Page 7 of Sinful Hearts

My face heats as my lips purse. Jesus Christ, some people have no boundaries.

I make a face, turning away to slug down more vodka. This was a big mistake. I should leave before Hades recognizes me and makes it his mission never to let me forget about that time he saw me dressed like a literal sex kitten at a fucking kink club. Or at the very least, I should leave before this chick starts blurting out more details about Hades than I have any need to know.

Something dark bubbles under the surface of my skin, and I grit my teeth.

Yeah, that’s it. I’m leaving.

I swear I’m about to. Really.

Then suddenly, something clicks.

No.

No no no.

I try and shove the thought away, but it’s already sunk its claws into me, and they’re holding on tight.

Slowly I turn back to let my eyes drag over Hades’ broad shoulders and muscled frame beneath his tailored black suit.

I swallow thickly, my pulse thrumming just below the surface.

He might be an arrogant dick and a pain in my ass. Well, nomightabout it, he is. But like it or not, if the rumors and tabloid stories are to be believed, the man standing right in front of me is undeniably something else as well: God’s gift to the female orgasm.

This is a very bad idea, Elsa.

Shut up, brain. Maybe it’s a genius one.

I came here tonight for a very specific reason. But it doesn’t have to suck, right? No pun intended. I don’thaveto get whipped and chained up by the creepy bearded Dom. I don’thaveto mix losing my virginity with experiments in my own sexuality with Mr. and Mrs. “three is a delightful crowd” over there.

If the whole point of the evening was, and is, to get this over with already…whynotdo it with a man like Hades, who obviouslyvery muchknows what he’s doing?

If you’re going to learn how to drive, it might as well be in a Lamborghini, right?

What the hell are you thinking, woman?

I ignore the worried voice in my head as I turn to the bartender and order two shots of vodka, chilled. The first goes down easily, and I can feel it doing its job already as I feel myself loosen up.

I’m wearing a mask. My distinct white-blonde hair is covered. And this has got to be the last place on earth Hades would ever expect to find buttoned-up prim and proper Elsa Guin, attorney-at-law.

There’s my voice, of course. The London accent could give me away pretty quickly. But I have a solution for even that.

“Jolene” is a twangy-voiced character I made up to amuse Nora with when we first moved to the States—an American southern gal modeled entirely on the incredible Dolly Parton, hence her name, a hat tip to the song. I’ve gotten frighteningly good it, too.

I take one more breath, still feeling like I’m standing at the edge of a cliff, trying to decide if I’m really going to jump or not.

But I already know I am. I have to.

I won’t be anyone’s pawn anymore. This is my choice. My power, taken back.

Fuck you, Leo.

In one motion, before I can second guess myself or chicken out, I slug back the second shot of vodka, grab Hades’ jacket, and yank him around to face me. His brow furrows, his gorgeous, sinfully dangerous icy-blue eyes stab right into me.

But I don’t give them any time to do their damage. Instead, I grab his tie, rise up on the balls of my feet, and yank his mouth down to mine.

And the whole world disappears.

All of it. The music, the people, the anxiety, Leo and his threats, the orgy, even the girl huffing behind him before she stalks off. It all fades away until all I know is the feel of his perfect lips crushed to mine.

---