Page 3 of Devoured
His voice was deep and velvety, coursing over the music and sinking into my ear, dragging me down with it. I took his hand, surprised by how big it was. He took a seat, then patted the space next to him. I held back a sneer; I wasn’t a dog.
But I had to pretend.
I sat down and grinned. “I know who you are,” I said. “You’re quite the name. Some might even call you—”
“A celebrity,” he said. I grit my teeth. Yes, you cocky bastard. A celebrity.
“Exactly,” I said.
“So what brings you to Vanish?” He leaned back on the seat. “You don’t seem like our usual type.”
Our usual type. Rage instantly flushed through me. I hated when people, especially men, talked about their ‘types.’
“Because I’m not a barbie doll?” I tilted my chin, trying to sound playful and not irritated.
“Because you’re not drunk,” he said. “Or high. You came here with a goal in mind, didn’t you?”
I raised a brow as he sipped from a glass of water. “But you’re trading liquor for water.”
“Hydration is key.”
I glanced around, looking at all of the people. Everyone was so enamored with partying that none of them noticed us, or noticed me. Price had a habit of making people evaporate, as if they had never existed. News articles discussed theories about disagreements between his team members, and suddenly, those people would disappear from all records. While looking him up, I had seen it happen with my own eyes. An article with names here one second, and gone the next. I could disappear tonight, and no one would be the wiser.
But I wasn’t going to let that happen. I straightened my shoulders. “Why are you in the VIP section of your own club?” I asked.
“Because I can be.”
“Are you here every night?”
“I own nightclubs all over the world.”
“Here, I mean,” the aggravation slipped through my words. I adjusted.Be nice, I thought,Be like Teagen. But I couldn’t help the urge to ask questions. “When you’re here, do you party here every night?”
“That depends.” He angled his body toward me. “Do you want me to be here every night?”
Was he trying to come on to me? He cocked a smile, then put his arm on the back of the sofa, his fingers brushing my shoulders. Surprised, I shivered at the touch.
“Are you working right now, or are you here for play?” I asked.
“It depends. Do you want to play?”
I swallowed a dry gulp. If I wanted to do this, I had to commit one hundred percent. I put my sweater on the couch, then straddled him, grinding my hips into his lap, his cock twitching on contact. He smelled fresh, a minty hint to his cologne with an edge of his sweat underneath it. I grabbed the tie around his neck, pulling him sharply towards me.
“I want to play,” I breathed, “with your brain. With your mind. I want to know what your plans are. What you’re going to do with your next project.” I licked my lips. “Your mind turns me on.”
“You want to flip clubs like this?”
“Yes,” I lied. “Tell me.”
He grabbed my throat in one hand, pinching my mouth and chin together with the other. My chest tightened and my body rolled with heat. My thighs clenched. I was on top, still straddling him, looking down into his face, and yet in that position, I wasn’t in control. He was holding onto me. Controlling my air. My life.
“Tell me, Iris,” he said in a low voice, “Is seducing the new owner part of your job at the Dahlia District?”
I blinked my eyes, trying to wrap my head around his words. His eyes stretched, gazing at my mouth, then down to my breasts. He let go of me, letting his hands fall to the sides, resting on my calves.
“You know who I am?” I asked. He nodded. “You knew who I was this whole time?”
“From the moment they checked your ID.”
