Page 35 of Worth the Risk

“Hadn’t really planned to.” She shrugs. “Guess I needed it more than I realized.”

I make a mental note to circle back to that comment, to try to get her to open up about what’s been stressing her out besides work.

“Macallan eighteen, double.” The bartender places the tumbler down in front of Taylor.

She picks up the glass, bringing it straight to her nose. “Oh God.” She shakes her head and slides it toward me. “I can’t drink that.”

“I take it you’re not a whiskey drinker?” He laughs, his eyes glued to her. It’s clear he’s had a conversation or two with her throughout the night. I’m not surprised. Taylor is the kind of woman who turns everyone’s head when she walks in the room. She steals the attention without even realizing it.

“I can’t do dark liquor.”

“That’s a shame.” He smiles. “I was going to offer to take you t?—”

“No.” I chuckle, reaching my hand out to hook beneath her chin, turning her face to look at me. “You’re not going to offer to take her anywhere.”

Her eyes are staring into mine, glassy and wide.

“And you’re going to drink the whiskey like a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Right,” the bartender mutters before walking away.

“Good girl?” She smacks my hand away from her jaw, making me laugh. “Trying to cockblock me? And what’s with you and that phrase?” She reaches for the tumbler of whiskey, bringing it toward her lips. “Wow.” She gasps. “That is not good.”

“Is that what I’m doing—cockblocking you?” My chest tightens at the thought that she might actually be interested in the bartender.

“Answer my question first.”

“I believe it was your phrase actually.” I reach for the glass, taking it from her, my fingers gently sliding over hers for a brief second before I lift it to my own lips and take a healthy sip. “You’re the good girl.” I slide the glass back toward her, leaning in a touch closer. “And I’m work daddy.”

I can see the physical reaction her body has when I say that phrase. Goosebumps prick the exposed skin of her arm. A gentle flush creeps across her breast and up her neck.

“Please don’t call yourself daddy again,” she says dismissively, reaching for the glass and taking another drink.

“Oh, I won’t be the one calling me that, Taylor.” My voice drops an octave and I’m not sure if it’s from the whiskey already or the tension that is growing so thick between us it threatens to suck the air from my lungs. “Now, answer my question.”

“No,” she snaps defensively, “I’m not actually interested in him.”

Her eyes stay glued to mine as I take the glass from her fingers.

“It’s a shame you don’t appreciate the taste of dark liquor because this is a damn fine whiskey.” I bring it to my nose and inhale, letting my eyes close to savor the spicy vanilla notes.

“I don’t taste anything. It just burns.”

“Here.” I hand it to her. “Try it again but this time close your eyes and let it sit on your tongue for a few seconds before swallowing.”

She lifts the glass, clearly unconvinced. Her eyes flutter closed and she takes a sip, letting it sit on her tongue like I instructed. She takes another sip, a little bigger this time. I watch as it coats her top lip, her tongue darting out to swipe away the moisture.

My cock throbs against my thigh, just the sight of the small pink tip of her tongue mixed with the whiskey has me pushing aside any inhibitions.

“I guess there’s maybe a tiny little hint of vanilla.” Her eyes flutter open. “But I still can’t ever imagine developing a taste for it.”

“Mmm, that’s a shame.” I pick up the glass and finish off the last of it, placing it back on the bar and looking over at her. Her golden hair looks angelic, tumbling over her delicate shoulders. “There’s only one thing I’ve tasted that I crave more.”

“What’s that?” She flashes a coy smile, rolling her eyes. “Let me guess. Success?”

“Not even close.”

“So help me God if you say pussy.”

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