Page 63 of Shatter

When she came to me that night, she was at the lowest I think a human being can be. These past two months she's gone from surviving to thriving, and she sparkles. Her smile comes faster and more often.

She's wearing less makeup, and dark roots have started to show at her hairline.

I never knew she has naturally dark hair.

I imagine her with a full head of dark hair, and it hits me in the chest how gorgeous she would be.

I couldn't give a shit what a woman does with her hair and makeup. But it makes me wonder what she wants. How much of what she's wanted all these years and was denied.

But I'm not the only man who has seen how beautiful she is. Half a dozen men in this room are watching right alongside me. The staff can't be touched, though, so I'm not worried. Let them look. It's my arms she sleeps in, and it's my mouth between her thighs every morning.

It's Elizabeth that has me worried. Every time she serves me, she flashes cleavage and licks her lips at me.

I'm polite, but cold, every time.

It's not the first time a server has gotten the wrong idea about me, but the sour looks she sends Mel's way have me on my guard. Elizabeth has picked up on my interest in Mel and is jealous.

That's fine, as long as she doesn't make it Mel's problem.

"Hey, baby," a sweet voice says before a warm body lands in my lap. If I didn't instinctively know it was Mel, I would have tossed the offending woman on the floor. Instead, I wrap my arm around her waist like normal.

I grip her hair in my fist before bringing her lips to mine, licking the seam of her lips and taking the kiss way further than socially appropriate. Fuck it. We're in a sex club. Making out is perfectly acceptable in the Green Room.

I can sense some of the men that were watching her stand and walk out.

Am I an asshole for marking my territory? Maybe. Do I care? Not in the slightest. This little show was for Elizabeth as much as any man here.

Mel's mine.

Period. End of story.

When I pull my mouth off of hers, she blinks up at me, gaze hazy with lust. She looks around quickly before grabbing my hand and pulling me down the hallway to the playrooms.

She pulls me into an unoccupied room before slamming the door shut and locking it.

"I have fifteen minutes to break," she says, tiny hands grabbing furiously at my suit.

I can't help the laughter that pours from my chest.

"Oh yeah? Think I can get you off in fifteen minutes?"

"That's kinda the definition of a quicky. Do you think I'll get in trouble?" she asks seriously, her hands slowing.

I spin us, pressing my body against hers, pinning her to the door.

I tug her polo out of her pants and undo her buttons.

"No. The only question is how do you want to come? On my hand, face, or cock?"

She moans, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Cock. I want you cum leaking out of me the rest of the day."

Jesus. I like the sound of that.

I rut against her thigh, already hard but getting myself worked up as I shove my hand into her panties. She's already slick with arousal, but I know I need to get her close. I dip my middle finger into her just barely, before pulling it back out and circling her clit. Hands thread through my hair, up and down my back, grabbing my ass and squeezing.

"I'm ready. Please. Please do it now." She whines. But too bad for her, I love denying her.