My Cruel Lover (Wicked Poison #3) - T.L. Smith Page 0,32

the door, more than a little confused. When I pull his office door open, I glance back at him and see his smirk hasn’t dropped from his face. I offer him a small smile as I shut the door behind me with a click. Grabbing my things, I head to Shandy’s work area only to find she’s already left for the day.

Rylee walks out of her office, paperwork in her hand and a pen between her lips. “You leaving?” she mumbles, and I nod. “Okay, good. I should be home in the next hour or so … I just have to finish a few things. I’ll see you at my place, though, right?”

I give her a nod and continue to the elevator. Pressing the button to go down, my phone dings, so I retrieve it from my bag.

Shandy: Don’t hate me …

I press call, not knowing what the hell she’s going on about and she answers straight away.

“Why would I hate you?” I ask, confusion causing my eyebrows to pull together tightly as I step out of the elevator and make my way to my car. Now, every time I look at the back seat, I see him there, on top of me, doing things with his hands and mouth.

Dangerous.

Risky.

Precarious.

“Well, because I invited Beckham. He’s one of my best friends, but I didn’t realize until after how it might affect you. So, I’m sorry.”

I smile, even though she can’t see me through the phone. “It’s okay, he told me,” I reply. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’m about to get Oliver and find something to wear. What are you wearing?”

“A dress. I need a new wife.” She giggles. “Make sure it’s short and hot. You need to find some arm candy, too,” she sings into the phone.

I have a feeling tonight isn’t going to be what I expect.

Hopefully, I can slip out and leave early without anyone noticing.

Chapter 17

Jacinta

He lied. I knew it. I should have guessed it straight away. I clutch my drink in my hand as he walks toward us, dressed more casually than usual. He’s wearing black jeans with a white shirt, which would probably be casual on someone else, but not him.

“Yeah, you came.” Shandy jumps into his arms. I turn away, so I can’t see his eyes on me, and sip my drink. Why did I decide to drink again? Like some sort of sixth sense, I can feel when he comes up next to me, not even having to turn to know it’s him.

Intuitively I just know.

It’s not only his smell, but there’s something about him that makes normal perception hype up and become something more.

“Jacinta.” A man drops into the chair in front of me—Beckham’s friend, Archie. He nods to my drink and sits back, lifting his own. “Do you dance?”

“No.”

“Bullshit! She’s been dancing for hours. Beckham, take her out dancing,” Shandy says. When I turn to face her, it’s him I come face-to-face with.

“I don’t dance,” Beckham says through gritted teeth, his eyes on my lips. I lick them like every cliché book I’ve read.

When a man is staring at your lips, and you know exactly why, why do you always seem to lick them?

Because despite me saying I don’t want him, I know it’s the exact opposite. I want him with every fiber of my being.

“I’ll take you to dance, sweetheart,” Archie says with a raised brow.

“You don’t like most people. Why are you even talking to her?” Beckham asks Archie.

Archie smirks at me, and I can’t help the smile I give in return.

“Don’t entertain the asshole,” Beckham barks at me.

“That’s exactly why. Because you’re interesting when you’re riled up,” Archie says. “Plus, she’s beautiful, and I would like to see her dance. Wouldn’t you?” Archie goes to stand, but Beckham does first and reaches over and pulls me up. Now on my feet, he tugs me out of the area where we’re seated.

“I don’t want to dance with you.”

“Too fucking bad,” Beckham says. When we get to the crowded dance floor, he turns and pulls me to him, so our bodies are aligned, not caring that we aren’t dancing to the rhythm of the music, only that our bodies are in full contact with one another. I feel him move my hair from my shoulder before his lips connect with my skin, and his tongue licks from my shoulder to just under my ear. A shiver breaks out across my body, and I lean into him a little more, and