Page 1 of Tastes Like Misery

Chapter 1

Vivian

Shock was the first thing I felt when the well-dressed man, Dane, grabbed my wrist and hissed, “Wallet, now.”

Despite the anger burning in me, I feigned innocence and batted my lashes, “Whatever do you mean?”

His low, rumbling laughter was like an aphrodisiac, and I almost forgot I was caught for the first time in years. The man oozed of sex and danger in every movement, every expression. His voice was the thing of fantasies, where I imagined him fucking me hard and calling me every single dirty name. And I’d let him. I’d fall into it and come undone in his arms.

I was so lost in my fantasy, I didn’t realize he leaned into me until his breath swept across my ear, “You understand exactly what I mean, baby girl. I can always take you upstairs and strip you naked to find it. But I think you want it. You want me to do more, don’t you?”

It wasn’t truly a question, and I swore as my body betrayed me and moved closer, inhaling the warm scent of his cologne. “You wish you could have me,” I replied, recovering and getting back into the game. “I’m not into bondage,” I lied, tossing the long blonde hair of my wig over my shoulder. Narrowing my eyes, I glanced at my wrist, still in his grip, and back at his face before leaning back into my seat and taking a sip of my cocktail.

I nearly jumped when his fingers brushed against my knee, gliding up to the hem of my short, black dress. “I have only one idea where you might hide it, considering this dress is so fucking tight.” His voice and his touch were dangerous, sinful, and damn if I didn’t want it all from him.

Concentrating on the job at hand was hard, with my skin on fire and not just in the places he touched me. I wanted to beg him to go higher and say to hell with this job, but something told me he’d have me in handcuffs and not the fun kind. “I know where it is and if you buy me another drink, it might make me loose enough to give you what you want.”

He paused, and I had no doubt he couldn’t decide if he wanted to take his hand off my thigh or release my wrist. I leaned toward him, and let my breath brush against his neck, “Don’t keep a thirsty girl waiting.”

My words snapped him into action, and just as I hoped, he held onto my arm while he turned and held up two fingers to the bartender. In one quick move, I extracted the slim leather wallet hidden between my thighs. Noise of the glasses clinking masked the small thump it made as it landed on the floor.

Dane turned his attention back to me, not saying anything. His gorgeous brown eyes with those long lashes bored into me and I flushed. Something warred inside of him because his brows would furrow and then his eyes would twinkle within the span of a few seconds. Back and forth, his emotions swung like a pendulum, unlike my libido, which just stayed high and needy.

Finally, the bartender saved me from any more scrutiny by setting our drinks in front of us. I decided to be the one to break the silence, “Thank you for the drink. Your missing wallet is right where you dropped it. On the floor, behind you.”

A grin erupted on his face, showing his perfect white teeth. Somehow it made him seem more treacherous, and fuck, if I wasn’t about to rub myself all over him like a cat. My body betrayed my cool exterior as my nipples hardened for him to see. His gaze dipped down and he licked his lips, those perfect, sexy lips I wanted to taste.

“I don’t believe for one minute you didn’t try to pinch my belongings,” he winked at me, still not looking down on the floor where his wallet laid.

I shrugged, “Believe whatever helps you to sleep at night. I’m sure accusing a single woman who was minding her own business, just getting a drink before bed, would make you uncomfortable if you were wrong. Which you are.”

Finally, he got off his barstool and looked at the floor, finding his wallet where I’d dropped it. After picking it up and examining it, he sat back down, “I apologize for accusing you of such a terrible thing. It was my own clumsiness. Let me make it up to you.”

The way he said it, those words hinting at all the glorious heights he could take me to, had me agreeing in my mind, but I had to keep playing. I’d lost the game and knew I needed to find another victim if I were to make my rent. “That’s very kind of you, but I think I’ll just go to bed. I have an appointment with a client tomorrow that I need to prepare for.” I raked my nail down his crisp white shirt and pouted, “It’s too bad you took up all our time with your baseless accusations.”

His breath hitched, and his fingers wrapped around my wrist yet again. But this time, it was a hell of a lot lighter. I internally swooned as he rubbed circles on my pulse point, “I could give you a stress reliever. There’s nothing better than an amazing orgasm to relax you before meeting clients.” If I were standing, I wouldn’t be able to hold myself up with that smooth, alluring voice of his, offering the bliss I knew he would provide.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t you wish you could have me,” I teased before slipping off the stool and sashaying toward the richly decorated lobby of the city’s most prominent hotel. I felt his eyes on me as I made my way to the elevator and smiled as I heard his footsteps behind me.

I pushed the button and stayed facing the elegant copper plated elevator door despite the scent of his cologne making its way to my nose. Instinctively, I inhaled deeply, barely keeping myself from letting out a groan. It had to be a crime for a man to be so damn enticing.

Not one to be ignored, he leaned one hand against the wall as he slid into my view. The muscles flexing under his shirt caused me to imagine how good they would feel wrapped around my waist. A man in a dress shirt and tie were never my thing, but I had to admit it gave him so much more sex appeal. Dane could be in a clown suit and he would still ooze fuck me vibes.

The doors opened, and I hoped he would invite me to his room instead of tiptoeing around it. I had to push a button and just hit a random floor, not paying attention to which one. He moved close to me and reached for the panel, brushing his body against my own. “Which floor,” my voice came out as a squeak.

The door closed, and we were alone, the air heady with our arousal, the dangerous game I played causing my nerves to be extra sensitive, “How about if I go to your floor?”

“Hmm, I think it might be a little dangerous for a stranger to go to a single woman’s hotel room. How about your room?” My practiced line, one I’d used countless times, came out smoothly, and I waited for him to inevitably take the bait.

“I have a roommate,” he replied, and the intuition that served me well in all my time on the streets flashed in bright neon lights with the word “danger.” The only question was if I would listen to it or not. Probably not.

The elevator stopped on the floor I’d chosen and the doors opened. We stared at each other for a long time before he broke the silence, his voice dripping with sex, “Your floor, baby girl.”

Fuck, if I didn’t want to take him right to my room and ride him until the sun came up. The only problem was I didn’t have a room and counted on going to his. I stayed in my spot, “Pass. Like I said, it’s too dangerous.”

“Will you be here tomorrow?”

“No. I have a flight back home in the evening after my meeting,” I lied.

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