Page 1 of Lethal Seduction

1

GORDY

The Los Angeles night sky is clear, with thousands of beautiful twinkling stars shining bright. I smile and breathe deep. The aroma of roses and Arabian jasmine tickles the back of my nose, but I stifle the impending sneeze.

Gordy, I think to myself, you don’t have to do this. I sit on the gravel path behind the bushes lining the country club golf course. A fist-sized rock catches my eye. I pick it up and roll it around in my hand. It’s wet and heavier than I expected. Wiping the mud from my hand, I hold the rock up for a better look. The ambient light from the partially illuminated grounds makes the tiny particles of the stone sparkle.Beautiful, I think.

I toss the rock down and cross my arms. I’ve come back to work at Who’s Your Caddy Golf Club after hours to make a few extra bucks. Rumor has it that some of the older wealthy men use their money and influence to gain access to the club when they have an itch they need scratched. After my big break as Butler #1 in the latest Queen Victoria biopic fell through—unable to carry a British accent for my one line—I’ve become desperate to pay my rent. There is no way I’m going back to little know-nothing Maquoketa Iowa without at least one creditbehind my name. Despite my tenacity, there wasn’t another option but to beg my dad for funds, but then, as if by divine intervention, I received a note in my employee locker earlier this week, asking me to come tonight, and I jumped at the chance. From what I’ve gathered from the rumor mill, to be selected personally like this is a sure-fire way to get paid the big bucks. I can think of worse ways to earn a couple hundred dollars for an hour of my time.

Shit, if he gives me the right motivation, I’ll make him come however slow or fast he wants. I’ve been told my lips and hands have mad skills, not to mention my tight bootyhole. The tight ring of smooth muscle puckers, as if it knows I’m thinking about it, making me smile. I let out a breath, and I’m able to relax my shoulders a bit, despite the continued tension in the air.

How much longer am I supposed to wait? I’m hiding in the darkest shadows by the rose garden behind the pool, between the water trap on hole number nine and the tennis courts—just like the note instructed. Unfortunately, there hasn’t been any sign of life except for the incessant chirp of crickets. I know, buddies.I’m looking for sex too, I think.

I glance at my watch and let out a sigh. My time is precious, or at least that’s what I tell myself. My stomach grumbles because I haven’t eaten all day, not knowing if I was supposed to top or bottom tonight. I’m seconds from leaving when I hear a man’s voice in the distance. From the cackling laugh, I recognize it as Branson James, former NFL tight end and full-time flirt. He’s recently been widowed, his wife passing unexpectedly in a car accident, but that hasn’t stopped him from pursuing the younger men who work at the club. Gossip between staff and clients has always made him out to be a predatory horn-dog, but I’ve always found him quite pleasant—charming. Despite Branson being fifty-five to my youthful twenty-two, I wouldn’t have come tonight had it not been him. The jock might be aplayer, in more than one sense of the word, but he also makes me feel safe… wanted. Which is a first for me, if I’m being honest with myself.

Branson’s voice grows louder the deeper I go into the property, nearly at the water trap, but I still don’t see him. The fountain in the center of the pond recirculates the water, helping to oxygenate it for the fish and prevent algae from growing, but it obscures the direction from which his voice is coming.

I peek through a thick clump of palms and spot the tall, athletically built man facing the water trap. Nearly, five-nine, I never considered myself small, but Branson is massive, six-four if he’s even a foot tall. In the past, I’d given the man a massage at the club; his smooth brown skin would glisten with oil as I squeezed and pushed on his many, large muscles.

I swallow hard as the memory stirs my cock back to life, thickening inside my work shorts. Damn, I can almost feel his large muscular hands squeezing my shoulders, my ass. Fuck, I would honestly do him for free, but since he’s paying…

The man of my dreams clears his throat and says something I can’t quite make out. Branson is alone, so he must be talking to himself. I shrug.Whatever floats his boat, I think. I can be pretty vocal when the time comes too. Smiling again at the thought of the fun I’m going to have tonight, I shiver with anticipation.Here I come, Daddy.

I step through into the well-manicured patch of greenway that surrounds the water. “Branson, is that you?”

Branson turns and smiles. His beautiful dimples and sparkling eyes, send a tingle deep into my belly. We cross the grassy area that lies between us and stop short of an embrace. I’m completely unsure how these things usually progress, but my palms itch with the need to wrap myself up in his thick arms.

“You look really good tonight,” Branson says, eyeing me. He seductively bites his lower lip and winks. “Are you ready to call me Daddy?”

I swallow hard.Am I ever.I’ll call him whatever he wants if he promises to shove his cock down my throat. I look down at Branson’s waist and see the bulge in his grey athletic shorts grow, quickly showing me the massively thick hunk of meat he’s packing. The ridge of his cockhead begging me to unzip the fly and pull it out into the cool night air.

A sound behind us makes us look back to where I came from. “Is there someone else out here?” I ask. “I swear I heard you talking to someone earlier.”

Branson shakes his head, not taking his eyes off the hedges in the distance. “There was some guy out here, lurking around like a creep. I told him to get lost.”

“Who was it?”

Branson shrugs. “Don’t know, but I don’t hear anything else… he must have taken off when he realized I wasn’t here to see him.”

“Oh?” I take a step closer to the much taller and stronger man. I reach out and trace a finger along his erect cock, which jumps when I reach the head. “And who are you here for, Daddy?”

A sexy, deep, hungry moan comes from the older man as he wraps his arms around me, slowly lowering his head until our lips meet. My knees grow weak and my body trembles under his experienced touch. I pull away for a moment to catch my breath, ready and willing to dive right back in when I hear a rustle of tall grass behind us.

Suddenly, a loud thump, like a bat to a melon, Branson’s eyes widening in fear and pain, and he goes limp. I step back as his body slips through my arms and lands heavily upon the damp, grassy ground. Trying to find the words to say… to scream,I open my mouth, but, like a nightmare, nothing comes out. Standing before me is a man shrouded in black, moving toward me with a blunt object in hand. I turn to flee, to run for help, to escape this unfolding nightmare, but I’m too late.

I barely feel a thing, but a pressure to the back of my head sends me sprawling face-first on thick, lush, lawn of a well-manicured golf course where my world goes dark. Forever.

2

MICHAEL

Isit across from the date I connected with online last night. I swiped right on the newest app that promisesto be the last app I’ll ever need. I downloaded it, saved this guy’s profile, and the almighty algorithm declared us a perfect match. Now here we are. In hell.

Had I read his profile a little more thoroughly before swiping, there’s a good chance this date would never have happened. I need to be more careful next time. If I’m not going to put in the effort to find true love, there’s a pretty good chance I should just leave well enough alone. This half-hearted approach is getting me nowhere except heartache and disappointment. Finding my forever isn’t for the faint of heart, that’s for sure.

Looking across the table, I internally gasp. Is he actually dipping his well-done steak in ketchup? Really? I’m a cop for goodness’ sake, isn’t ketchup on steak a crime? I should know this. No, really… I should. Glancing around to see if there’s even one other table at this five-star restaurant with a bottle of ketchup, I cringe.

Nope. Not one table.

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