Page 87 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

He made his opinion of me perfectly clear a few days ago. But then he texted me, apologizing for his opinion.

Like… Hello? Were those words his opinion? Did he really mean the things he said but apologized to ease his guilt, or did he genuinely summon his inner asshole energy and word-vomited lies all over me?

I was told men are simple. They haven’t met Rurik Campbell.

Nat invited me to her place, which she shared with Oscar because their small get-together became bigger than anticipated. When she vaguely recognized one of the randos who had been invited, she immediately called me to "help investigate."

Translation: sweet-talk the guy and determine if he is a threat or genuinely innocent.

Everything was going according to plan. Nat left me to deal with this rando so she could talk in code with Oscar, and I was just working my charm to the T.

Until fucking Rurik showed up eating a slice of pizza with a drink.

Did seeing him throw me off my game?

Bitch, please.

Was I so close to calling it quits by just killing the rando?

No, I’m a professional.

What I did do was put a little sleepy powder into the rando’s beer. What? Never leave your drink unattended. When I saw his eyes drooping, I caught Rurik walking toward the bathroom and thought how perfect the timing was.

I know I should have continued ignoring him, but I just wanted to give him a piece of my mind. After what we did, I planned to get him alone to yell at him for treating me like a piece of trash.

I had plans, damn it!

And they all went down the drain when I was alone with him. Instead of giving him shit for being such an asshole, I did something that made the most sense to me the moment I laid eyes on him.

I kissed the shit out of him.

And then the most glorious thing happened next. He kissed me!

He was kissing me back in the same rough, manhandling way I secretly love — only he can do that — and I felt my knees drop along with what was left of my sanity.

And I’m not even mad about it.

“Fuck,” Rurik groans as I lick the tip of his dick.

I feel his fingers tangle through my hair as I use my saliva as lube. Looking up at him, I began stroking his dick up and down, squeezing my fingers, and massaging his balls with my other hand.

He closes his eyes and leans back, his brows furrowing together.

That’s it, angel. Just relax and let me take care of you.

His length hardens and grows with each stroke of my hand. I watch his features change as I continue squeezing and stroking him. His lips part open slightly, his eyes close shut, and my ears are rewarded with the beautiful sounds he’s making.

God, he is so fucking hot.

I want to lick him up and swallow him whole.

I lift the bottom of his shirt and lean down to kiss his hard abs, up to lick his nipples, and then back down to kiss the tip of his dick. He groans softly as I continue peppering kisses all over I can reach. As I continue to stroke him, I kiss his inner thighs, that sexy V-line on his hips, and his muscular quads.

“Stop kissing me all over,” Rurik complains, glaring down at me with lust-filled eyes.

“But you smell so good,” I purr, placing a kiss above his belly button. I grin when his muscles clench. “Like mahogany with a hint of lavender and espresso.” I inhale deeply, breathing him in.

“You make me sound like some candle scent,” Rurik grumbles as I grin at him.

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