Mixing Business With Pleasure

"On with the dance! Let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet, to chase the glowing hours with flying feet."

How could I have allowed Jeffery Rush to persuade me into changing my outfit? I mean, ok, so I'm not exactly a dresser. I know that much, but when he showed up at my apartment an hour ago, he told me the long loose jeans and black shirt had to go. I mean what the hell? Isn't clubbing about letting loose and wilding out while gyrating around sweaty bodies? I don't know too much, but I know I'd like to do it comfortably. Not primped up like a Barbie doll, practically falling on my ass in heels that are too tall and thin for comfort.

But, like any gullible fool, he talked me into the extremely tight mini jeans skirt, knee length high heeled black boots, and an overly tight black halter top that exposes too much cleavage and back. Not to mention my booty is poking out in that skirt. I feel like a cheap side street prostitute. God, I hate myself right now. He even forced me to wear my hair down, which I rarely ever do and put on make-up that practically added years to my age. Shoot me now, because I know I'm going to die from utter humiliation tonight.

Finally getting past the bouncers and the mass frenzy which consisted of a swarm of paparazzi and reporters, our group which contained Jeffery, Tameka Hill, Mallory Stewart, Brian Walters and yours truly finally made it into the congested night club.

I'm walking on egg shells as I feel my guard go up, glaring around the large club in awe. The décor and everything about the place screams Timbaland. It is definitely his style. It has a cool, laid back, techno meets modern hip-hop slash rap vibes to it. It is definitely something spectacular. Taking in the colorful lighting scheme, I spot the bar off in the distance, and realize that I desperately need a drink of some sort. I have to remember there's work tomorrow, so I can't afford to get drunk, but I'm really craving a screw driver right now.

Feeling a hand on my bare shoulder, I turn to see a smiling Jeffery. I'd be lying if I say he isn't handsome. There's just something so alluring about him. He's mixed since his mom is Caucasian and his dad is African American. His hair's a dark curly brown and his complexion's an extremely light brown, almost tan. He has the most beautiful grey eyes I've ever seen, and a smile that could light up an entire Christmas tree. Yeah, the guy is definitely a looker, and he's taller than me so that's a plus right? Gosh what am I even thinking here?

"Girl, lighten up. You're so tense! Don't worry babe. You look gorgeous tonight! You're out to kill them girl, with those long legs and dangerous curves." He compliments me and I can't help the slight blush that adorns my face.

"Thanks Jeff!" I shout over the blaring music.

"You're welcome Z! Anytime. We got ourselves a table so come on!" Before I get a chance to respond, he's already grabbing my hand, pulling me along with him and the other employees to a booth at the far corner of the club. I'm happy we found there, because it doesn't seem to be as congested as the front and center area of the club. We all slide into the booth, getting ready for what I hope to be a fun filled night.

Looking at my fellow co-workers, I smirk a bit. They're all dressed up for a night out on the town. Brian is the Latin metrosexual, Tameka is the Tyra Banks super model clone, and Mallory is the classic twist between, Avril Lavigne meets pop princess Britney Spears. I also noticed Mallory and Justin around the workplace flirting a lot. Hmmm, I wonder if something is going on between them.

"So do you think Justin is here since this is Tim's club?" Tameka asks eyeing everyone.

"He should be. He's probably in V.I.P." Mallory responds a little too quickly for my liking while flipping back her long strawberry blonde hair. She seems so sure of herself most times. I guess I'm just grudging because I lack that confidence that practically oozes out of her very core.

"Well I think if he knew we were here, he'd have a fit since it's the middle of the working week. You know how Mr. Timberlake hates slackers on the job." Brian jokes, causing everyone to agree.

"Either way, if he's here we can be here too. He is the boss after all." Tameka interjects.

"Yeah Tam, but that's why he can get away with this shit. We on the other hand would have to pay dearly, if we show up late or hung over tomorrow for work." I can't help but smile. Jeff is always the level headed and logical one in the group.

"I don't care. I just need to get my drink on." Brian waves his hands in the air, signaling a waitress over.

This is my cue to exit. I can't sit here and listen to them talk about our boss like that. I mean it's bad enough I have to see the man most of my day knowing I could never have him. Why listen to some lacking intellectual conversation about him too?

"Excuse me." I yell over the music, sliding out of the booth and standing up.

"Where are you off to Z?" Jeff asks me curiously.

"Uh, the ladies room." I lie. I really need to get away from them. I can feel their stares. I'm almost certain, some, if not all of them don't like me very much. I don't exactly fit in. I'm just going to head to the bar or something.

"Ok, well don't get lost or be gone too long." Jeff smiles at me apologetically. He knows me and I'm glad that someone other than my brother understands me a little.

Nodding, I leave the group and make my way over to the bar, instantly beckoning to the bartender so he can prepare a screw driver for me.

