Merediths Awakening

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Authors: Violet Summers

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Meredith’s Awakening

The Worthington Group

Violet Summers

(c) 2008

 

Meredith’s Awakening

The Worthington Group

Violet Summers

Published 2008

ISBN 978-1-59578-462-9

Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509

Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2008, Violet Summers. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Liquid Silver Books

http://LSbooks.com

Email:

[email protected]

Editor

Terri Schaefer

Cover Artist

April Martinez

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

 

Chapter 1

Meredith Worthington sat in her car in the dark, looking at the line snaking around the club outside with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Music throbbed through the night, vibrating her car windows, and seeming to taunt her:
coward, come in; see what
you’ve been missing.

Meri knew what she’d been missing: fun. Fun seemed to be the sole domain of her brothers. Marcus, her elder by six years, was married, but it didn’t seem to stop him from playing at any opportunity. In fact his wife, the stone cold bitch, seemed to get off on playing with him. And whoever else was around. Meri wrinkled her nose. That was
so
not the kind of fun she was after.

Matthew, younger than her by a mere ten months, had made fun his life’s work. He’d started making headlines in the local entertainment news at seventeen, and in the intervening years his exploits had only grown more extreme. At this very moment, Matthew was in the Caribbean somewhere swimming with stingrays. And, no doubt, drinking too much rum and screwing anyone who held still long enough. Okay, that wasn’t the kind of fun Meri was after, either. But it was getting closer.

At twenty-five, Meri felt as if all she’d ever done with her life was disappoint her father, go to school, and then dedicate herself to the family business. She couldn’t help but think if she was good enough at the Worthington Group, if she made the company successful enough, maybe the Old Man would finally stop despising her so much. Maybe she could finally breathe in his presence.

All of the work and school and more work had left her no time for an actual life.

When the day came when her jealousy over the disparity between her life and those of her brothers was unbearable, when she found she couldn’t utter a civil word to either of them when they came in radiating lazy satisfaction, Meredith had known it was time to do something.

Marcus, after all, had been her one comfort, her one constant until recently. Feeling such envy toward him now left her feeling sick and guilty. And adrift. And while she and Matt had never been as close—their father had seen to that by pitting them against each other at an early age—they’d always gotten along reasonably well. His breezy good nature didn’t deserve her resentment.

Yep. It was time to do something, all right. Something drastic.

Gathering all her courage, she checked her lipstick one last time before getting out of the car. She wobbled a little on her three-inch heels, and cursed to herself as the Old Man’s voice rumbled through her head.
Businesswomen never wear more than a two-inch
heel, Meredith. It’s cheap.
Well, maybe tonight she wanted to be cheap. Maybe it was the cheap women who got to have all the fun!

The line was ridiculously long. The beautiful, the desperate, and the depraved all waited beneath the lavender glow of Velvet Ice’s neon sign. The flashy club was one of Metro Detroit’s hottest dance clubs, and if there were whispers about what happened in the upper levels of the club, the titillation only added to the mystery. If the normal wait to enter was hours, the delay only added to the mystique. If only a bare fraction of the people in this line gained entry, the exclusivity only added to the allure.

Meri settled herself at the end of the line, tugging at her silver sequined mini skirt in the brisk fall air. She knew the bouncers did walk-bys of the line every half hour or so and plucked likely clubbers out for immediate entrance. She came from a well enough known family, Marcus had subsidized enough of the club’s start-up costs, and she had every expectation of being recognized and ushered in immediately.

She hadn’t been in line long enough to begin to shiver in the cold when she felt a tingle on the back of her neck. Automatically her shoulders straightened, and she assumed her haughty “Worthington Mask,” the one that sent weak men running for cover. Or to check to see if their male parts were still intact. Taking a breath, she forcibly reminded herself that the “Worthington Mask” had no place here. She
wanted
men to check her out. It was the whole point of this little field trip, after all. Reaction under control, she turned to face the source of her unease.

