Adore Me (Austin Singles 3)

Laughing, I said, “How do you think you would have reacted if I’d said I was taking you back to my place?”

She bit down on her lip and looked away.

“Exactly.”

The doors opened, and we instantly heard and felt the bass from inside.

After another short walk down a hall, we came to a stop in front of a bouncer.

“Lou, how are you tonight?”

“Good evening, Mr. Greene. How are you tonight, sir?”

“Doing good.”

He held open the door for us, and as we walked into the club, I gave him the name of the Uber driver and told him to let him in free.

Reaching for Morgan’s hand, I navigated our way through the crowd and to the bar. I tapped on it and Jim, the lead bartender, turned to face me. “Mr. Greene! Great seeing you. Your usual?”

I could feel Morgan’s eyes on me. “Yes, and a vodka cranberry for the lady.”

Her body pressed against mine, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. “How did you know that was what I liked?”

“I pay attention to things, Morgan. You’ve ordered it every time I’ve been out with you.”

“Oh.”

That was all she said. It was soft, and the heat of her breath hitting me on the neck made its way down to my dick. I had to focus on it not going hard as a rod in my pants.

Turning, I handed her the drink. “Come on, follow me.”

She took my hand again, and I tried like hell to ignore the way her touch made my stomach dip.

After making our way through the crowd and up a small flight of stairs, we walked over to an empty table tucked back in a dark corner. It had a sign on it that said reserved.

“Blake, this is reserved.”

“I can see that.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Smart ass. We can’t sit here.”

“We can.”

Pointing to the sign, she said, “No. We can’t.”

A waitress walked by and Morgan stopped her. “Excuse me, who is this table reserved for?”

The girl looked at the table, then me. The look she gave me said she was confused. “Good evening, Mr. Greene.”

I nodded and smiled.

Morgan glanced from me to the waitress, waiting for her to answer. “The table is reserved for the owners, ma’am.”

“See!” Morgan nearly shouted at me.

“Will you bring us a bottle of my favorite champagne?”

The waitress nodded and flashed a bright smile. “Right away, Mr. Greene.”