Sitting on one of the stools, he comes back with my drink and I gulp it down anxiously, as I continue to take in the moving bodies around me. The music is good, and the setting for the mood is perfect, but all I can think about is curling up in front of my television, digging into a bucket of ice cream as I watch reruns of everybody loves Raymond or friends or something. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

Ten or so screw drivers later, I'm feeling a hell of a buzz. Well, I think it's ten. I wasn't really counting. I kind of lost count. The point is alcohol really helps you loosen up. Right now, I'm feeling like I could take on just about anyone and anything. It's a wonderful feeling that I don't experience too often. I'm not much of a drinker, so I can almost bet I'm most definitely drunk right now.

Stumbling in my high heels, I steady myself and head over to the partially dark dance floor in search of my co-workers. I notice Jeff dancing with an unknown and unnamed red head. I also spot Brian close by dancing with Tameka. Mallory is no where in site and I'm having a hard time standing straight as well as seeing clearly. Note to self, no more drinking for a very long time to come.

Deciding that the only way to partly sober up is by sweating out the toxins from my system, I begin to dance by myself somewhere in the middle of the dance floor.

It's not long before the music completely engulfs my senses and I'm lost in my drunken stupor feeling a sense of bliss mixed with intoxication and the slight urge to pass out.

I'm not sure how long I've been dancing, but I've definitely worked up a sweat grinding my hips like there's no tomorrow. What really catches my attention and forces me to sober up a tad bit, is when I feel a pair of masculine hands wrap around my waist from behind. What the fuck?

Tensing, I try to move away from who ever the stranger is, but barely make half a step since he has a tight grip on me. Gulping down hard, I can feel my nerves take over. I don't like the fact that he's touching me so intimately. That means he's feeling my less than perfect curves on my less than perfect body.

Bending forward, he pushes back some of my curly hair with his face before he places his lips to my ears. "Can I have this dance?" he drawls out in a raspy whisper. His hot breath on my neck is driving my hormones up the wall. What the hell is wrong with me? I don't even know this person. Damn it, has it been that long since I've been laid? I'm such a sad case.

I can smell the alcohol on his breath and I'm guessing he drank as much as I did if not more. I also find his sent to be quite familiar, but maybe I'm just delusional.

Deciding it wouldn't hurt, I shrug and begin dancing with my stranger, too intoxicated to really care anyway. It also beats dancing by myself. I can feel his body press up against mine as he inhales sharply, moving his hips to my rhythm. Damn, this is like some pleasurable sin, but I'm enjoying it too much to protest.

****

I know, maybe I shouldn't be doing this right now, but I just couldn't resist. It's really hard to see anything when you're drunk in a practically dark club with endless bodies moving around, but I really, honestly, couldn't resist.

I only stepped out of V.I.P for a brief moment, to ask the bartender downstairs to send up some more bottles since we were running low when I saw her. I mean, I don't know who she is, or where she came from, but it's hard to miss her with how tall she is. Plus, how could I not notice that round firm ass? It's practically pushing out of the tight skirt she's wearing just waiting to be smacked. God, she's thick too...no, she's voluptuous. Hell, she's not my type, but I don't care right now. I think she's gorgeous even under the dim lights. Her sweet, light chocolate brown skin looks extremely edible as it glows from her partially soaked figure. I wonder how she tastes. If I could fuck her right here, right now, I would. I know it sounds sick to say, but I honestly without a second thought, would do her right here on the dance floor. I'd put good use to her cushioned form. Damn, I'm getting hard just thinking about it.

She keeps pushing her ass into my crotch tempting me to spank it like the naughty girl she's being. I don't know how much more of this I can take. Maybe I should just leave. But the high level of testosterone running through my system won't let me. I'm glued to this sexy temptress and couldn't move even if I tried. I don't want to try really. I might fall over flat on my face. How embarrassing would that be?

Getting lost in our seductive dance, my hands take on a mind of their own as they begin exploring. ‘Uh...I wish she wouldn't tempt me like that.' My thoughts scream out to me as I release a low groan. Moving around her waist, my hands leisurely trail up to her stomach noticing how flat and surprisingly toned it feels. Hmm, maybe she works out? I'm not sure. I don't care too much either.

All I'm focused on right now is grinding into that bubble butt as we sway to the pulsating music. She has a nice rack too, but the ass has me hypnotized.

I'm almost certain she's as drunk as I am, because she's really wilding out right now. I'm having a little difficulty keeping up with her, but I don't let that faze me. Shit, I'm Justin Timberlake; I can dance my ass off if the situation calls for it.

Turning around to face me, she opens her legs over mine, grinding into me from the front. I watch intently as I absorb how her short skirt rides up her tight thighs. This is torture I'm gladly willing to endure. It's just too sensual for words. Who knew big women could work like that? Well honestly, she's not all that big. She's what I like to call ‘bootylicious.' Ok yeah, I got it from that destiny's child song so sue me. She is anyway. I'm an ass man and I know a succulent ass when I see one. Sighing loudly, I lean in to whisper in her ears again since the music is immensely loud.