*

Tony Renatto had been working too hard for too long. His infant construction company had won a brutal bidding war for a local mall, only to be plagued with foul weather and a client who didn’t like to pay his bills on time, leading to a tedious and exhausting year.

He had a head of steam and boiling frustration that had been building for months, and tonight he intended to blow it all. And this was just the place to do it.

He worked his way up the line, ignoring the resentful glances of the would-be dancers as he passed them by. Membership had its privileges. He hadn’t been a member long before the mall job had gone to Hell, but he still had immediate and complete access to the club and its amenities whenever he chose to make use of them.

He was still near the end of the line when a flash of silver caught his eye. Zeroing in on the bright glitter, he beheld the most gorgeous creature God ever created. She was tall, at least five-ten in her high heels, and as slender as a willow switch. A waterfall of black, silky hair fell stick-straight down her back, reflecting the neon glow of the sign. Her breasts were small, but perfectly formed, their inner curves like ivory in the low, scooped neck of her silver halter top. He imagined her shoulders and back, hidden by a black shrug, would be equally perfect.

Tony was an impulsive man. He lived firmly in the now, and believed in going for what you wanted. Suddenly, with a fury that shocked him, he wanted this silver and ivory princess.

*

Meredith turned and froze. Arrowing through the crowded line was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. And his eyes were fixed firmly on her.

Her fingers twitched with the desire to comb through his hair, which looked to be nearly as black as hers. It was left carelessly long, falling in curls over his collar almost to his shoulders. And those shoulders! Broad and strong, they dwarfed the men around him.

Helplessly, she let her eyes take in the rest of the package. And, oh God, what a package it was! White, button down shirt half opened over a bronze chest liberally dusted with black hair. Snug black leather caressed every muscle and bulge of hard, thick thighs.

Especially the bulge between his legs, which seemed to grow beneath her fascinated gaze.

Holy Hannah! The man was gorgeous. A great dark knight in black leather. Walking sex on a stick. And he was walking toward her. She didn’t know if she should be elated or terrified.

He didn’t stop until he was close enough for her to feel his heat along the front of her body. It was delicious, and she had to force herself not to lean into him.

“Are you here alone?” His voice was a low rumble vibrating things inside she’d never even guessed were there.

She tried to answer, but her voice seemed trapped somewhere beyond her pounding heart, so she just nodded.

“You aren’t any more.”

He took her hand and, drawing her out of line, led her to the private entrance of the club.

*

Tony didn’t even pause as he showed the bouncer at the door his gold membership coin and towed his little princess directly to the second-level dance floor. While the first floor of the club was open to the general public, only members and their invited guests had access to the upper levels. This dance floor was kept dim, flashing with colored lights creating a multitude of shadowed corners. The music pounded, and the dancers responded, crashing into each other in a rage of energy and passion. And, in some dark corners, of sex.

He glanced down at his little princess, and smiled at her wide eyes. She was trying to be discreet, but her eyes darted from spot to spot, and every glance added to her dumbfounded expression. From her reaction, he’d bet she’d never been to a club at all, let alone a club like this one. There was something in her eyes, something that called to him.

Certainly there was innocence. It seemed to waft off her like perfume. But there was more. Underneath her innocence he detected a strength he found oddly compelling.

He bent so his mouth brushed the tender shell of her ear.

“Have you been here before?”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, and for a second he forgot what he’d meant to ask as he melted into the silvery depths. He blinked a couple of times when she leaned up on tiptoe to answer.

“No, this is my first time.” She cast those ethereal eyes around the room again and sent him a fey little smile. “And it’s exactly how I pictured it.” Her lips brushed the skin of his neck, just under his ear, with every word, and his cock swelled in response, begging to be brushed and stroked in just that way. Tony shook his head, amused at his reaction. He had every intention of getting lucky tonight, but he needed to take it slow, or he’d scare his little princess away. That was unacceptable.

