Page 11 of Café Diablo

“About as divine as that cursing mouth of yours,” he mocks. “Or, sinful even.”

“Ha ha, I see what you did there,” I throw back at him. “You’re so witty!” I thrust the giant Café Diablo drink glass into his hand. Only, my depth perception is not awesome right now, and some of the liquid sloshes out of the bowl and splashes against his suit. “Oh, shoot! Sorry!” I giggle, as he jumps back and coffee-black liquid splashes against the patio between us.

“Aaaand, you’re definitely not in a state where you should be driving that moped home,” Edwin chastises.

“I know how to call an Uber, asshole!” I growl.

“Drinks like a sailor, swears like a sailor.”

I glare at him and nod to the giant goblet in his fist. “Drink!” I insist. “Get over your fear of trying anything different than whiskey.”

“I like whiskey.”

“Andlive a little!” I push. “Especially on your birthday!”

“Whiskey is fine,” he says, unmoved. “Classic. Smooth. Perfect.” His voice is low and growling and stupidly sexy, but I’m not giving in. I trace my finger down the chain at my throat, watching him clutch that bowl with his sticky hands as my fingers descend. I reach into my bra and pull out the tiny silver key to the handcuffs. Edwin’s eyes spark with curiosity—and lust—as I pull the key from my cleavage.

“See something you like?” I mock, and his blue eyes go dark, dark in that infuriating and stoic way that makes my panties damp.

“Take a damn drink, Voss,” I command in a hot breathy voice, shooting my hand out over the railing and dangling the tiny silver key between my fingers precariously. “Take a drink, or I’m dropping this key in the ocean.”

The wind kicks up, punctuating the moment and the surf can be heard crashing thirty stories below us.

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me!”

“I’m not—”

“Drink, Voss! Last warning.” I crank my arm back, preparing to chuck the key as far as I possibly can. “Drink, or we’re going to spend the rest of the night trying to find a hack saw.”

“Oh, my God! You’re incorrigible!” Edwin spits out, an angry fluster of red broiling up his neck like he’s about to lose it. “Fine!” He lifts the glass up to his lip, but pauses. “I take one damn sip and then I get the key.” He clarifies, ever the lawyer making deals.

“Absolutely,” I snap, turning toward him and stepping dangerously close to his body.

His eyes narrow, but then my chest brushes against his and the zip of heat that wicks up my tits makes me gasp. His eyes flash to my mouth and all I can taste is coffee and brandy and warmth. Edwin’s eyes dilate, and suddenly all I want is for him to drink the Café Diablo off my lips instead. I hold up the key and wiggle it in front of him, distracting us both from the pulse of electricity that sizzles between us.

I drop the key into the middle of the coffee-flame concoction.

“All yours,” I say hotly. “Now drink.”

He glares at me like I’m a child. “Really?”

“If all you can see is the mess,” I say, licking my lip, “then you’re in for one heck of a disappointment.”

He stares at me like he might dump the drink out onto the patio and rummage for the key, but I hold that annoyed glare like I can play with the best of them. Hell, I could stare at Edwin Voss all night and love every second of making him glare and fume and frown like that. Hell, if he does dump the drink out, I’ll just wrestle him to the ground and make him roll around in all that sticky syrup in search for the key.

I quirk my lip in a flirty smile, giving him my best devil’s eye. “You know,” I say softly, “I’m starting to think you like having me handcuffed at your side.” His eyes darken and I smile even wider. “Like maybe you’d rather enjoy spending the night with me.”

His eyes turn feral and a streak of heat shoots straight to my pussy.

No sugar coating that one.

Edwin tilts his head to the side. He knows exactly what I just said but he’s not giving me the satisfaction. Oh no, his eyebrow quirks in defiance as he lifts that giant goblet up to his lips. And against his better nature,he moansas he takes a sip. Oh, you better fucking believe he moans, because that drink is the kiss of the devil, and that moan is the sweetest, hottest, and most delicious sound I’ve heard break from this man’s lips—that hot syrupy drink slipping against his mouth and making me ravenous.

Which is when I drop to my knees and unzip his pants.

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