Page 27 of Wicked Spite
Reagan
“Hey Rae!” one of the shot girls, Tammy, calls out as she passes by me with a tray of drinks. “Lover boy is looking for you.” I know she’s talking about Penn before I turn around and see him folding his tall frame to sit on one of the well-worn bar stools.
With a flick of my wrist, I slide another drink to someone and circle back to the other side of the bar. Avoiding the six-five hot fucker is a piece of cake. I motion to Tammy and instruct her to take Penn’s order. He’s not gonna go for it and I already know that, but after he left me naked on my bed, I’m not going to make anything easy for the bastard.
“Hey there, handsome,” Tammy says flirtatiously as she approaches Penn. She’s not stupid. She can size them up every single time and tell which customers have money and which ones don’t. Penn Blackwood has unlimited funds and limited morals, which is proving to be an interesting combination. “What can I get you?”
I watch from the corner of my eye, trying not to beobvious about it, as Penn looks directly at me. He smirks, and my stomach churns with anxiety and anticipation.
“Tell Reagan I’ll have whatever she recommends,” he says smoothly, never breaking eye contact with me. “Ask her to stick her finger in it. I like my shit bitter.”
“Are you…what is happening?” Tammy asks, glancing between us uncertainly. “She’s busy.”
“I’ll wait. I have so much free time it would make you sick,” Penn replies, his voice oozing confidence. “I don’t want anything that our little Rae Rae doesn’t deliver to me.”
“You’re impossible,” I mutter, cursing my luck as I walk over to make his drink. I pour a shot of whiskey over ice, adding a splash of ginger ale for good measure. Then, in a fit of spite, I lean forward and spit into the glass, knowing he’s watching my every move. I saunter over to him, and I can’t help but feel my skin heat with the way his eyes are raking over my tight shirt. For someone who didn’t fuck me when he had the chance, he’s sure looking like he’s thinking about bending me over every surface in this damn bar.
“Enjoy,” I say sarcastically, placing the drink in front of him. Penn merely smirks, raising an eyebrow at me as if to challenge my audacity.
“Is that supposed to stop me?” he asks with mocking amusement, downing the drink without hesitation. “Mm, delightful.”
I can’t help but snap at him, my temper flaring. “You’re fucking twisted, you know that?”
“Are you just now realizing that?” he replies casually, leaning back in his seat with a cocky grin.
“God, you infuriate me,” I seethe through gritted teeth. But even as I say it, I can feel a strange attraction tugging atme, drawing me toward the very danger I should be running from. And that scares the hell out of me.
“They should really upgrade you from bar back to head bartender, hellfire. The spit really hits the spot,” Penn replies, his voice calm and smooth, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. It infuriates me even more that he seems completely unfazed by my attempt to get under his skin. His eyes never leave mine, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks as our gazes stay locked.
I can’t help but wonder what it is about him that attracts me despite everything I know about his nature and family. There’s something magnetic about his presence that I can’t quite put my finger on, but I know better than to give in to these feelings. My past has taught me that getting involved with someone like Penn only leads to pain and destruction.
Also, I think he wants to kill me, so there’s that also.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” I say, forcing myself to break eye contact after setting another drink in front of him. I hope my words come across as dismissive, but there’s a tremor in my voice that betrays my emotions.
Without hesitation, he picks up the drink and takes a long gulp. My eyes widen as the glass touches his lips, unable to comprehend his audacity. His voice drips with sarcasm as he comments on its taste. “I think I’d like it better if you’d spit directly in my mouth. Could we work that out? Or is that back room type shit?” Penn says, a sinister grin spreading across his face.
He’s trying to up the ante in this little twisted game we’re playing, but it seems fitting for the man sitting before me.
“Are you happy with yourself?” I ask, forcing a smile onto my lips while my stomach churns with unease.
“Quite,” he replies, taking another sip and letting out anexaggerated sigh of satisfaction. “I must say, Reagan, your brand of hospitality is truly unparalleled.”
“Should I take that as a compliment?” I retort, my voice dripping with disdain.
“Take it however you like,” he says nonchalantly, finishing the drink and setting the glass down on the bar with a deliberate clink.
I swallow hard, my pulse quickening at his proximity. The heat of his breath fans across my face, sending shivers down my spine as I fight the urge to lean into his touch. This is madness. I know I should push him away.
“You got what you wanted. You disrupted me at work, tried to embarrass me. You can leave now,” I spit out, venom dripping from my words. My heart is pounding against my ribcage, and I’m acutely aware of the way my pulse quickens at our heated exchange. I hate that I’m letting him get me this worked up, and I hate that I was wondering when I would see him again.
Penn leans back in his seat, his eyes dancing with amusement. He responds casually, as if my words were nothing more than a passing comment. “Are you saying you wanna go somewhere private with me?” he asks, his tone filled with cockiness, and he wags his eyebrows in that overly exaggerated way.
“Fuck you, Penn,” I snap, trying to regain control of the situation. My body tenses with the way he puts me so out of my element. It’s unnerving to feel so exposed, laid bare before someone. But there’s something about him that makes me want to challenge him—to push back against the chaos he embodies.
“Aw, don’t be like that, hellfire,” he taunts, hisvoice low and seductive. “You can’t deny you were happy to see me. I could see it in your eyes, baby.”
“You’re delusional,” I retort, my eyes narrowing as I fight the urge to step closer and indulge in the madness he incites within me. His presence is like a drug I can’t quit, even though I know it could destroy me.