*

Meredith felt almost giddy with excitement as her dark knight led her to the bar. She didn’t know his name, or who he worked for, or who his family was, and it was exactly how she wanted it. Every man she’d ever dated had been chosen and vetted by her father.

You might as well be good for something besides spending my money, girl. Make a good
marriage and you won’t be an entire waste of my DNA.

Unlike the men chosen by her father, this one seemed rough and uncontrollable. And the way he looked at her made her hot and squirmy in places a lady didn’t acknowledge.

God, she wanted to dance with him. For starters.

He ordered drinks without asking her preference, and his arrogance, which should have royally pissed her off, just turned her on more. When he’d handed her the Cosmopolitan he’d ordered for her, he leaned down to place his lips at her ear again.

“What’s your name, Princess?”

She suppressed a shiver at the sensation of his warm breath on her skin.

It wouldn’t do to actually tell him her name, she realized. But her mind was suddenly blank. Buffy? Gak. Tiffany? Double Gak. He’d called her princess… Hmmmm…

“I’m Ariel,” she answered, just loud enough to be heard over the music. Oh, good Lord, she thought. I’ve made myself into the Little Mermaid! “And you are?”

“Anthony.” She thought the name fit. A little formal, which went well with her image of a dark knight, and a little ethnic, which went just as well with his dark curly hair and warm chocolate eyes.

“So, Anthony,” Meredith did her best impression of Karen, Marc’s bitch goddess wife. The woman might be pure poison to other females, but men stood in line to fall at her feet. “Are you just going to ply me with liquor,” she tossed off her drink, relieved when she didn’t choke or gasp at the potent alcohol. “Or are you going to ask me to dance?” She thought an eyelash flutter might be a bit much at this point, so she settled for drawing her eyes slowly over his lips to meet his.

Oh, man. She saw some
naughty
things in his eyes.

“I don’t ask, much,” he replied, relieving her of her empty glass and sitting his own nearly untouched beer beside it on the bar. “I tend to just take what I want.” The words, and the way he took her arm and tugged her to the dance floor sent a thrill of sensation through her, and she felt a never-before-experienced flush of moisture in her panties. Oh, damn. And he’d only touched her arm.

Out on the floor, the lights were dizzying, the crowd a seething crush. It was almost claustrophobic, and put a bit of a damper on her light-headed arousal. Arousal which came back in a rush when Anthony dragged her against his rock-hard body, guiding her arms around his neck so they were plastered together from chest to knees.

He was hard and hot, and the silky black hair peeking from his half-open shirt rasped thrillingly over the skin of her chest left bare by the low neck-line of her halter. He rested his hands low on her hips, and she shuddered in reaction when his fingers found the soft skin between her top and skirt and began to stroke.

She’d had lovers. Tame boys chosen from the ranks of the eligible and acceptable.

None of them had managed, in the midst of sex, to arouse her as much as this stranger did just by looking into her eyes and stroking her back.

Oh, wow. She really
had
been missing out.

The more his fingers played over her bare skin, the more she melted into him. He smelled amazing, and she felt the alcohol, the lights and music, and his scent enveloping her in a haze of sensation. When he lowered his mouth to the spot where her neck and shoulder joined, she mindlessly tilted her head, giving him access.

His tongue was wet velvet. Just a little rough. Just a lot electric. She felt chill bumps rush over her at the sensation, and her nipples, already firm and stabbing into his hard chest, went painfully hard.

He kept up his torment, adding a light scrape of teeth to hot breath and tongue, and she didn’t even try to stop the moan that hummed out. His mouth lowered still more, licking over the hollow of her throat, teasing her for a moment with the possibility he might find one of her aching nipples with his diabolical tongue, before drifting up to bathe the other side of her neck.

They were still dancing, swaying slowly and out of time with the music. With each dip, Meredith pressed closer until she managed to align the notch of her thighs with the iron bar between his in a grinding pressure that enflamed more than it relieved.

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