Page 8 of Exquisite Taste


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A few moments pass before the sound of heavy knocking on the door alerts me she’s here. My voice responds for them to enter.

“Seriously, you can get your paws off me. I don’t need to be manhandled, you big oaf.” I turn to Arthur, his eyebrows dipping in annoyance as he escorts the girl into my office.

“Listen here, you little—”

“That will be all, Arthur.”

“Damien, she’s under—”

“Shut the door behind you,” I say, my tone stern. With one last glance, he nods, drops the girl’s forearm, and exits the office, shutting the door behind him.

“Jesus, what sort of goons do you have working for you?” she snaps, rubbing her shoulder.

“Ones that keep unwanted guests from entering my club. What can I do for you, miss…” I pause, waiting for her to address herself.

“Jensen.”

“Ms. Jensen.”

“No, Jensen’s my first name.”

I raise a brow with confusion. “Your parents named you Jensen?”

“Ones who wanted a boy. Your parents named you after the son of Satan?”

“Ones who expected very powerful things from their child.”

She takes a long look at me, her plump lips pursed. Imagining those pouty lips painted a deep shade of red and wrapped around my cock, I hide my sudden, and unexpected, arousal. She’s a natural beauty, and her perfect teeth tell me she had a good upbringing—parents who made sure their daughter brushed her teeth and said her prayers each night.

She pulls at the front of her dress, bringing my eyes to her chest. The dress really does nothing for her. Women who dress in those type of clothes know how to wear them, but she looks out of place in the tight material. My curiosity builds, but I turn away and take a seat at my desk. She doesn’t move at first, then follows suit and sits across from me.

“I can have you arrested for trespassing. This is a twenty-one-and-over club.” I keep my expression blank.

“And what would you tell them? That your doorman took a fake ID and allowed an underage girl in? That doesn’t seem smart.”

Her feisty mouth has my hand twitching. No one dares to talk to me the way she just did, let alone challenge me. Her eyes shine with determination, but I’m the one who will come out ahead of this. “I can assure you the Chicago Police Department will turn a blind eye to my staff’s mishap. I’m not sure I can say the same for you when they arrest you.” Threading my fingers together, I rest my arms on my chair and wait for her next move. She has yet to explain why she’s here in the first place, or why she requested to speak to me.

“Look, I’m not here to cause anyone trouble. I just need something from you and I’ll be on my way.”

I start to lose the smile that’s forming on my face. Nothing from me is that simple. I don’t hand out favors. I certainly don’t offer anyone my charity. If you want something, it comes with a price. I continue to stare her down, keeping my eyes locked with hers and not on her overexposed breasts. “I’m not sure I can help you with that, Ms. Jensen. You see, nothing I have to offer comes for free.”

I love it when a woman squirms. When their skin changes color at the mere thought of what they would possibly have to endure in exchange for what they want. The sudden realization they may have made the wrong decision by propositioning me. Once in my den, it’s too late to back down. Jensen becomes uncomfortable in my leather chair. She clutches the hem of her too-short dress, which does nothing to hide the cream panties I noticed the second she sat down and tried to pull it down her thighs.

“Listen, son of Satan, I’m not here for any of that sort of business. I just need…I just…I need a contract and I’ll be on my way.”

I’m not sure whether to be mad or amused by her nickname. What does get my attention is her request for a contract. My smile finally breaks through and I lean forward, placing my hands on my mahogany desk. “You want a contract,” I reply, more as a statement than a question.

“Yep. It doesn’t have to be filled out or anything, just the paperwork will do.”

“And assuming I have this contract you speak of, you need what with it?”

She crosses her legs, then quickly realizes her mistake and uncrosses. But the damage is already done. Her panties were exposed to me once again, along with her porcelain thighs leading up to them.

“Listen, I’m not interested in what goes on here. Nor am I going to tell. I just need…I have to…I accepted this dare if you will…” She pauses, leaving me to wonder where she’s going with this. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve come across a curious girl wanting to know what goes on in a sex club, and she won’t be the last. I stay silent, her level of comfort decreasing with each passing moment. She wants to appear tough and unfazed, but there’s no hiding the beating pulse in her neck, the flush of her cheeks, and the small tremble of her fingers as they tap on the armrest. “I accepted a challenge from this devil chick, you may know her, being from the same town, Hell and all, and to save my best friend from four years of hating me for getting in the way of her sisterhood dreams, I need to get my hands on your contract.”

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