Whisper Through The Pain (A Novella) by Renee Wynn

mindless sex wouldn’t erase Melissa from his thoughts or his heart.  How far was he willing to go to forget his troubles for just a little while?
    “To go dancing. There’s a wonderful night club in this hotel.” She rubbed against him again and actually purred.
    “Not tonight.” He looked at his friend who wore a sly grin on his face. “I’m sure Matthew would love to go.”
    He held up his hand. “Oh, no. I don’t dance. It’s not something I’ve ever accomplished.”
    Matthew and he had been friends since their freshman year in college. Besides his cousin Sheila, no one knew him as well. There was a smirk on his face that indicated he knew the woman beside him was in serious heat.
    He was as tall as Jake with premature salt-and-peppered hair. He was fit. Exercise was his drug of choice.
    His fiancée had died suddenly from a brain aneurysm when he was twenty-eight years old. That had been almost twelve years ago. Jake hadn’t seen him in a relationship since then. He was never without woman companionship, however never with the same woman twice. But it didn’t keep women from trying to stake a claim. He was rich, handsome and gallant. Melissa had told him once that besides Matthew’s good looks, it was the gallant part that drew the women like bees.
    Jake frowned. “You’re only one year older than me.”
    Matthew chuckled. “That said.” He drained the champagne in his glass. “I’m heading up to my room.” He stood. “I’m flying out tomorrow morning so I’ll say my good-byes now.” He saluted everyone at the table. “I’ll see you back in L.A., Jake.”
    The older gentleman got to his feet also. “Wait up, Mr. Connor. I’ll walk out with you. I told my wife I’d be home an hour ago.”
    Jake stood and the man shook his hand. “Mr. Sorenson, I’ll send the final papers to you overnight when they are completed.”
    “Thank you.”
    He hesitated, glanced at Bridget, and then back to Jake. “Okay. Good-night then.”
    Jake signaled for the waiter and sat back down. “Bring me a bottle of your top shelf scotch.”
    The server tilted his head in acknowledgement and walked away.
    Bridget flung her hair over her shoulder. “Scotch? That’s a little strong for this late in the evening, don’t you think?” She eyed him curiously.
    “If you want more champagne, I’ll order another bottle.”
    “No, scotch is fine.”
    The silence hung between them.
    The waiter returned with the bottle, opened it, and started to pour. Jake stopped him. “Thank you. I’ll take it from here.”
    Jake stood with the bottle in his hand. Bridget came to her feet also and smoothed her tight red dress around her slim hips. She waited. Without exchanging words, they moved toward the elevators. 
    At the door of his suite, Jake stepped back and allowed her to enter. Closing the door, he moved to the mini-bar, took a glass and filled it to the brim with scotch. He gulped it down in one swift movement.
    “Whoa, lover.” She laughed. “I don’t want you drunk. At least not until I’ve sampled the goods.” Bridget ran her hands seductively down his back. He turned around, shrugged out of his suit jacket, loosened his tie and threw both of them on a chair.  She pulled the shirt from his pants and proceeded to unbutton it. In her haste, buttons fell to the floor.
    “Damn. I can’t wait.” Her breathing was erratic and deep.
    She shimmed. The dress dropped around her feet. She kicked it from around her ankles.Jake stepped back, narrowed his gaze and observed her for a long moment.
    Before him stood a well-endowed woman with curves in the right places, sexy and probably damn good in the sheets. She was braless. He surmised she had some work done to enhance her breasts. They were ripe. Her areolas hard and pointed.  A slight pulse shot through his dick. But none of the full-blown hardness he expected.
    She ran her hands down his chest and flicked his nipples. He stood completely still. She was in heat, at a