Page 249 of Double Daddies
In a lot of respects, dressed in that suit, he reminded her of Adam.
Because it was polite, Avery flashed him a brief smile; she was, after all, an employee and he was a paying guest. Ducking her head, she turned to leave again.
“Avery,” Liam said firmly, using his Dom voice on her. “Come in here one night in the next few days. Don’t think the Masters haven’t noticed you hiding in the cabin.”
That was kind of true, but he didn’t need to know he was right. “Not hiding, Master Liam. My alarm is set for three o’clock every morning, no matter what.”
“Mmm-hmm, and you punch out in the afternoon. Make time for the fun stuff, sweetheart—life is a lot shorter than we think.” He gave her a wink to soften the sternness of his voice, then turned to the lion as he stepped up beside her. “Same again?”
“Please.” The empty glass clinked on the bar next to the boxes. The guy leaned forward, sniffing the stack of goodies, then lifted an eyebrow at Avery. “Are these your creations?”
Polished. Cultured. Wealthy.
The clothes he wore were a statement, his watch cost more than she earned in a year on her new salary, and his cologne screamedmoney!
“I… yes.”
After taking another deep, gratifying sniff, he straightened. “I was hoping I’d get the chance to meet you. I arrived about an hour ago and discovered a box of these in my cabin as a welcome gift.” Those eyes stroked over her from head to foot and back again with the confidence of a man who knew how to push a woman’s buttons. “Delicious. Simply delicious.”
“I… thank you?”
“Would you be interested in a proposition?”
From a nameless stranger in a BDSM club? No, thank you. “I don’t trade cookies for sex.”
“Good to know. That wasn’t the proposition.”
“Oh.” She took a step back as Liam slid another shot glass over the bar and claimed the empty one. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me. I have things to do.”
The man reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a business card. Holding it between his index and middle fingers, he offered it. “I’m looking for a talented individual who might be persuaded to join me on my travels. If you want more details, give me a call.”
Sensing Liam’s displeasure, Avery snatched the card, her fingers brushing the stranger’s. The brief touch sent the butterflies fluttering in her belly again. “Thanks. I really have to go.”
As she hurried away, she heard Liam say, “We don’t like it when guests try to poach our staff…” before she got out of earshot. She didn’t want to be the cause of tension between a guest and the club; the faster she took herself out of the equation, the better.
Curiosity made her glance at the card in her hand—black, embossed with gold lettering—and read,Tristan Holdsworth. Entrepreneur.Aside from a phone number, that was all the information it gave.
Well, she wasn’t intrigued by his proposition. God, she hated that word. How many women had Adampropositionedinto her bed, her shower, her home? How many more had he welcomed into his office, closing the blinds while he fucked them on his desk or that stupid little vanity couch he kept for clients?
Player.
It summed Adam up in a single word, and Tristan gave her the same vibes.
He could flash a charming smile, magically summon a couple of dimples, and spout poetry from that full-lipped mouth, but she was no longer a naïve idiot blinded by loneliness.
If he was determined to pursue her, for whatever reason, he might find her willingness to be played was non-existent. She didn’t want to be someone’s toy until they became bored and ransacked the nearest store for a new plaything or ten. She didn’t want to be a notch in a bedpost, a point on a scoreboard, a goddamnthingto be discarded.
This was her fresh start, her leap into the unknown.
A man hadn’t been necessary in her life before Adam, and she hadn’t particularly needed him during their sham of a relationship. She sure as hell didn’t require oneaftershe got rid of the cheating asshole.
Was she exuding some sort of scent that told men she was vulnerable? A pheromone that sent out a broadcast to their primal senses, demanding they go on the hunt?
Maybe she should find a stronger deodorant.
Repel.Made for women by women.
Flipping the card into the reception trash can, Avery stomped into the dining room and back through the kitchen, indulging herself with a little temper tantrum.
