Powerful Awakening [L.U.S.T. 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (6 page)

“I have always made sure my presence and appreciation as club owner is known.” He glanced pointedly around the crowd now circling them before returning his gaze to hers. “They also know I cannot dance.”

“
Do
not dance,” Chrystal corrected him, moving that final fraction of an inch that diminished any space between them. Her body fit against his like a long-lost puzzle piece. Her breasts flattened against his chest, her nipples poking like insistent darts into the solid muscles of his torso. Her belly settled against his groin and she immediately registered the approximate length, girth, and definite firmness of his cock. The estimation of his erection made her head swim even as her pussy convulsed in anticipated excitement. “We’re about to show them you can.”

The music changed, the tempo shifting to a sensuous beat, and Chrystal used her hold on Andrew’s hand to guide him behind her. She didn’t need to look at him to get the sense she had surprised him. Had he really thought she had forgotten about him?

You’re flirting your ass off with Michael. Why wouldn’t Andrew feel left out?

She tipped her head back, glancing over her shoulder and up, as Andrew moved in behind her. His gaze instantly locked with hers and she saw nothing but approval and enjoyment in the depths of his hazel eyes. She released his hand, absorbing the flames that ignited in her womb when he folded the fingers of both his hands around her sides just below her breasts. Michael eased his hand from hers as well, the fingers of his hands closing around her hips.

Chrystal wound her arms around Michael’s neck and felt every ridged contour and plane of his body slide down her front as he bent his knees, aligned their groins, and started to move. Behind her, Andrew allowed Michael to take the lead, following the other man’s movements with a masterful ease that made her feel as though this wasn’t the first time the two men had done something like this.

Needing to be closer, yearning to feel Michael’s strong muscles more firmly against her body, Chrystal extended a leg around his. Her skirt rode high as she arched her body into him and ground her pussy against his thigh.

Heat sparked in his eyes as he gazed down at her, igniting another inferno in her core that threatened to burn her from the inside out. Whoops and hollers broke out from the crowd around them and the air thickened. Goose pimples broke out on every inch of her flesh as that unmistakable power she had been sensing since the moment she looked into Michael’s eyes moved through the room.

This is not a show, my friends. You will join us. You will dance with us, for tonight we all have fun.

Chrystal stared at him, her body continuing to follow his lead on its own accord, as the impossible gradually worked its way into the probable. He’d said those words. She’d heard his voice in her mind. Yet, his lips hadn’t moved. All around them, the crowd started dancing, closing in until not an inch of available space was left on the dance floor.

Her arms around Michael’s shoulders, she threaded her fingers in the hairs at his nape and let her head fall back on Andrew’s chest. For the second time that night, the world around her faded into nothingness. No vision replaced it this time. No premonition or whatever the hell it had been before. She stayed in the moment, feeling Andrew’s body moving against her back, his knees bent slightly and his cock in perfect alignment with her ass. Michael moved against her front, his dick tormenting her pussy through the thin material of her skirt.

She let her eyes drift shut as she lost herself in the feel of them, in the energy pumping out of them and into her, and in the wonderment of how it could all seem so incredibly right. Even when Michael’s hands traveled from her hips to push between her body and Andrew’s to cup her ass, it didn’t startle her. Andrew’s hands remained on her sides, his index fingers lightly grazing the undersides of her breasts through her thin cotton bra.

She wanted more. She thrust her hips back, slithering her ass, feeling Michael’s hold on her as well as the definite presence of Andrew’s erection slipping between Michael’s hands to press insistently against her bottom. She flattened her hands on Michael’s shoulders and dragged them down his chest, reveling in the feel of his muscles rippling beneath her palms. She wanted him out of his shirt, out of his pants, and wanted the same of Andrew. She wanted out of her own clothes, the need to be skin-to-skin with both of them mounting to an almost overwhelming level in her very soul.

What’s going on? Why do I want him, want
them
, so desperately I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t have them?

She couldn’t explain it and didn’t bother to try. She was operating on sensory overload, every circuit in her being opening to allow current after current of electric do-me-now need to flow through her entire body. She had never experienced such a carnal urge to fuck and, yet, everything in her being screamed at her that this desire, this intense compulsion was far more than that.

“You are one truly amazing woman.”

Chrystal angled her head on Andrew’s shoulder as he nuzzled his lips against her ear, the husky sound of his voice tormenting her pussy as if he’d slipped a finger between her sodden folds, but refused her channel penetration.

“Some things definitely never change from one life to the next.”

Chrystal opened her eyes, puzzled by his words. She started to lift her head, to turn so she could see him more fully, but saw Michael’s lips closing in.

Her heart stilled, her lips pulsing in anticipation of a kiss he didn’t give her. His lips grazed over her cheek. Chills sped down her spine at the heat of his breath as he whispered in her ear.

“Thank you for the dance, my sweet. It was an experience I will never forget.”

Before she could respond, Michael’s grip on her ass loosened, his hands falling away as a cold distance moved in between them. Andrew remained behind her, the solid wall of his body steadying her as Michael lifted a finger to her face and glided the pad over her slightly parted lips. His gaze shifted over her head and she watched as he exchanged a very meaningful, but wordless conversation with Andrew before he smiled down at her again.

“Come back to me soon, my sweet. When you are ready, there is much for us to discuss.” And, with that, he backed away from her, allowing himself to be swallowed by the crowd.

* * * *

Andrew flattened his hand on the small of Chrystal’s back as the elevator doors opened onto the top floor of the Four Seasons Hotel. He’d managed to control himself for days in the Florida Keys, not touching her despite the needs of the beast and man warring inside him. He’d convinced her to follow him to Atlanta, fearing the danger he’d put her in when he discovered Nikolas would be sending the pack after him. Now that he’d touched her at Club Lust, he could no longer find the strength to keep his hands to himself.

