Last Call by M.S. Brannon Read Free Book Online

well-groomed beard. He’s very rugged yet sophisticated looking. The black suit hides nothing when it comes to his trim, muscular physique. Immediately, I want to see what is hiding under his black suit jacket. He looks like a man; a tough, confident, take charge kind of man—a real man.
    The air in my lungs gets strangled and butterflies start to swarm rapidly inside my stomach. I don’t know what to do, but I know what I want to do. What the hell does he want with me? 
    As Jason leans down and his lips graze the skin of my knuckles, I’m lost, unaware of what I should be doing. Do I ask him to the bathroom so we can make out? Do I grab his balls and hope he gets the not so subtle message? Why didn’t I ask Shelby? She’s the one who does the random hook-ups, not me. I know nothing about hooking up—well, not anymore. Shit, what the hell am I getting myself into? He’s probably going to get one look at my naked body, find a stretch mark, and run screaming to the first available childless bimbo. I’m doomed. If he runs, then I will never lust after a man again.
    When he raises his head, eyes connecting to mine once again, I can feel something inside me heat. The air is electrifying, and I can’t resist him. I can feel this is something I need. Even if it’s for the night, my soul needs to feel the connection I’ve been starved from.
    “Come,” Jason whispers as he leans closely to my ear. His voice is deep and rich with a slight southern drawl. I’m a goner. Listening to his voice alone has me begging for whatever he’s got planned. “Let’s go someplace private.”
    I can only nod my head as I’m escorted to the staircase behind the bar. He leads me up, ascending the stairs, fingers interlocked.
    I look to my left to see Shelby and Giselle. Giselle is bent over, touching her toes, while Shelby is pretending to bone her from behind. God, I love those crazy fucking girls. I smile at them and do my best to suppress a giggle as I get closer and closer to the top of the stairs.
    We come to a small hallway with three doors. When Jason pulls a key from his pants, unlocks the door to the left, and opens it, I feel like I’ve been transplanted into a modern James Bond movie. There’s a wall of surveillance TVs, high tech computer equipment, sleek office furniture, and a small bar to the side of the desk. I turn to my left and see the one-way mirror capturing the view of the entire club. Like the royalty he is, he’s above the villagers, staring down at his kingdom.
    “Drink?” Jason asks as he passes me a small glass filled with a brown liquid.
    I nod my head and take it. I need to speak. I mean, I should say something, right? No words are forming, though. Why aren’t the words forming? Therefore, nothing is coming out of my mouth. My stomach is fluttering with butterflies, and I’m afraid if I do open my mouth, I’m going to puke. I can’t think of another way to end this more quickly than to upchuck all over his thousand-dollar suit, unless I fart. Oh, God, the nervous farts. My stomach is churning from nerves. Sweet Mother of God, don’t let me fart.
    While I take deep breaths and make every attempt to clear my mind, he’s leaning against the wood of the bar as I stand opposite him by the one-way mirror. There’s a small smirk on his face as he simply stares at me. I’m unnerved. Then he sets down his glass and connects his eyes with mine again. They’re molten and fueled with desire.
    Before I can have a moment to think another thought, he’s standing in front of me, his body so close I’m consumed. Oh, shit.
     
     
     
    J ason
    This isn’t unusual for me. I’ve taken many women up to my office for the purpose of my satisfaction. Yet there’s something telling me it’s going to be different this time. There’s something about this moment that will be very different. She’s not like the others, but I don’t think that’s all there is to this feeling. She’s been on my mind for the last