Graduation Read online

  Graduation

  Marie Carnay

  Book 5 in the Degree After Dark series. It is advisable to read the books in order to get the most enjoyment from the series.

  Leah is graduating with a Ph.D. in math. She’s lined up a stuffy corporate job, traded in her combat boots for heels, and even donned a fancy dress for one last party. She steps out onto the dance floor, ready to lose herself in the rhythm. But instead of sick beats, she finds him. The man whose touch had burned her alive in the library eons ago—marking her forever, body and soul. The one she couldn’t forget. The one who’d gotten away. Maybe graduation isn’t the end, but a whole new beginning.

  Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom (or other rooms) doors here!

  A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Graduation

  Marie Carnay

  Chapter One

  “My boots would look better with this dress.”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “I’m not. I’m serious. Combat boots and organza look great together.”

  “Oh, come on, Leah, it’s graduation! We’ve got shiny new Ph.D.’s and I’ve been dying to check out this club.” Michelle glanced at Leah’s feet and smirked. “Besides, you need to get used to heels. You’ll be wearing them every day.”

  “No, I won’t. I’m back office. You know, sitting in front of a computer all day, working code. If I’m expected to wear heels for that, they can hire someone else.”

  “But you’re working at a hedge fund.”

  “Yeah? And? I’m a quantitative analyst. I’ll be pushing numbers around and doing research all day. I’m the little woman behind the wizard.”

  “Oh. I thought—”

  “That it’d be sexy and exciting?” Leah laughed. “Not so much. Not for me anyway. But that’s just the way I like it. Give me a rickety desk in the basement as long as it comes with a decent computer and a fat paycheck and I’ll be thrilled. Beyond thrilled. Ecstatic.”

  “You? Ecstatic? That’d be new.”

  Leah rolled her eyes and looked down at her feet. Michelle’s shoes glinted and shone in the streetlight—the rose-gold patent leather snaking over her toes in a sweeping arc to meet the stiletto heel. But the ankle strap dug in and the height made her entire body pitch forward, squishing her toes into a pinched wedge. How does she wear these?

  As she lifted her foot to rub her ankle, Michelle grabbed her arm and tugged, sending Leah into a stumbling stagger that landed her smack against the broad planes of a man’s chest.

  “Easy there.” Hands wrapped around Leah’s bare arms, picked her up and plopped her back down on her feet. She blinked her gaze into focus and saw a hulking beast of a man holding onto her and smirking. “Have a bit too much to drink at the pre-party, ladies?” the bouncer asked as he let her go.

  Leah ran her hands up her arms, brushing his residue off her skin. “No,” she snapped at him. “Unfortunately I’m sober. I just can’t walk in these damn things.”

  The bouncer laughed and waved her in through the door. “Yeah, right, and I’m a ballerina. Have fun, you two.”

  Leah cursed under her breath and stomped into the club with Michelle laughing on her heels.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “It’s hilarious. You should have seen the outrage plastered all over your face. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen you mad that someone called you a drunk.”

  “Well…you have a point.” Leah shook her head to clear the bad mood and forced a smile. I need to lighten up and hit the bar. She turned toward it, but Michelle stopped her to wave at the club’s décor. Like a kid at Christmas, Michelle’s eyes lit up at every detail—the iridescent walls shimmering with strands of giant gold confetti, the acrylic dance floor lit from below with pale yellow lights, and the bar with row after row of top-shelf liquor.

  “Check this place out! It’s even nicer than I expected.”

  Leah looked around and the first twinges of a headache throbbed behind her eyes. “I should go. You’re in. You’ll find some hot guy in a minute. You don’t need me.”

  “Oh no you don’t.” Michelle hooked her arm through Leah’s and pulled her toward the coat check. “Let’s drop our stuff and hit the bar. I owe you a drink since I dragged you here.”

  “You owe me three.”

  “Fine, three. Anything to put you in a good mood. We’re here to celebrate, remember?”

