Page 26 of Venomous Games

“Soren Nixon. Pleasure is all mine, I’m sure. And this is Marcus.” I sit back, remove my AirPod, and hold out my hand for the other that Boston has pinched between his fingers. He places it in my hand and takes the seat next to me.

I have a distinct feeling there is more to these men than what they show on the surface. But for now, I’ll keep my thoughts to myself.

“Still stalking me, I see,” I say, turning toward Boston. His gaze sweeps over my face, and he holds back a smirk. “Tomorrow I might go to a new sex shop. Care to join me? This place even lets you test some products.” I give him a knowing look.

“You’re infuriating,” he states.

“Thank you,” I reply with a hand to my heart.

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Sure it was. How many women are infuriating to you?”

“Just you.”

“See … compliment.” I turn my attention to Soren and Marcus. “Is he like this with all women?” I ask, referring to the detective at my side.

“Just you, it would seem,” Marcus says, and then he and Soren stand.

“Boston, my wife is waiting. Happy birthday, old man,” Soren says, then nods to me and walks out while Marcus hangs back.

“You good to get home?” Marcus asks Boston. I look at Boston and see him nod to his friend. And with that, Marcus leaves.

“It’s your birthday?” I ask, surprised.

“Yes.”

“You must be old, then?” I reach for my drink and take a sip. He watches my every move as I dip my finger into the cream on the top and then place it in my mouth. His eyes remain on my mouth. “I thought you didn’t drink.” I can smell the alcohol emanating from him, mixed with the scent that is uniquely his.

“It’s my birthday.”

“I know.” I turn, and as I do, I call the waitress over and then order a slice of cake with a candle in it. He stares at me but doesn’t say a word. Neither of us do until the cake is in front of me. She lights the candle and then walks off.

“Happy birthday, Boston. Did you get everything you wished for?”

He looks at the cake, as if he is sizing it up.

“Have you not had cake before?” I ask, confused by his sudden change in demeanor.

“Never had it for my birthday,” he says, which surprises me. “My father worked a lot,” he adds, as if that’s enough.

“Blow the candle out, and make a wish.” His glassy eyes meet mine, and he leans over and blows, his gray gaze locked on mine as he does. He straightens, and I remove the candle, dig the fork in, then lift it to his lips. He opens without being asked, and wraps his lips around the tines. I adjust just slightly in my seat at the act, and he notices, gripping the fork and taking it from me. I pull my hand away quickly, not wanting his touch to linger too long.

Looking away, I dip my finger back into the cream of my drink, and before I can place it in my mouth, he grabs my hand and pulls it toward him. Then, ever so slowly, he places my finger in his mouth.

I’m shocked at first. Not only did I think he would never play into my annoying act, I never thought he’d give it right back. I don’t move a muscle as he sucks and then proceeds to lick off every bit of cream. I’m too stunned to speak.

Why am I suddenly feeling hot right now?

Fuck. He releases my finger. Then he stands, shoots me a wink, and walks off.

Holy shit.

FOURTEEN

BOSTON

The club lights faded behind me as Soren and Marcus walked ahead, and that’s when I saw her. She was sitting alone in that little diner across the street, head bent over her phone, a faint smile on her lips like she owned the place. That blue hair was bright enough to catch the neon, and soft enough to look effortless. The sight of her struck every nerve ending I didn’t even know I had. She was wearing that black leather jacket I’d seen her in before, sleeves pushed up just enough to show the tattoos along her forearm.