and opened
the passenger door. “You’re not walking home at three in the morning Mecenna.”

Sara meant to stay silent, but her temper got the
better of her. “Why the fuck not?”

“Because…”

She watched Casey swallow, trying to get the words
past his tongue without choking on them. “Jesus, Mecenna, you are naked under
your wrap…and that could get you in a lot of trouble out here. Get in. I’ll
take you home.”

Bloody Hell!

She hated when he was right. This wasn’t exactly an
upscale neighborhood. But she didn’t want
Mr. Know-it-all
to be right.
She wanted to be angry with him. Not only with him…alas, with all men, as a
generality. He’d more than turned her body into an infernal flame of want over
need inside his club, but he’d tossed every emotion inside of her away, as if
yesterdays’ news, once it suited his needs. That hurt.

She did not want any man to be able to hurt her again.

“Fucking Hell, Mecenna! Get in the goddamn car! I
won’t wait much longer.” He glanced forward to check for traffic. At three in
the morning, Griffen’s fancy sports car was the only vehicle on the street. It
was a seedy street and not exactly the place to drive a one hundred
fifty-thousand dollars car on at three a.m.

Equally, out of the corner of her eye, she could see
their conversation had caused interest in two men of ill character farther down
the block. They turned, switched money for a plastic baggie, and started coming
her way. Either she got into the devil’s car or she could deal with the devil’s
spawn while naked, half-drunk, and at three in the morning.