"No teasing sweetheart." I coo into her ears, feeling her smile against my chest. Oh, she's aware of what she's doing. Damn, she's a freak. I like that a lot.

Pushing her back a bit, I try to get a good look at her, but can't seem to focus or see through this terrible lighting system Tim has going. I guess it's all part of the mood he was going for.

Whatever it is, it's annoying as fuck.

Plus, her long curly hair is kind of blocking her face.

"I think you like that I'm teasing you." She responds in a light giggle, as her hands graze over my growing arousal. Ah, naughty, naughty. I'll have to make her pay for that.

Smiling slyly, I bend forward and place a light kiss on her neck, feeling her shudder against me. I love the effect I have on women. It's very rewarding and a major boost to the ego.

Now, if only I could take her home with me tonight...

"Z? Is that you?" I hear someone's voice interrupt my thoughts and notice her pause from the whining she was doing on me. No, don't stop! Not now...I'm going to get blue balls after this; I just know it.

"Huh?" She blurts out and I instantly freeze. I know that lost, bewildered voice. It's hauntingly familiar.

"Jahzara? Is that you over there? Come on girl. It's getting late so we're leaving. We have work tomorrow." The person responds and I can already feel my palms sweating as my heart beat increases. Oh shit...this is not good. This is terrible. I know that male's voice too. It sounds like...Jeffery Rush, one of my employees.

Halting my movements, I glance down at the woman in my arms and my eyes grow wide with shock, when a passing light shines over her flustered face.

Fuck...fuck! This is bad.

"Jahzara?" I choke out in a slight whisper but she catches it nonetheless because she's now staring directly into my blues with perplexity.

"What? Ju...Justin?" She slurs when realization finally takes over. "Oh my god!" She belts, pushing away from me instantly stumbling back. "Oh my god!"

I hold unto her arm to steady her and myself. She looks absolutely drunk and out of her right mind. Her eyes are glassed over and even though she's recognized me, her brain doesn't seem to be processing the severity of this situation.

Shit, I just had a particularly sexual encounter with one of my employees. This is a disaster and it's only going to get worse. What's that old saying...‘Never mix business with pleasure?' Ah yes, because nothing good ever comes out of the situation in the end even though it was an honest mistake.

"Oh my god!" She clasps her hands over her mouth as I notice Jeffery coming over. Just great. This is just what I need. And what the hell are they even doing here on a work night? Either way this is the least of my worries right now.

"Jahzara didn't you hear me...." He trails off when he diverts his gaze to me. "Oh Mr. Timberlake! What a surprise. We thought you were in V.I.P." Jeff beams, pulling a still stunned Jahzara into his embrace. Looking down at her he smirks lightly. "Leave it to you to get drunk babe. I'll have to do some damage control. Don't worry Mr. Timberlake. She'll be as good as new tomorrow." He assures me and all I can do is hold a tight smile to prevent myself from screaming with frustration.

I know my senses aren't fully there, but I can't believe Jahzara of all people turned me on like that. And where did she think she was going with that overly sexy outfit? I didn't even know she had a body like that. It's always hidden under the baggy pant suits she wears to work. Holy shit, I'm going insane here. I can't take much more of this. I know this is so wrong. Is it wrong to still want to fuck her? And why am I feeling like this could be a good thing? Get a grip Justin. You can't think this way about an employee. It's morally and ethically wrong.

"It's ok Jeff. I was just heading back up to V.I.P after ordering some more drinks from the bar since we were running low upstairs. Just take her home and make sure she's ok. I'll see you all in work tomorrow." I need to get the fuck out of here and fast.

"Oh.my.god." I hear Jahzara mutter yet again. Well shit, she really is drunk and ‘out of it'. She's barely standing right now.

Eyeing her strangely, Jeff shrugs and pulls her along with him as he starts to walk away. "What am I going to do with you Z?" He talks to her, trying to hold up her body weight. "See you tomorrow Mr. Timberlake." He calls out, waving at me as he disappears into the mass of bumping bodies.

Waving him off, I take in a rather long and deep unstable breath. Shit, this is not good. This is terrible. I wonder if she'll remember anything tomorrow. But damn, she was working that skirt.

"God, what's wrong with me!?" I yell over the music scolding myself, as I walk back over to join Tim, Trace and my other friends and entourage in the V.I.P section.

Placing my hands over my face, I pick up my pace as I hear the DJ switch the track over to Jay holiday's ‘Bed'. What the fuck? Like seriously, they're killing me here.

Groaning loudly at the choice of song, I stomp past the bouncers and up the stairs noticing Trace's and Tim's questionable glares. I guess I look pissed off or something.

"What happened to you man?" Trace finally voices as I sit next to him. Turning to face him I bow my head in shame as I replay the previous events in my mind. Finally locking eyes with my best friend I shake my head sadly.

"I'm seriously fucked man."

****

Quote by: George Gordon Byron, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage