Page 5 of King of Depravity

“No thank you.” It’s out in a rush betraying my true feelings and not at all in keeping with my normal façade. But his touch is breaking past my surface calm.

He gives me a grin and it’s positively wicked. I cringe away. “And if I told you that I don’t take no for an answer?”

“That’s what he said too,” I whisper, knowing that I am doing a much worse job of handling this conversation than I did the last.

Maybe it’s been too much maneuvering through male attention, or maybe this guy unsettles me like no other.

But his lips thin over his teeth as he tugs me down closer, bringing my face right to his face.

His scent wraps around me, and I have to be honest, he smells delicious. It’s cedar and spice, with a hint of male musk that makes my heart beat a little faster. Or maybe that’s just the fact that he’s got me bent over the table. “And how did you answer?”

“My boss doesn’t allow me to date patrons.”

He finally lets me go. “Is that what you’re going to say to me too?”

I jerk my chin in the affirmative.

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls his wallet out and lays three hundred-dollar bills onto the table. “You are waiting on me the rest of the night. Bring one whisky every hour, water in between.”

I pick up the bills, slipping them into my small apron as I turn to do as he bid.

“Chloe.”

That makes me stop dead in my tracks. How does he know my name? We don’t wear nametags.

I glance back over my shoulder, showing him my profile without making eyes contact. “Yes?” My voice is barely a whisper.

“You can try to deflect. You can run. You can even hide. But you will bend to my will, luv. I don’t take no for an answer.”

Fear steals my breath and for a moment I don’t move. Then, I unstick my feet from the floor and scurry toward the bar, trying not to break out into a full run.

My instincts are never wrong, and that guy is a psycho.

CHAPTERTWO

Killian

I stay until closing,keeping one eye on the Russians, the other on Chloe. She’s running scared like a little mouse, staying close to the wall, trying to escape my notice.

Like that’s possible.

I’m a man who operates in the shadows. She can’t hide in that place, it belongs to me.

The Russians finally leave, so drunk they stumble to the door. Some nights I follow them. I know loads of their secrets at this point, so tonight, I don’t bother.

I know where each of them lives, know where their office is located. I’ve even learned several of their drug drops. I’m thorough.

I rub my thumb and forefinger together, remembering the feel of Chloe’s skin. She was so fucking soft, like silk under my rough palm.

I meant what I said, one way or the other, she’s going to give herself to me. I don’t have much of a moral compass, even my family senses it, and they treat me differently because of it.

Most women don’t notice, they’re too busy looking at my tattoos or my muscles. Not that I pay them mind. But Chloe skittered away from me, her eyes darting here and there as she tried to map an escape. She senses what’s under my façade, and she’s running scared. She should be afraid. I’m a predator.

I don’t make a habit of terrorizing women. But just watching Chloe brings out a primal interest in me I’ve never felt before. It will be exercised one way or the other.

I watch her cash out, the bartender handing her any tips that were given on charge cards. I know I only drank about forty dollars of liquor, so she got a fat tip from me.

She did as I asked, delivering my drinks precisely on the hour. I didn’t touch any of them. I don’t drink, lowering my inhibitions any further is terrible idea, but I need to order drinks to remain at the table.

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