Page 58 of Devious Temptation
Is he for fucking real?
I haven’t had his parmesan potatoes since high school. And wedon’thave “dinner quite often,” as he so shamelessly puts it, trying to imply that we’re close—which weare,but… he’s doing this on purpose!
Lawson ignores my glare, beaming his gorgeous smile at each of us before focusing on the menu. The blonde woman peers at me across the table, her brown eyes flitting over my neckline before darting back to Lawson, no doubt assessing our relationship regardless of company policy.
Suddenly, I realize I’m even less hungry than before.
When our waitress arrives, I smile sweetly up at her and ask for a shot of tequila, delighted that Lawson doesn’t object with words—only his disapproving stare and an arched brow.
“And please, keep them coming.”
The waitress does not,in fact, keep them coming.
Lawson cuts me off after two, even though Richard seems more than willing to let me drown myself in Patrón, and makes sure I order more than just the salad I was prepared to pick at.
Richard and Marilyn Monroe seem to be hitting it off spectacularly, though. If I have to listen to another one of his ice fishing stories, I’m going to bang my head against the glass table.
As it is, Lawson is currently telling Richard all the reasons he’s wrong for using artificial bait, and I want to plug my ears because I hate fishing. I hate how this evening is going, and all I want to do is climb back into my fluffy robe, spread out on my big, comfy bed, and fall asleep to a rom-com.
Marilyn—yes, I’m aware her name is Judy—bats her falsies between them like she wants to drizzle chocolate on them both and eat them for dessert.
Richard nudges my shoulder to pull me into him, and his lips ghost over my ear as he whispers loudly, “Why don’t we take this party away from your overbearing boss?”
Marilyn pouts and glances at Lawson, who looks like he’s about to leap over the table and shove my date’s face down into what’s left of his moussaka. I play into it, turning my head, which brings our faces so close together that his lips could brush against mine with the slightest movement.
“Okay.”
A flash of excited surprise fills his blue eyes before he lifts his hand to try and signal our waitress for the check.
Continuing to ignore Lawson, I place my hand on Richard’s thigh. “Would you mind letting me out? I’d like to freshen up before we leave,” I state with the sultriest lilt I can muster.
The man nearly trips over himself as he scrambles out of the booth so fast it’s comical. I press my hand to his chest and give him a demure “thank you” before walking toward the bathroom, making sure to put a little extra sway in my hips for Lawson to stare at.
I figure I have about two to three minutes to think of an excuse to go back to my room—alone—before it looks like I’m taking a poo instead of checking my appearance.
That’s actually a good excuse! Tell Richard your souvlaki isn’t settling right, and you aren’t feeling well.
When I open the door, no one else occupies the bathroom. It’s small, with only two stalls, but clean.
Leaning against the vanity, I check that my lipstick isn’t smudged or worn off too badly. And a few seconds later, my heart jumps into my throat as the door slams open. Lawson storms in, locking the door behind him.
“Lawson! What are you—” My words die in my throat as he lifts his hand to collar my neck, walking me backward until I’m pressed against the wall.
“Are youtryingto piss me off?” Fire and brimstone fill his gravelly tone with so much heat it sends a slick wave of arousal between my legs.
His reaction fills me with something I can only describe as immense power. Like it doesn’t matter what I say. This man is ready to drop to his knees to prove that he’s the only one I should be leaving this restaurant with.
“I thought you didn’t care?” I arch a brow, relishing how his nostrils flare at my daring question.
“I didn’t want to, but it turns out that I do. I very much fuckingdo,” he growls. “Now, you don’t want to be here anymore than I do, isn’t that right, rainbow?”
Lawson’s so authoritative, demanding my compliance with a squeeze as his other hand drifts down my belly to the hem of my dress. Silently, I shake my head slightly.
“That’s right. You’d rather be naked, spread out on my bed, waiting for me to spank your ass so hard you won’t be able to sit for a week.” He presses against me, swiping his fingers up the center of my thong, where I’m wet and needy and desperate to feel his touch. I whimper as his lips ghost my skin. “And then, when you’ve been thoroughly punished, I’m going to spread those thighs and eat your pussy for dessert before I fuck you bare and fill you so full of my cum, you’ll never forget who yourdaddy is because I’ll be dripping between your legs for the rest of your life.”
God, yes.
My body screams for his touch, but my heart shudders at his words.For the rest of your life.
