Page 2 of Desperately Delicate Viper

The teasing smile on his plump pink lips slips when his gaze lands on me. His icy blue eyes track my path around the bar towards him, full of curious assessment and something much hotter. It’s possible the latter is wishful thinking, but I’m arrogant enough to know I’m better looking than most of the men in this club tonight. I’ll happily pay his regular price, but if he likes what he sees, all the better.

I don’t pause until I reach him, shouldering through his little mob of panting fans and stopping right in front of him.

He was stunning from feet away, but up close I can hardly blame the idiots who are seconds away from dropping to their knees to lick his shoes and pay him for the privilege of it. Hell, I might just join them. His dark hair has a purposefully messy style, and paired with his sharp cheekbones and round eyes, it makes him look like he belongs on a high fashion runway rather than selling his ass in a place like Wonderland. He spreads his legs a little wider, both his feet still planted on the stools in front of him, his seat on the bar top putting him eye to eye with me.

“Hey there, handsome.” He tilts his head, his eyes wandering from top to bottom, no doubt calculating the price of my suit and the Rolex on my wrist.

I step closer until I’m practically between his legs, sliding my hands into my pockets to keep myself from running them over his smooth thighs or teasing the outline of his stiff nipples through his tight white tank top. I lean in, telling myself it’s so he’ll be able to hear me over the music, but if I’m being honestwith myself, I just want the excuse to feel the warmth radiating off of his skin and breathe in the scent of sugar that’s clinging to him.

“You have a name, beautiful?” I ask, the rest of the club fading away around me as I get caught up in the snare of his attention.

He slides forward so his ass is perched on the very edge of the bar, bringing his lips to my ear. The hot rush of his breath down my neck makes my balls tighten and my cock ache.

“Anders,” he says, the purr of his voice just as mesmerizing as every other part of him. “I’m not cheap.” He touches the tip of his finger to the inside of my wrist, right above the gold band of my watch, then drags it slowly up my forearm. Goose bumps pebble in the wake of his touch. “But something tells me you’re a man who appreciates high-end things anyway. Am I right?”

“How much?” I’ve already decided that there isn’t a number he could say that would make me turn around and walk away. I’m going to have Anders tonight, whatever it costs.

“A thousand, plus the cost of the hotel room. Cash app payment only.”

I frown momentarily, not at the amount but at the request for payment through a cash app. But I’m not about to give him business advice if that’s how he prefers to handle things.

“Done,” I answer without hesitation.

The smile on Anders’s lips tugs a few inches wider, and he moves his hand from my arm to my chest, playfully toying with the buttons on my shirt as he runs his nose along the stubbled edge of my jaw, bringing his lips within half an inch of mine.

“Perfect. Let’s have some fun.”

Chapter 2

ANDERS

Atsomepoint,menall started to look the same to me. It didn’t matter if they were blond or brunette, short or tall, thick or rippling with muscles, they all looked at me with identical stares of detached hunger, like ravenous beasts salivating for a meal. I wasn’t a man they felt passion and desire for, I was a lamb, and they were wolves… at least that’s how they see it. I grew numb to it years ago. I wrapped cynicism around myself like a cloak and learned to look back at them with the same kind of detachment, to see them as nothing but a paycheck. They can’t use me or hurt me because I’m the one using them.

They might put their hands on my body, but they can never touch me.

The man standing in front of me, his slacks and white button-up both clearly tailored rather than the off-the-rack trash worn by everyone else in the club, might be well dressed, but he’s no different from anyone else. For half a second when our eyes first met, I thought I saw something there—interest that went beyondlust for my body. But silly fantasies like that are better left for when I’m alone in my bed at night dreaming of a different life.

Only a few more weeks.

Twenty days, to be exact, and then I’ll be free. The fucker won’t have anything left to hold over my head, and I’ll be able to walk away and never look back. I eye the gold Rolex on my date’s wrist again, guilt and desperation warring in my chest.

He looks up from his phone, turning the screen around to show me the confirmation that his payment went through. The username along the top says LucaM. I lick my lips and force all thoughts about the future and what it would feel like to beseenby someone into a familiar box in the back of my mind, locking them up tight.

“Thanks, Luca,” I purr. “Or do you prefer I call you something else?Sirmaybe?Daddy?” I’ve had years of practice hiding the way bile rises in my throat at the latter suggestion.

He drags the soft pad of his thumb along the edge of my jaw so lightly that it sends a shiver down my spine. “Luca is fine,” he says. “Although we might have to talk about what I can call you, because Andersjust doesn’t do you justice.”

I shrug, putting my hands on the smooth, sticky surface of the bar top, preparing to hop down. “Call me whatever you want. It’s your dime.”

A curious expression flickers over his face, but he doesn’t say anything. His hands land on my hips and I open my mouth to tell him that he needs to take me to a hotel room before he gets handsy with me. But, to my surprise, he doesn’t go in for a kiss, he doesn’t slide his hands down to grope my ass, he doesn’t press himself up against me and make a lewd comment about the hardness of his cock. No, LucaM with the multi-thousand dollar watch and tailored suit helps me off the bar, keeping his hands on me just long enough to ensure that I’m steady on my feet before he lets me go and slides them back into his pockets.

I let out a surprised laugh and then stoop down to pick up my tattered messenger bag, looping it around my neck and tilting my chin in the direction of the exit.

“Lead the way.”

I brace myself for him to wrap his hand possessively around the back of my neck, digging his fingers in just a little too roughly, testing the limits of my self-control as I fight off the urge to elbow him in the ribs and put a little space between us. It’s always a prelude to a night of fucking that goes exactly the same way—too rough, too bruising, numbing all the parts of me that want to bite back. But Luca doesn’t grab me, at least not like that.

He rests his hand against the small of my back, using just enough pressure to let me know he’s there and not about to lose me in the crowd as he leads me through the sea of people churning all around us to the hypnotic beat of the music. His touch is warm, possessive without being aggressive, and exactly the way I used to dream that a man would touch me back when I was naive enough to dream.

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