BumpnGrind Read online

  Bump ’n’ Grind

  Sam Cheever

  A companion story to Bits ’n’ Bytes.

  Felicia Jeffries is turning forty-five and her friends have dragged her to a male strip club to celebrate. She’d prefer to be hiding in a dark corner. Instead, she finds herself on stage, dirty dancing with a sexy hottie whose smoldering glances tell Felicia that he couldn’t care less about the difference in their ages.

  Garrett Holcomb has always liked older women. He enjoys convincing them that their bodies’ natural changes are sexy. When Felicia slides her attractive body against his in the dance club, he knows they’re meant to be together.

  But someone else doesn’t think their love is healthy. And he’ll do anything to make sure they miss out on the future they want together. Including nearly murdering a man and pinning the attack on Garrett.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Bump ‘n’ Grind

  ISBN 9781419934964

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Bump ‘n’ Grind Copyright © 2011 Sam Cheever

  Edited by Helen Woodall

  Cover art by Syneca

  Electronic book publication June 2011

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book.

  The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  Bump ‘n’ Grind

  Sam Cheever

  Chapter One

  Drenched in sweat and exhausted, Felicia Jeffries scrubbed her face with a towel. Her legs almost gave out on her when she stood up. Reaching down, she pressed the power button on the DVD player and rolled her yoga mat, settling it against the wall. It was hell getting older. She had to work harder and harder every year to keep herself in moderately good shape.

  She ate virtually nothing and constantly battled with weight gain.

  Life just wasn’t fair.

  Sighing, she headed upstairs to shower.

  Her phone rang just as she was stepping out of the shower. She glanced at the caller ID before picking up. “Hey.” Bliss Drake was Felicia’s best friend, and the force behind the looming event Felicia was currently dreading.

  “Hey, girlfriend. You ready for a hot night of drinking and debauchery?”

  Felicia groaned. “I think I’m coming down with something.”

  “Mm-hm. No way, babe. You’re coming tonight if I have to drag your narrow, white ass out the door and into that club myself.”

  “Okay, don’t get violent. I’ll be there. At eight o’clock sharp. You’d better be there to give me cover. Lord knows this is going to take five years off my life from sheer embarrassment.”

  Bliss’ throaty laugh slid through the phone line, making Felicia smile. “It’ll be good for you. Just because you’re turning forty-five doesn’t mean you have to act like an old woman.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Eight o’clock sharp, girlfriend. Wear something smexy!”

  Felicia groaned again and hung up.

  Smexy. At forty-five. What if her kids saw her?

  * * * * *

  Felicia pulled into the lot and parked. She stared at the low-slung brick building, chewing her bottom lip nervously. She wasn’t gonna be able to do it. It was crazy.

  Bliss was nuts.

  A forceful knock on her window made her jump and shriek in alarm. She turned to see Bliss’ attractive café mocha face grinning through the glass at her. “I knew you’d get cold feet, so I was waiting for you.”

  Felicia climbed out of the car. “You bitch. You scared the shit out of me.”

  Bliss laughed, linking her arm through Felicia’s. She looked incredible as always. Bliss was tall and well built, with huge boobs and a firm, round ass. She kept herself in fine shape and nature had been kind to her, giving her high sculpted cheekbones, gorgeous golden-brown eyes, and a wide mouth with full, sexy lips. She wore her hair in a soft, seventies-type ‘fro, and it worked for her. Her clingy, extremely short black dress looked as if it had been made for her, and only Bliss could get away with red shoes that had four-inch-high stiletto heels without looking like a hooker.

  Felicia smoothed a hand nervously down the front of her Oriental-style red dress. The dress had a high neckline and cap sleeves and she knew she looked good in it but it was a little tight for her comfort level, showing every curve in her body. Even the ones she didn’t want to advertise. Compared to Bliss’ “fuck me” shoes, Felicia’s simple black heels seemed dowdy.

  “You look sexy as hell, Miss Felicia.” Bliss purred. She gave Felicia’s arm a tug and all but dragged her toward the door of the club, stopping with her hand on the knob and turning to her nervous friend. “Are you ready to have your life changed?”

  Felicia closed her eyes and filled her lungs with air. Stars burst in front of her eyes. “I can’t go in there, Bliss. Don’t make me.”

  Bliss laughed and threw open the door. The low pulse of music throbbed from the room, the bass set so low Felicia’s jaw vibrated as she stepped over the threshold. As loud as it was, the music was occasionally eclipsed by a burst of feminine shrieking.

  Felicia looked past the bar toward the long, curvy stage that split the room in half. The stage was about chest high and had chairs all around it, with a narrow ledge for the customers sitting in the chairs to set their drinks on. Connected to the drinking bar across the back, the stage was lit with colored strobe lights and had dancers on it.

  Male dancers.

  Scantily clad male dancers.

  Felicia blushed and averted her face from Bliss, not wanting to endure the razzing she knew would follow if her friend noticed.

  Bliss’ throaty laugh told her it was too late. “Come on, Polly Pureheart. The girls are saving a seat for you.”

  A welcoming cheer erupted as Bliss dragged Felicia over to the edge of the stage, where all her friends were seated with nearly empty glasses in front of them.

  “I see you’ve gotten a head start on me.” Felicia grinned at Elizabeth Collins, her best friend since college. Elizabeth had turned forty-five a few months earlier but didn’t look a day over thirty-five, due to some really good genes, some strategic sculpting and monthly visits to a great hairdresser.

  In response to Felicia’s jab, Elizabeth pursed her lips and made a fart noise. To which every one of Felicia’s friends hooted as if she’d told the world’s best joke.

  Felicia rolled her eyes. “How long have they been here?”r />
  “I think since about five o’clock. Betty’s already met all the dancers. She has their names and phone numbers in her little notebook.”

  Felicia looked down the row of her friends to the short, pudgy librarian with glasses. Betty was the oldest of her friends and didn’t try to hide it. She looked every bit of fifty years, right down to the short bob with bangs she wore her graying brown hair in. “Betty?”

  Betty lifted the notebook over her head and yelled, “Oo-rah!”

  They all burst into laughter again.

  Beth patted the seat next to her. “Sit down, honey. We saved you a seat.”

  Felicia glanced from the seat at the dancing bar toward the scantily clad young man on top. There couldn’t have been more than five feet in distance between them. She’d be close enough to catch a flying drop of sweat…or get soaked in an errant wave of pheromones.

  “Why don’t we move over there?” She pointed to a dark corner that was just about as far away from the dancers as they could get.

  Beth grabbed her hand and yanked her into the chair. “Not a chanch, honey,” she slurred. “We’re stayin’ right here. I still have tonsh of one-dollar bills left.” She reached into her purse and pulled a wrinkled bill from its messy depths. Lifting it over her head she waved it, hooting at the nearest dancer.

  Felicia’s eyes widened and she tried to grab the bill. “Beth, that’s a twenty!”

  A cheer arose around the dancing bar as two dancers descended on Beth. They stood right on the brink of the bar, their naked toes dangling over the rounded edge. One of them pumped his bulging crotch toward Beth’s face and the other one turned, pushing a well-shaped behind toward her.

  Beth watched the dancers with avid eyes, her mouth slack. The twenty-dollar bill drooped sadly in her hand…probably wilting from all the steam coming off the stage.

  Despite that train-wreck feeling, Felicia couldn’t look away.

  Finally, the women around the bar started chanting, “Ben-ny, Ben-ny, Ben-ny!” Beth came back to life. She jerked and grinned, licking her thin lips, and reached to stuff the twenty into the Speedo of the dancer who’d been shoving his package into her face.

  Her fingers dipped pretty low into the Speedo. And they dallied a long time. So long, in fact that poor Benny had to pull her hand out of his pants.

  He was more than a good sport about it though. He grinned at her and lifted her fingers to his mouth, licking the tips of each one before he let the hand go. The ensuing shrieks of delight from the ladies around the bar made Felicia want to duck down in her chair.

  But underneath the embarrassment she was aware of something else that surprised her. She found herself clenching her thighs together on a tingle of something warm and delightful. Something she hadn’t felt for quite a while.

  Something that felt suspiciously like lust.

  “It’s the birthday girl’s turn. Lap dance!” Bliss yelled. This startling declaration was followed by a resounding cheer from the crowd.

  Felicia looked around with wide eyes. Women who she’d never clapped eyes on before were grinning at her, whistling and clapping their hands.

  A twenty appeared in front of her face. “Time to dive into the water, Polly Pureheart.”

  Felicia tried to get out of her chair so she could run away. She figured once she got into her car they’d have trouble catching her—worst case she could probably lose them in the warehouse district…

  Somebody grabbed her chair and yanked it backward.

  The bar erupted into chanting. “Lap dance…lap dance…lap dance!”

  The blood drained from Felicia’s face. She didn’t know what a lap dance was, but it didn’t sound good.

  A shadow fell over her.

  The chanting stopped as suddenly as it had started. A collective sigh settled over the room.

  The music changed, becoming even more heated, deeper, and sensual. The pulse of it beat in her veins, changing the tempo of her heartbeat. She fixed her gaze on the floor, panicking.

  A long, muscular pair of legs appeared in front of her. Thankfully they were clad in well-worn jeans.

  The jeans had holes in them.

  Lots of holes.

  Some of them in extremely strategic places.

