Page 20 of Filthy Liar

“Maybe just a light beer?”

“You want some wine or something?” I ask. “A shot?”

Her eyes widen. “You go from wine to a shot?” she asks.

Shrugging a shoulder, I tilt my head to the side. “What do you think?” I ask.

“A shot, then some wine?”

My lips twitch. “A shot and some beer. I don’t want you to get sick.”

Lifting my hand, I motion for the prospect behind the bar. Ordering a bottle of tequila, I also ask for a bowl of limes and two beers. Dillion grabs the beers while I get the rest. Jerking my chin, I tell her to follow me. I don’t even try to take her to a table in the bar. I know exactly where I want her.

I guide her straight to my bedroom—where she belongs.

Standing beside the door, I wait for her to walk into the room. She stops in the hall, her gaze swinging from the doorway to me, then back to the doorway and back to me. “I’m not going to sleep with you,” she announces.

She has no fucking clue that she’s already slept with me. I don’t say anything to her. Instead, I just shrug a shoulder. “Baby, I don’t even know your name,” I lie.

“You’re far too smooth. You’re not getting me drunk and having your way with me.”

“Yeah?” I ask. “Okay.”

Her tongue sneaks out, sliding across her bottom lip, and then, as if her decision is made, she walks into my bedroom. I watch her go, enjoying the way those shorts hug her ass. Carrying the bottle of tequila and limes, I know this is going to be the night that solidifies us and seals everything.

This is the night when I claim her as mine.

This is the night when I take her.

This is the night when she sees me.

CHAPTER

EIGHT

DILLION

I’m not goingto sleep with him.

I’m in his room, but I’m not going to sleep with him.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

The only person I’ve ever slept with who I didn’t know is my secret lover. I’ve never done it before him, and I can’t imagine doing it after him. For whatever reason, my inhibitions are gone with him. Probably because he can’t see me, and I can’t see him. It’s more of one of those out-of-sight, out-of-mind things.

“I ain’t gonna bite you, babe,” he murmurs.

I don’t even know his name, and he doesn’t know mine either. “What’s your name?” I ask, facing him.

He chuckles, but I’m not sure why. He doesn’t know my name. I don’t know his. All I know is that he’s hot, he walked into the bakery, and he knows these other girls. I also don’t know much about them past their names.

“Name’s Clink,” he murmurs before he sets his cup of limes down and twists the top off.

I watch, holding the beers, then turn slightly to set them down on the nightstand. Ripping my eyes from him, I take in the room. It’s messy, but to my surprise, it doesn’t seem dirty.

There are clothes strewn all over the floor, but not trash, which is odd because I expected trash. I just know from the men who hung around in my childhood that they were disgusting pigs and expected the women to do everything for them.

Clink could be the exact same way, I don’t know, but it’s clear that a woman hasn’t been in here picking up after him recently.

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