  Leah nodded and let Michelle steer her through the club, first to coat check, then to the bar that was swarming with people. Michelle leaned in, her blonde curls covering Leah’s face. “Let’s use our magic and snag some seats. I see a group of guys over there. Let’s wiggle our way in.”

  Leah took a deep breath and followed Michelle as she shimmied and squeezed through the crowd. This is so not my scene. Everyone’s so…clean. This music…I think it’s top forty. With a groan, Leah reached out and grabbed hold of the burnished wood bar, squishing between the bodies by sheer force of will. Thank god for liquor. With a step onto the bar rail, she hoisted herself as far over the bar as she could, searching for a nearby bottle. One leg stuck out behind her, and her waist curved over the bar, rib cage pressed against wood grain, arm outstretched as her fingers scraped the neck of the vodka.

  As her hand wrapped around the bottle, someone else’s wrapped around her wrist.

  “Can I help you?”

  She looked up to see Sean eyeing her as though she’d gone mad.

  “Sean?”

  “Leah?”

  “Hey…” Leah yanked her wrist out of Sean’s hand and she slipped off the bar rail and back onto the floor. “You work here?”

  “Yeah, just started.”

  “I thought you had a teaching gig this summer.”

  “I do, but I need to make some extra cash. With Ben graduating, I’m out a roommate.”

  At the mention of Ben’s name, Leah winced. She’d tried to be friendly after their breakup, but he’d given her the cold shoulder. Sean had too. “How is he?”

  “Ben? Why do you care?”

  Leah opened her mouth to start a fight, but Michelle popped up next to her. “Sean! Hey! I heard you worked here. Any chance you can fix us up with a couple of strong ones? Leah’s being a real party pooper.”

  Sean smiled as he grabbed two glasses and filled them up. “No problem, Michelle. It’s good to see you. How’ve you been?”

  “Oh, you know, bored and single. How about you?”

  “The same. My shift’s over at two, wanna stay ‘til closing? There’s an all-night diner down the street. We could grab a bite.”

  Leah felt Michelle’s whole body smile next to her. “That sounds great. As long as you keep the vodka coming.” She slid Leah’s empty glass toward Sean for a refill. As he slid it back to Leah, he gave her a look—the get-lost variety—and she took the hint.

  “Hey, Michelle, I think I’m going to walk around, maybe check out the DJ.” She drained her glass in one long, fluid gulp. “Hit me, will you, Sean?”

  Sean raised an eyebrow, but as Michelle ran her hand up his forearm, he smiled. At her. And filled Leah’s glass to the top.

  “Thanks.” Leah gave Michelle a squeeze. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  Michelle snorted, perilously close to spewing vodka everywhere. “Don’t worry, that won’t be a problem. I’ll find you before I head out, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  Leah gave her a smile, nodded at Sean, and pushed her way back through the crowd.

  Leah maneuvered through the bodies casually bouncing and swaying to the beat and found the DJ’s booth across the dance floor. One DJ rocked and swayed to the music, standing at the tables and surveying the crowd, while another unpa
cked his gear behind him. Leah squinted to look at the new guy. She took in his nose ring, the tattoo snaking up his arm and disappearing under his shirt, the chain that hung across his jeans, and smiled. He shows promise.

  She sipped her drink, watched the DJ changing of the guard, and let the alcohol permeate her brain. She loved that fogginess that clouded her mind, turned her alive, made her feel nothing and everything all at once. On Monday, she’d start a new life with a new job downtown that would keep her too busy to do anything but think. She’d be thinking all day, crunching numbers, building models, running scenarios so the big shots could make millions. She took a gulp and let the vodka burn her mouth before she swallowed. I’ll make good money and use my degree. That’s what matters. I can let the rest go.

  But as Leah looked out at all the people—at the type of people she’d be seeing a lot more of—she felt like an alien. Beautiful women in pretty dresses, men in dress shirts. And me. She looked down at her dress, at the pale-pink organza fluttering around her thighs. It draped from spaghetti straps and hung in asymmetrical panels that cascaded in layers from her waist to mid-thigh. The handful of necklaces draped around her neck, the black leather bracelets strapped to her wrists, and the rings of looping snakes and skulls covering her fingers gave the dress a needed edge. But it still seemed foreign. If only I had my boots.

