Page 15 of Beautiful Cruelty

At least, that's what the sign says at the entrance.

I spare it nothing more than a passing glance.

My eyes are searching for something else.

No, scratch that,someoneelse.

For broad shoulders in an impeccably cut suit. For that knowing smirk that makes my stomach flip.

But Vadim is nowhere to be seen.

Maybe it's better this way.I'm not sure how I'd react if I were to see him now.

The weight of the tray grows heavier with each step as I weave through the crowd. A group of women in designer dresses beckon me over, their jewelry glinting under the chandeliers. They pluck flutes of champagne off my tray, and then go back to their conversation without so much as a 'thank-you.'

Which suits me just fine.

Just as I walk away, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I set the plate down at a nearby table, pull it out, and my heart stops when I see it.

A new notification in my message thread with Vadim.

Read today at 6:44pm.

But that's not what I'm focused on.

It's the tiny heart reaction on the photo.

Heat floods my cheeks as I gawk at the update underneath the photo of me wearing nothing but his suit jacket, sprawled across my bed with my legs spread open and pussy exposed.

Suddenly, three blinking dots appear.

He's writing something!

My mouth goes dry. The crowd's chatter fades to white noise as I wait with bated breath for his response.

When it comes, it's the last thing I expect.

It's a photo of Vadim.

To be specific, it's just his lips. In the photo, his mouth is curved up in a devious smile, his tongue is trailing slowly across those full, sensual lips, exposing a single canine tooth that's practically gleaming through the screen of my phone.

Somehow, he's managed to make a completely ordinary photo look insanely hot.

The dots start blinking again. And a second later, a follow-on text comes.

I hope you taste as good as you tease.

Oh fuck!

His words send wet fire pooling between my legs. Gripping the edge of the table to steady myself, I feel my cheeks searing. My head starts spinning, and I'm grateful that all of the other servers are too busy to notice me.

A couple walks by and I quickly lock my phone screen before they can see. But the image is seared into my brain—the deviously sexy smile, the predatory point of his tooth, and the way his tongue traces the sensual curve of his mouth.

Focus, Lacey. You're working.

Suddenly, my skin feels tight, and every nerve ending sings with awareness. Is he here somewhere, looking at that photo of me spread open for him? Thinking about tasting me?

My phone vibrates again. Another message. Another picture.

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