Page 86 of Heartless Game

“I don’t really like beer,” I told him.

“I know,” he said. Of course he did. “There’s wine.”

Walking around me, he trailed a hand over my back, making my whole body come to life.

“Red or white?” he asked.

“Red,” I said.

Nodding, he wandered into the pantry, coming back out with a bottle of Malbec.

“What’s a college guy doing with a wine cellar?” I asked teasingly, even though my heart was pounding.

From what I’d researched, it took a few hours for Vice to take effect. I needed him to drink the whole bottle of beer before I could enact my plan.

“My father raised me with the finer things in life, but I’m sure you found that out when you were investigating me. I know it makes me seem like a snob, but I prefer things finer. I never really was a fan of shitty keg beer.” He made a face. “Parties like that never really do it for me.”

“But you go to them all the time. Youhostthem all the time,” I pointed out.

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “But that’s just part of the Isaac Jones veneer. The fun, easygoing party guy with a heart of gold. I figured you more than anyone would realize it was just a front.”

I couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him. After all, I knew all about pretending to be someone you weren’t just to get what you needed.

That didn’t mean I’d veer away from my plan. Isaac poured me a glass of wine, handing it to me. We clinked glass against glass, and I sipped my wine as I watched him finish his beer.

“To showing someone our truest selves,” I said.

He shook his head. “How about, ‘to honesty.’”

I swallowed, my heart pounding harder. “To honesty.”

* * *

Hours later,I pretended to study in the bedroom, listening to Isaac’s groans as he masturbated in the shower for the third time. He hadn’t yet realized what had happened to him, and I felt a horrible mix of incredibly guilty and incredibly turned on.

Finally, I heard a not particularly satisfied moan, then the sink turned.

Isaac exited the bathroom, his eyes almost black, his pupils were so dilated.

“On your knees, Tovah,” he growled. “I can’t get my cock to go down, but I bet your tight little throat will help.”

“Why don’t you get on the bed?” I suggested, patting the spot beside me. “It’s more comfortable.”

Usually he would’ve been suspicious that I was being so agreeable. He should’ve been suspicious. Instead he climbed onto the bed next to me. I turned, straddling him, and his hard cock, encased in gray sweatpants, settled between my thighs against my pussy, sending waves of heat through my body.

God, I wanted him. It would be so easy to abandon my whole plan and swallow down his cock, or dry hump him, or?—

—But that would make me just as bad as he was. He might be mostly in control, and fully aware of what was going on, but it would still be taking advantage, and I refused to do that.

Still, I kneeled over him, running my hands up his arms, listening to him gasp.

“So sensitive,” I murmured. “What if we play a little game?”

“What kind of game?” he asked, his voice a low, lusty rasp.

Shifting his wrists, I reached for the cuffs that were currently attached to the headboard. Before he could realize what was happening and stop me, I cuffed them around his wrists, hopping off his body and off the bed, putting distance between us in case the cuffs didn’t hold.

They did.

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