  Leah raised her glass to her lips, let the alcohol pour down her throat until she drained every drop, and discarded it on a nearby ledge. With a deep breath, she braced herself to find Michelle and beg off—create a last-minute mystery illness—when the new DJ thumped the mic.

  “Hey, everybody. So, to welcome you to Haven, the boss man asked me to come and mix it up, show you all what this club is gonna do. Here goes.” He put the mic down and the bass flooded the space, a deafening thump-thump that made conversations stop and liquor ripple in every glass. The crowd turned toward the DJ and stared as a honey-nectar beat oozed from the speakers. A chest-rattling, earth-shaking punch that spilled gallons of sticky syrup all over the crowd.

  As it ramped up, as the bass hit harder, a thousand thrashing beats of enraged wings, Leah laughed out loud, screamed at the top of her lungs and rejoiced. She raised her arms in the air, let the music take her, let it carry her away into oblivion.

  She started dancing, a gentle rhythm at first as the music soaked in, saturated her pores, drowned her senses. It filled her—reverberating inside her soul—and the club disappeared. Eyes closed, body moving, she teleported to the basement across town, to the gritty wonderland she loved where the music turned her molten and she melted into the dark.

  As she danced and the music took control, the dance floor filled—suits and dresses sliding past her, a tentative rock and roll next to her abandon. As they pressed in closer and closer, she came more and more alive, more and more content, more and more whole. She needed this, needed the adrenaline of the rhythm and the bodies pressed close enough to smother her and deliver her to heaven.

  As the song ended, as the bass trailed into a whimper, the DJ hit the mic. “Welcome to Haven.” Leah opened her eyes and looked around. The lights had flicked off, replaced by laser lights shooting up from underneath the dance floor—reds and blues and greens popping up between thumping feet and mashing bodies. Arcs of LED ropes snaked along the walls and a row of mirrors on the second floor reflected the divergent light.

  She caught her reflection in the mirror—a pale woman with black hair whose skin turned blue then green then red with the pulsing light. She could have been a wave of that light, a beam of color twirling and flashing in the dark. Bodies swarmed around her as the club buzzed and hummed with a life all its own. She smiled at the sight—at all the fancy dresses being crushed, at the shirts rolled up, and the smell of sweat starting to mix with cologne and perfume.

  As she watched herself and her fellow dancers, a man caught her eye, a man who snaked his way through the crowd on a path right toward her. He stared at her, his gaze locked on hers in the mirror, and she stopped, became a statue in the middle of the chaos. What? No, it can’t be. It can’t be him.

  “Leah.” He slid up to her and it all came back. The heat and desire. Him. “You’re more beautiful than I remember.”

  He reached out and trailed his fingers down her arm and the sparks ripped off her body, leaving a path of scorched skin and burning embers in its wake.

  “Bruce…hello.”

  She turned to face him, her body a burning gash of flame on the dance floor. She could ignite the whole building, burn it down with a single wave of her hand.

  He reached out and wrapped his fingers around hers, a set of blunt matches engulfing her skin, and tugged her off the floor and toward the back. She followed, dumbstruck, as they wound their way through the bodies grinding against each other in the dark. It’s Bruce. He’s here. In the flesh. Panic began to constrict her throat, speed her heart rate, make her dizzy. Just breathe, Leah, breathe.

  The music receded as they walked, the heavy bass turning from a roar to a hum to a whisper with each step. Pushing his way through a door marked “Employees Only”, Bruce pulled Leah into a deserted hallway. Turning around, he looked her up and down, gaze stopping for a beat on her hair, her organza dress, her jewelry, and finally, her shoes.

  “Wow, Leah, you look great. Different, but great.”

  She tucked a chunk of hair behind her ear and gave a weak smile. “Thanks. It’s the shoes.” She looked down at her feet and wiggled her toes. “I guess they look nice, but I feel like an alien. How are you? It’s been a while.”

