“We should all probably do that,” Mia points out. I nod my agreement and pretend like I wasn’t imagining role-play kink while the rest of our group breaks up to work the room. Still, my eyes follow Greg for a few moments as I watch him settle into a conversation with a group of older ladies who look a hell of a lot nicer than Betty McDonald.
Then my gaze drifts toward the foyer, and I notice Ned lurking by the snack table. My inner sneak lifts her head. I watch him stand there awkwardly for a few minutes until his gaze meets mine. And like I’d cast a fishing line and started reeling him in, he moves toward me. I can’t help the satisfied grin that settles over my face.
Instead of seeing the cunning behind it, he takes it as encouragement, his leering grin answering mine.
“Looking good today, Joanie,” he says, his beady dark eyes scanning me from tits to ass before landing on the former. “Can I get you a drink?”
I paste on a flirty smile. “Oh, I’d just love that. I’m so thirsty after that long meeting.” I lay my hand on his arm and bat my eyelashes at him invitingly. “Thank you, Ned, you’re so thoughtful.”
Ned dutifully scampers off, and I watch him approach the table. But his back is facing me, I hope strategically, as he prepares my drink. He returns a few minutes later, handing me a styrofoam cup of black coffee.
I carefully accept it with my fingertips holding the rim, but I don’t take a sip.
“Thank you,” I purr.
“I hope you like your coffee black,” he responds. “I love the taste of straight-up coffee, don’t you?”
I nod agreeably. “Oh, absolutely. I like my men and my coffee tall, dark, and delicious,” I say, pointedly scanning him from head to toe.
He misses the innuendo, his eyes flicking between me and the cup, and I work to school my expression — time to distract him from the fact that I’m not drinking it.
“So tell me more about yourself, Ned.” I run my free hand down his arm. “What do you do for fun?” I give him a meaningful look from under my eyelashes.
His grin stretches even wider. “I could tell you,” he says in what I’m sure he thinks is a sexy voice. He leans in, and it’s all I can do not to wince at the foul odor of his rancid breath. “Or I could show you.”
“Oh Ned, you’re so funny,” I titter, stepping back. Not getting the hint at all, he presses forward.
“And you’re —” I don’t get to find out what I am because a growl rips through the air between us, and suddenly Greg is there.
All I see is thick, dark hair, broad shoulders, and a tapered waist as he shoves in front of me. He pushes Ned, and though Ned’s a touch taller, his skinny ass stumbles back several feet.
“Touch her, and you die,” Greg snarls.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and a unique mixture of fear and arousal courses through me. Ned, for his part, scurries away like the rat he is.
And Greg whirls in place to face me, fury written all over his face. “Come with me.” His hand closes over mine, pulling me through the thinning crowd and into his office. I struggle to keep the coffee from spilling as he slams the door behind us.
“What the hell was that?” Greg demands, barely containing his anger.
I sigh and shake my head, pulling a folded plastic zipper bag from my back pocket. I set the cup on Greg’s desk, open the bag, slip it in, and carefully seal it shut. Greg’s eyes track every movement as his chest heaves. With that done, I step into him, placing my hands gently on his chest. But I can see in his eyes he already has a pretty damn good idea of what I just did. And that it was, at least in part, premeditated.
“Tell me you didn’t bait him into trying to drug you.” Greg’s tone is as hard as his expression. His hands are clenched into fists, and his eyes are wild.
I can’t help it; my hands find my hips as I glare back at him. “I didn’t bait him to do anything. He offered me a drink, and I accepted, but I didn’t drink it. That’s all.”
“That’s all?” Greg explodes. “You had a fucking evidence bag ready, Joanie! Even if you were just waiting for him to make a move, he could have tried to lure you away, or injected you with something when Plan A failed, or —”
“We were in public. And I can take care of myself,” I cut in calmly.
He scoffs. “Oh really? So if he grabbed you, you’d be fine?”
I raise an eyebrow. “You think I couldn’t handle that?” I challenge. “I’d like to see you try to grab me against my will.”
Greg smirks, but it quickly fades at my stony expression.
“Don’t mess around, Joanie,” he replies, irritated.
“I’m not messing around. Go ahead. Try to grab me,” I grit out through my teeth.