Avenge Me. Maisey Yates

      “Right now? I’m thinking I don’t want to take you out to dinner three times. I want to take you against the wall. Now.”

      His words hit those dark places inside of her. Called to needs she had that she’d never given voice to. Something in her sensed that he could give her what she wanted. Sensed that he would know what it was she wanted, everything she’d never given voice to. Things she’d never even let herself think.

      “That would be...” Incredible. And she didn’t know why she was sure about that, only that she was. “Well, it would be a bad idea because anyone could walk by.”

      “Danger doesn’t get you off?” he asked, leaning in, his lips a whisper from hers.

      Apparently, a certain kind of danger did get her off. But not the idea of getting caught having sex for the first time in a hallway. No, that didn’t turn her on so much.

      Lies.

      “Danger, maybe,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “Voyeurism, not so much.”

      “Not really my thing, either, I have to confess. But...I haven’t even kissed you yet and I’m not sure I can wait to get you to a hotel room.”

      “You’re very sure of yourself.”

      “Not of myself. Of this. You have to feel it, too. You have to.”

      She did. She nodded slowly. “I think anyone who came within three feet of us would be able to feel it.”

      Like the heavy lid of a well had just been moved and she suddenly had access to all of these things she’d kept in the deep darkness of her soul. Things she’d been hiding from.

      Maybe it was him. Maybe it was just because her world felt rocked. Because life seemed dirtier and uglier than it ever had, with those invoices scanned into her phone. With the weight of her reality, Sarah’s reality, pressing down on her.

      With the realization of what her life had become. An endless sea of numbness.

      Maybe that was why this stranger suddenly seemed like the most important thing in the world. Maybe it was why he seemed to be rooting her to the earth.

      Or maybe it was just lust. Base, dirty lust. Lust that had gone unpursued for the past twenty-six years. Lust that wanted something her body had decided only he could give.

      But then, in the end she wasn’t sure the reason mattered.

      “Probably,” he said.

      “Why don’t you kiss me?” she asked, desperate for something she’d at least done before. “Just to test it. We could be wrong, you know. We could kiss and decide it’s really not worth the trouble.”

      He touched her lip with his thumb and she shivered. “If I kiss you now, I guarantee you, you will find yourself shoved up against a hard surface or bent over a piece of furniture with your dress over your hips and your panties at your ankles. Is that what you want?”

      Yes. Heaven help her, yes.

      For your first time? Really?

      Why not? He knew what he was doing. If he told her what to do she was damn sure it would feel good.

      He was what she wanted. What she craved.

      “If I say yes,” she said, “will you judge me?”

      “No. But I might fuck you.”

      She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. “Is that a promise?”

      “Do you still want to go back inside and have cocktail shrimp?”

      She thought of Jason Treffen. Of the party she was meant to be coordinating.

      Well, it was late yet and everything was working just fine without her in there holding everyone’s hand. Because she’d already done a lot of coordinating and so it was all going smoothly and...and they really didn’t need her.

      And she wanted. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she wanted. For her. Not for Trey. Not for Sarah.

      “I’ve never wanted shrimp less in my life.”

      “I’m glad I have your attention.”

      “You do.”

      “Do you still want that kiss?”

      Her heart started thundering harder. “I really do think that we should do...things...in private.”

      “What if I promise to behave?”

      “Can you keep the promise?”

      “One kiss,” he said. “That’s all you can have. No more.”

      “What if I want two?” she asked.

      He cupped her chin, held her steady, his eyes intent on hers. “One,” he repeated. “Or I walk away. You have to obey, or I stop now.”

      She nodded slowly. “One kiss.”

      “Good girl.” He leaned in, his breath hot as it skimmed over her lips.

      He didn’t press his mouth to hers, not at first. He waited. Waited until she thought she would die with how much she wanted it. With how much she wanted him.

      And then he kissed her.

      It was firm. Hot. He tasted like alcohol and spices, like something completely new and unfamiliar. She wanted more. Wanted to explore his mouth, drown in his flavor.

      But before she could, he’d moved away.

      He stood back, assessing her, his eyes so dark they were nearly black. “What do you think?” he asked.

      “I don’t know.... What do you think?”

      “I think we need that hotel room. Now.”

Chapter Two

      Forget letting his mind wander down dark alleys. He was committed now. Not just his mind—his body and soul, as well.

      One night. It wouldn’t matter later.

      He’d never see this woman again. And he could...he could grab ahold of something just for the night. For one night he could have the control back. Everything was falling apart. Falling away, and once he dropped the bomb on his family, once the scandal broke over the Treffen name, all the control would be gone. Wrenched from his hands.

      This might make things feel all right, if only for a few hours.

      To have someone at his command. To have something that was his.

      He thought of the way she’d been talking to his father and a knot lodged in his throat. If she needed money...

      Put some money on the dresser?

      Well, why not? If she needed it. It would be better if it was him and not his father she was going to for security through sex. Because the other man couldn’t have her. No one else could. He wanted her.

      The things he wanted her for...

      He closed his hand into a fist and tried to stave off the surge of lust that shot through his veins. He needed to get a grip.

      Or not.

      He was tired. Tired of always fighting everything. Everyone’s demons and his own.

      He took his phone out of his pocket and dialed a hotel downtown that a business acquaintance owned. He’d been telling the truth when he’d told her he wasn’t a one-night-stand sort of man.

      But he had his connections.

      “I need a room for tonight,” he said. “Account number four fifty-three. The penthouse suite.” He didn’t want this woman to know his connection to Jason, not if she was ignorant of it. And he didn’t know why she should know who he was. Ten years he’d