The Stopover (The Miles High Club 1)

I sip my drink as I look around the room. “Hey,” Tristan says as he comes to stand beside me. “Look who’s here.”

“Who?” I mutter, uninterested.

“Cream-colored dress, hair down, and looking absolutely fucking sensational.”

I frown as I look over to where he is gesturing.

It’s her. Emily is here.

A broad smile crosses my face. “Well, well. The night just got interesting.”

Tristan chuckles. “That’s if you don’t kill each other first.” He slaps me on the back. “I’m going to the bar.”

“Yeah, okay.” She’s with two women I’ve never seen before, although they do look vaguely familiar; they might be from work. They’re talking and laughing. Emily is wearing a tight cream-colored dress with long sleeves and a plunging neckline. I can see every curve on her delicious body, and my cock swells in appreciation. Her hair is down, and she pulls it over to one side as she talks, and I see the curve of her bare neck; my stomach clenches in excitement.

Fuck . . . she’s hot.

I’ve never had such an intense physical reaction to a woman like this before. I just can’t get enough of her body. The more I have her, the more I want her. If only she didn’t have the snarkiest damn attitude I’ve ever seen.

Maybe that’s the appeal?

Most women fall at my feet; she seems determined to push me away. Hmm. That’s something to think about. If the truth be known, I should stay away from her. She works for me, she’s a firecracker, and who knows what she will do if we fight again. I smirk. I already know that we will fight again—the writing is on the wall. She has a way of pissing me off like no other.

A song comes on that she obviously likes, and she starts to dance on the spot. Her ass slowly moves to the tantric beat, and I stand and stare, transfixed by the goddess in front of me.

She has no idea how fucking sexy

she is.

“New York sour,” Tristan says as he hands me my drink.

“Thanks.” I take it from him.

“You know, the way you’re looking at her is illegal in some countries, right?”

I watch her hips roll, and I imagine them over me doing the same thing. I inhale sharply as my arousal starts to thump between my legs. “Have you ever been so physically attracted to someone that you lose the ability to think around them?”

“No. Thank fuck,” Tristan replies as he watches her dance. “Although with that ass, I can imagine—”

“Don’t even fucking look at her ass, or I will sit you on yours,” I say, cutting him off.

He chuckles. “Look at you getting all territorial.” He sips his drink as mischief fills his face. “She did want to report to me with that story, you know.”

I look at him flatly. “And you report to me, fucker. Go near her, and you will fucking die.”

He throws his head back and laughs out loud.

A blond man walks over to her and says something, and she smiles up at him.

“Oh, look out,” Tristan teases. “Competition is on the horizon.”

I watch as uneasiness begins to swirl.

His hands go to her thighs, and I clench my jaw. I sip my drink as I watch.

He says something, and she laughs out loud before he takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor.

Are you fucking kidding me?