The Stopover (The Miles High Club 1)

He takes my ponytail in his hand and wraps it around his knuckles three times and pulls my head to the side to give him access to my neck. In slow motion, he licks from my collarbone to my jaw with his thick, strong tongue. His lips go to my ear. “I didn’t get to taste you yet.”

I close my eyes as arousal runs through my blood like a river rapid. Goose bumps scatter up my spine.

I turn to him, and he takes my hand and puts it over his large erection in his pants.

Electricity zaps between us, and our eyes are locked. My breathing becomes ragged.

“Can I see you tonight?” he breathes.

I squeeze his dick as my sex clenches in appreciation.

“No, Jameson, you can’t.” I turn and walk out of his office with my heart hammering in my chest.

I get into the elevator as my body screams for me to go back. Every molecule in my body wants that man.

But he’s just an asshole . . . and I’m just another groupie.

It’s not going to happen.

It’s Saturday night, and we are lined up to get into Sky Bar. I’m with Ava and Renee, and this is our third club. It’s nearly midnight. I’m having the best time ever. We have laughed and danced and prick teased every stupid man in New York.

“Why are we waiting here in line again?” I frown. “What was wrong with the last place?”

“Nothing. This place is better, but it doesn’t heat up until eleven.”

“Oh.” I shrug. Gosh, I know nothing about New York nightlife. The doorman removes the red rope blocking the door and ushers us in, and my breath catches.

Wow, this bar is way up on the fiftieth floor and has a huge balcony overlooking the city lights. There’s a dance floor and numerous cocktail bars, and the girls are right—the men here are another caliber.

I glance down at myself nervously; I hope I look all right. My long dark hair is down, and I’m wearing a cream-colored fitted dress. It has long sleeves and a plunging neckline. I splurged and bought myself a new dress for tonight; I wanted to look nice.

It’s paying off; I’ve never gotten so much male attention in my life. Amazing what a tight dress and a little cleavage can do for a girl.

We order drinks and go and find a space to stand as I look around in awe. I’ve never been in such a cool nightclub before. “This place is insane.” I smile at the girls.

“Right?” Ava smiles. “The men here are off the hook.”

“And filthy rich,” Renee adds.

“Who cares about rich?” I smirk as I sip my drink.

“Me,” they both reply in unison.

“If you’re going to be with a guy, he may as well be wealthy, if you ask me. Fuck being with a poor bastard. I’m poor, and opposites most definitely attract,” says Ava.

I laugh as I listen to them.

“So who do we have here tonight?” Ava says as she looks around the club.

“What do you mean?” I ask as I watch her eyes scan the room.

“This place is a huge celebrity hangout.”

“Really?” I frown as I look around. “I wouldn’t even know any celebrities.”

Over the next hour, we dance and laugh, and Ava explains to me in great detail about who is who. Apparently, the men are all very impressive. None take my fancy, though.

A gorgeous man comes up through the crowd and puts his hands on my thighs. “Do you want to dance?” he asks. He’s blond and big and totally in my space, but the way he looks, I think I can deal with it.