  “I’m good.” Bruce shrugged and pinched the back of his neck with his hand. “So,” he continued as he glanced at the floor, “are you celebrating something? Or just trying out a new look?”

  “Oh, I graduated today.”

  Bruce’s face brightened as he looked back up, his blue eyes sparkling like ocean waves as he smiled. “Congratulations. I mean it, Leah, that’s great. Do I have to call you doctor now?”

  Leah snorted. “No. Can you imagine? Although it would be kind of funny.” Leah searched her brain for something, anything, to say to break the tension and ease the awkwardness between them. “So what are you up to these days? Still in commercial development?”

  “Of a sorts. I’m mostly focusing on the club now though. Trying to get it off the ground, get it established.”

  Leah scrunched her eyebrows. “The club?”

  Bruce looked at her, eyes blinking in confusion. “You don’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  “Haven’s mine. I own it.”

  Leah took a step back, her body hitting the wall and stopping her retreat. “You own this place? Really?”

  “Yeah.” Bruce gave her a half-smile and shrugged.

  “Why? I mean…I didn’t think you did this sort of thing.”

  “I didn’t. But ever since that night that we…well, met…I couldn’t stop thinking about you and your music and how dancing made you feel. I started researching nightclubs, the whole scene, and decided there was a market gap. That an upscale club that played this kind of music would thrive. So I opened one.”

  Wait. What? “You…opened up a nightclub because of me?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Not for me, right? Wait, that sounded self-centered and terrible. I mean, you could have found me if you wanted to. No, that wasn’t any better. I’m— I’m done.” Leah rubbed her temples and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Hey.” His fingers grazed her arm and she jumped, her body fleeing from his matchbook hand as she opened her eyes.

  She looked at his all-American goodness—white oxford dress shirt, black pants, dress shoes. He’d picked up a few wrinkles feathering around his eyes, but other than that he looked the same—as unlike her type as a guy could get. But one touch of his skin to hers and she melted. She wanted to drape herself all over him and sink into his body.

  “Sorry.” It came out as a whisper and she looked away.

  Bruce smiled and
let his hand fall to his side. “It’s okay. But to answer your question, I did find you.”

  “When?”

  “When you didn’t show at the library, I asked around, heard you’d gotten another job. So I let it—you—go for a while. But…” he trailed off and looked up at the ceiling.

  “But what?”

  “A few months later I went back to find you’d taken a leave of absence. I checked the math department, saw you were teaching, and thought I’d find you there. But you were seeing someone. I missed my chance.” Bruce shoved his hands in his pockets and stood there, rolling up onto the balls of his feet and rocking back on his heels. “So…are you still?”

  “Still what?”

  “Seeing someone?”

  The flush rose up Leah’s cheeks, a bloodstain seeping into the seams of her skin as she glanced down at the cardinal tattoo on her ankle. “No. Not anymore.”

  “Why?”

  Leah smiled and bit her lip as she looked back up at Bruce. “He didn’t give me a spark, a rush every time we touched. He was…ordinary.”

  “Oh.”

  Leah watched as Bruce’s eyes clouded over, as his smile turned to a grimace and his shoulders tensed beneath his dress shirt. I’m doing this all wrong. With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders, straightened as tall as she could and stepped toward him, her body a breath away from his.

  “Bruce?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was such a coward. I never should have disappeared on you.”

  Bruce nodded and his shoulders sagged into the wall behind him. He looked at her, watched her with guarded eyes for a moment before he spoke. “Do you mind telling me why?”

  Leah took a deep breath and stepped back. “Honestly? You scared me half to death. The things you made me feel, the way we connected—two strangers in the stacks. It doesn’t happen like that. Believe me, I’ve tried it again just to make sure.”

  “Wh—”

  “Never mind.” She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “What I mean is, I felt it with you—that spark, that fire—it raged inside me until there was nothing left. And then you were gone, out of my life, and I freaked out. I ran. I didn’t want it—us—to end up ordinary. I wanted to remember that feeling and hold on to it forever. So I bailed. I’m…I’m a coward.”