He studied her as they walked down the long hallway that would split at the end, leading in one way to the Presidential suite he’d booked for her, and the other way to the mirroring suite he’d gotten for himself. She was steady again, her movements graceful, her head held high, and her eyes clear. He didn’t see a hint of the confusion he’d witnessed in her at the club, didn’t feel a bit of hesitation, and didn’t hear anything beyond the even breaths of a contented woman.

He’d expected an entirely different reaction out of her. He’d figured she would bombard him with questions on the drive back to the hotel. He’d even rehearsed his answers to a few suspected ones. Instead, she had remained silent. She’d sat in the passenger seat, gazing out the window, pointing now and then and making a comment about a site she wished to visit.

It baffled him. He knew Michael hadn’t used mind control on her back at the club. Yet, the moment the three of them had touched, it had been as if they were back to the beginning, swept away in the time when Rebecca had been between them. The bond they shared, the energy infused from their love combined with that of the forces garnered by him and Michael in the beasts they had become, had made Andrew feel power drunk tonight. Had it done the same to Chrystal?

They reached the end of the hallway and Andrew used his hand on the small of her back to steer her to the right. The heat of her body left his palm as she went left instead, stepping away from his touch.

He did a quick-step to catch up with her, putting his hand on her shoulder this time, as she continued at a steady, even pace toward the door to his suite. “Chrystal, honey, your suite is down the other hall.”

“I know.” She waited until she reached the door to his room before she turned, tipped her head back, and met his gaze. “I don’t want to go my room.”

Andrew stared down at her, struggling to silence the party going on in his head. He didn’t believe she was drunk, not from alcohol, in any case. She hadn’t even finished the drink she’d ordered while he’d been in the men’s room. He didn’t possess the power to put her under any sort of spell and wouldn’t have even if he’d held the ability.

Her luscious lips curved up as her gaze danced over his face. “I know what I’m doing, Andrew. I had a few questionable moments back at the club, but my head is clear now.” She touched the closed door with a knuckle. “I want to go in there, if you would kindly open the door. Unless you would prefer to stand out here talking about it the rest of the night.”

“Your father—”

“Isn’t here,” she finished his statement before he could. “He would also realize what a big girl I am even if he were.”

Flummoxed with himself for even attempting to argue, Andrew dug the key card out of his wallet and unlocked the door to his suite. He pushed the door open, reaching a hand inside to flip on the light switch as she stepped over the threshold and into the lavish living room. A plush burnt-orange sectional with a matching high-back chair and ottoman sat in the center of the room in front of the far wall with a panoramic window overlooking the city of Atlanta.

Andrew quietly closed and locked the door, watching Chrystal as she made her way across the Oriental rug covering the hardwood floor of the room to that window.

“I owe you an apology for tonight,” she said, her voice bouncing off the window to carry back to him.

Andrew pocketed the key card as he moved to the wet bar on the left side of the room, poured two snifters of brandy, and joined her at the window.

“Thank you.” She took the snifter he offered her, sipped, and then continued as if she hadn’t finished her sentence. “For my actions at the club, especially on the dance floor. I…” She trailed off, expelled a half laugh, then started again. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Andrew leaned a shoulder against the window and lifted his glass to his lips for a sip. “You don’t owe me anything.” He raised a brow and considered his next words before he spoke them. “Michael might look for payback come tomorrow night when the club reopens. I have a feeling his regular patrons aren’t going to let him live that show on the dance floor down for a very long time.”

Chrystal flashed him a grin that faded far too quickly for his taste and turned her attention back to the window. “I’ve never met a man like Michael.” She took a deep, audible breath, then glanced at him again. “Except for you. I can’t explain that statement, so please don’t ask me to try. I feel things when I’m around you, especially when you touch me. I felt them tonight with Michael and those feelings were…” She threw her head back, closed her eyes briefly, then slowly lifted her head once more. “Those feelings were even more overwhelming when you were both touching me.” She leveled her gaze on Andrew, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I get the impression you know what it is and why it’s happening. So does Michael. I doubt either of you will tell me, but you know, don’t you?”

Well, fuck. How the hell was Andrew supposed to answer that one? Leave it to Chrystal to confront him head-on.

Andrew scratched his chin, wondering if he should dare tell her the truth or find a way to weasel out of it for now. “Will it piss you off if I say I don’t think you’re ready to hear it?”

She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully, then studied him over the rim of her snifter as she took another sip of her brandy. “Will it piss you off if I admit there’s something I’ve been holding back from you?”

Andrew had suspected as much. He hadn’t told Michael tonight, but he believed there was more to her tracking him down than a lead for a blog story and definitely more to her sticking around. He’d already given her enough information to keep a blog scheduled with continuing posts for a month. In turn, she had agreed to leave his name out of anything she wrote. He’d given her the exclusive, treated her to an interview he’d never given any other media source, and she’d given him her solemn promise to refer to him only as the Company Savior.

Andrew bit back a grin. “Touché.”

He watched in abstract fascination as she knocked back the remainder of her brandy. The beast inside him growled, his tongue pulsing with the urge to lick its way down the slender column of her throat. He wanted to taste her, to feast on every delectable inch of her smooth flesh.

“Just so you know,” she said as she moved to the coffee table and set the snifter down, “I didn’t do that for liquid courage.”

“I doubt there’s anything in the world you would feel the need to have liquid courage to pull off, sweetheart.” Andrew shot a pointed look at the discarded snifter. “I’ll get you some more if you want it.”

“I don’t.” Chrystal started back toward him, each step slow and calculated as if she were a panther sneaking up on her prey.