Desire

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

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 argument 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.