  Her gaze faltered at the juncture of two muscular, denim-clad thighs, where the crotch of the jeans should have been. What was there instead was a hole, frayed at the edges. Showing through the hole was a silky yellow patch of fabric, sporting a Road Runner in the center.

  Felicia looked into a pair of sparkling blue eyes, fringed in thick dark-gold lashes.

  He was laughing at her reaction to his Road Runner. He winked at her and her heart literally thumped against her chest.

  Suddenly a large, square hand appeared in front of her face.

  The crowd went crazy. The women around her screamed and started chanting, “Go for it!”

  She tried to lean back, away from the hand, but Bliss wasn’t gonna let her get away with that. She grabbed Felicia’s arm and pulled her out of her chair. Before Felicia knew what was happening, the hunk on the stage had grabbed her hand and she was pulled onto the stage with him.

  She hit his broad, naked chest with an undignified “Umph!” and felt the jolt to her system through her whole body.

  The first thing she noticed was his scent. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. He was all warm musk overlaid by clean sweat and something that she couldn’t quite identify which reminded her of hot sex.

  The next thing she noticed was the smooth warmth of his naked chest. His well-formed pecs were right in front of her nose, a small triangle of dark-gold hairs nestled between them.

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body into his, swaying to the decadent pulse of the music. Felicia held herself stiffly in his arms at first, but the combination of hot, sexy man and the throbbing beat of the music quickly overcame her natural resistance and her muscles softened, molding to his.

  She closed her eyes and swayed with him, feeling every hard line of his long body against hers. His hands slid over her back and shoulders, soothing, caressing, until her muscles felt like the softest butter under his fingers.

  Felicia’s hands moved over his body, sliding across his narrow waist, up his sides, and across his broad chest. They trailed past the strong shoulders and thick neck, to a square-jawed face with just the hint of dark-gold stubble across it.

  The room erupted as he lowered his head and laid his lips over her throat.

  Felicia gasped at the moist heat of his mouth resting on her pulse and threw her head back. His tongue slipped out from between his teeth and he licked her.

  Feeling as if she’d been drugged, Felicia pressed herself against the hard thigh between her legs, humping it shamelessly as her body heated and pulsed with need.

  Sharp teeth replaced the hot tongue on her skin. He bit her, gently, and then followed the tiny nip with another swipe of his hot tongue.

  The room fell away. Felicia was aware of the music and the room full of friends and strangers only as a dull throb at the back of her consciousness. It disappeared under the all-encompassing aura of the man in her arms.

  His was a sensual sphere, filled with promises and forbidden delights. And Felicia suddenly realized she wanted it all.

  Her hands slid to his buttocks. They were firm and round and filled her hands nicely. His lips moved down her throat to the tops of her breasts, leaving a warm tingle of sexual awareness in their wake.

  Felicia groaned and pulled him closer, grinding against the long, hard length beneath the denim…and the Road Runner. The thought made her giggle and he pulled away, looking down on her with bright blue eyes.

  When he spoke she almost came just from the sound of it. His voice was warm and smoky, like the best whiskey running through her system. “You like my big bird?”

  She stared back at him, her smile sliding away under the intensity of his look. She was too lust-fogged to come back with anything resem
bling wit.

  His mouth was wide, his teeth white between generous lips. His dark-gold hair was cut short, curling softly around his ears and at the back of his head. When he looked at her his jaw worked as if he was fighting some emotion. His tongue slid across his lips, making her pussy clench with need.

  Felicia’s eyes widened. “Who are you?”

  His generous mouth curved upward, his eyes sparkling with humor. He lowered his lips toward her ear just as the music in the bar stopped, signaling a break for the dancers. “I’m a man who thinks you are as sexy as hell.”

  His tongue slid around the edge of her ear and he stepped away. The smile was gone. In its place was a look of such smoldering heat Felicia thought her knees would give out. He offered her his hand and she looked down at it, confused.

  “Can I help you down off the stage?”

  “Oh…” She fidgeted nervously. “Yes. Thank you.”

  He handed her down to her friends and turned away.

  Felicia watched him saunter toward the bar. She found herself wishing he’d turn and look at her one last time.

  As if he’d heard her thoughts, he turned and his eyes held the promise of delights to come.

  Felicia jerked her gaze away and dropped back into her chair beside the stage. She was determined to get out of the bar as quickly as possible. He was at least twenty years younger than she was and obviously only interested in one thing.

  There was nothing but trouble in the thoughts she was having.

  And she was much too old to get embroiled in that type of relationship.

  Chapter Two

  Bliss hung on Felicia’s arm, nearly dragging her down to the ground. The woman was about three martinis past coherent and Felicia was determined to drive her home. Bliss had her car keys in her hand and was insisting—very loudly—that she was, “Purefactlee culpable to drive my own dammmmm cure home!”