Zeke Munroe is twenty eight, owns a nightclub called Rubens and has found the woman of his dreams. She’s older, she’s sexy and she’s driving him nuts. He can’t find the right time to introduce himself and make his move, until she walks through the door of his club.
Jasmine Page is thirty nine she’s an events organizer and Rubens is the hottest new venue in the city. When she goes to check the venue out Jasmine discovers she’s in a Cougar Club. The men are young, the women mature and the owner of Rubens is the closest thing to perfection she’s ever seen.
Zeke and Jasmine need to overcome preconceived notions, miscommunication and an eleven year age difference in order to see if sexual heat and passion can turn into a meaningful relationship.
As she lifted herself onto the seat, she slipped her shoes off and watched them tumble to the floor. Jasmine rested her elbows against the bar, propped her hand in her head and rubbed her temples. Great, the hangover is starting before the partying has finished. Jasmine finally crossed her arms over each other and let her head fall forward to rest against them. She closed her eyes, and shivered now that she was no longer dancing.
Something icy cold was placed against Jasmine’s arm and she felt another chill run through her. She raised her head and stared at the large glass of water in front of her.
“You’re probably dehydrated. You hardly stopped dancing all night.” The deep, smooth voice washed over her, causing her body to begin to heat once more.
Jasmine turned her head toward the warmth and when she finally managed to refocus her eyes, she almost moaned in ecstasy. If there was a God then he had truly out done himself. The man smiling down at her was perfection. He was sitting on the bar stool next to her, leaning against the wall. His hair was dark, almost black and hung just below his broad shoulders in long tantalizing waves. It was pushed back from his face at the front, except for one stray curly strand that had worked its way loose to kiss up against his cheekbone. His eyes were dark like his hair and conveyed the same warmth as his voice. His lips were thick and lush ready to be kissed. As her gaze roamed down his body, she was taken by the hard chest and abs that were defined under his tight black T-shirt, his legs were a lengthy example of perfection, muscular thighs under dark denim, and a bulge…Jasmine snapped her eyes back to his face and hoped she wasn’t blushing.
“Drink,” he leaned forward and spoke softly into her ear.
Oh, how could a man smell so divine? She had never smelt a man like him before and she could feel her pussy start to tingle, as he watched her bring the glass to her lips, taking a refreshing drink. She inhaled deeply. Accents of cinnamon and spice tantalized her nostrils. Talk about olfactory heaven.
“I just thought I’d sit here while I waited for my friends.” Jasmine had no idea why she felt the need to explain her presence to him and couldn’t understand why he looked at her with a wry smile as she spoke.
“I think they’ve left.” He gestured toward the dance floor.
“Oh God, I fell asleep didn’t I?” Jasmine was horrified once she realized the house lights were on and the dance floor empty. In fact the whole club was empty except for a few bar staff who were cleaning up.
“We cleared everyone out and closed the club about fifteen minutes ago.” He was smiling at her as he spoke. “You looked so peaceful I thought I’d let you sleep until I was ready to leave.”
Jasmine gasped when his body brushed against hers as he bent forward, a blaze of heat stroking her body where he touched. She noticed how his gaze roamed along her stockinged legs as he bent to pick up the shoes. As he returned to an upright position, his lips brushed against her leg and he planted a kiss on the lace that sat mid thigh. She wanted to move, to push her wayward hemline back in place. Instead she just stared at the heated point where his lips had been, feeling the warmth spread upward toward her quickly moistening pussy.
“Nice stockings.” He stated as he took her hand and assisted her in stepping down from the stool. Jasmine wasn’t sure how she did it, but she managed to pull the hem of her dress back into position as he led her through a door and down a hallway to the club’s back entrance.
“Can’t I go out the front door?” she asked quietly.
“Not if I’m taking you home, I park my car out the back.”
“I can get a cab…you don’t need to take me home. I mean I don’t even know who you are. I assume you work here, but won’t you get in trouble or something if your boss finds out you’ve left with one of his customers?” Jasmine knew she was jabbering but all of a sudden she felt nervous, and she always talked when her nerves got the better of her. “Is it actually good business practice for the bar staff to take inebriated women home with them?”
Jasmine didn’t have time to stop. Unaware he’d turned around to face her, she slammed right into his hard chest and would have fallen back, had he not slipped his arm around her waist and held her against himself.
“Firstly, I’m a bit offended that you think I’m one of the bar staff. Not that there is anything wrong with working the bar, I sometimes still do it if we’re short staffed. Secondly, I apologize for being rude and not introducing myself. I’m Zeke, Zeke Munroe.” Jasmine thought she was going to burn alive being pressed against Zeke. She placed her hand on his chest and attempted to step back, but he held her firm. “In case you’re wondering what I do here, I’m the owner, and I like to ensure the safety of my customers at all times. It wouldn’t be safe to let you wander off into the dark at this hour. Therefore, I’m taking you home.”
Zeke released her from against his chest, and began to walk forward with her once again, though this time his arm stayed around her waist.
“I don’t want you to go out of your way. You can just put me in a cab.”
“Your place isn’t out of my way. In fact, you could say we live together.” He opened the door of a black Porsche and deposited her into the seat before leaning inside and doing up her seat belt.
“I live by myself, and I’m not giving you my address. So you will just have to either put me in a cab or take me to the train station.” Jasmine thought Zeke was way too cocky for his own good and he needed to be taught a lesson. She imagined he was used to women flinging their pert little bodies at him and, despite the fact she had the urge to do just that, she wasn’t going too. If she didn’t give him her address then he would have to let her go.
“Okay, you don’t have to give me your address. Have it your way.”
Jasmine exhaled and relaxed her head back against the soft leather seat, satisfied she had taught Mr. Zeke Munroe that some women are impervious to his rock hard body and dominant charm.
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