Page 7 of F*ck Steal Kill

“Wha-a-a-t?” he asked, licking his lips.

“Let’s do something crazy and go back to your room.” My fingers began to walk up his thigh as I moved closer. “I always wanted to go to Paris. We could get naked under the Eiffel Tower… together.”

Patrick coughed, his face flaming bright red. This guy made me question my ability to flirt. But with how often he blushed and stumbled over his words, I was halfway to believing this was his first time away from home and perhaps… a virgin.

How had I missed that?

“Oh, um, well, I…” he spluttered, his eyes wide with shock.

Sliding off the stool, I stepped in between his legs. My hand grazed his groin, finding his dick hard. Okay, I could work with this. He was interested, just a little shy.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I played with the hair at the back of his nape and stepped even closer. Pressing my boobs against his chest, I grinned when I caught his eyes dropping to my cleavage.

Winner, winner.

He gulped again, and I wondered if that was his trademark response.

“Do you not like me, Patrick?” I purred, my lips so close to his that I could almost kiss him.

“No. I mean, yes, I like you. I just—”

“Then I’ll make it easy for you. I want you, Patrick.”

“It’s just.” He shook his head, his words dying on his lips.

“What is it?” I tilted my head, my eyes catching the man sitting next to him. He watched me, a curious tilt to his lips as he drank his whiskey.

His eyes were pools of darkness, making it difficult to decipher the emotions swimming there. His hair was jet black and shorn close to his scalp, accentuating his light brown skin. He was gorgeous in a completely deadly way.

He was the type of man I was putty for but often avoided, choosing to stay more in control of my sexual exploits after the last time I’d been with a man like him. Though, I didn’t know if there were any men quite like him. He had an air about him, an energy I’d never felt before. It was electric, drawing me in like a bug-zapping machine.

My eyes lifted back to his, finding them trained on me. He sipped his drink, a challenge forming in them as I continued to stare, his smirk growing with each second we held each other’s gaze. It was only when he motioned toward my date with his glass that I remembered I was busy.

My cheeks heated, and I returned to Patrick, despite how my body was now responding to the man behind him. It only highlighted the dullness I felt to the man I currently stood in front of.

Moving my fingers in his hair, I licked my lips and peered into Patrick’s dull brown eyes, nowhere near as magnetic as the stranger’s behind him. He seemed shell-shocked, and I suddenly found the whole seduction exhausting.

He might be safe, but if I was honest with myself, I knew I’d end up pleasing myself with the toy hidden in my purse afterward.

Why was I working so hard to get him to take me back to his room? For what? A few bumbling kisses and thrusts just so he could have a story to take home to his buddies? Leaving me to ensure my own happy ending… alone.

“Okay,” he finally mumbled, pulling me out of my spiral. He nodded like an enthusiastic puppy, looking overly excited now, and I inwardly worried he’d pee on my leg in his excitement. Not my kink.

Typically, the feeling of persuading them fulfilled me and pushed me to carry out the deed, even if it was a bit lackluster. But tonight, with one look from a sexy stranger, I was left feeling empty and exhausted.

“Perfect. I just need to step away to the little girl’s room for a second. I’ll meet you outside?” My voice was strained, panic gripping me for some unknown reason.

His brows furrowed, but he nodded, focusing back on my cleavage. I waved my fingers, pivoting as I swung my hips, the tiny shorts I’d worn accentuating my butt as I hurried away to freak out in peace.

I didn’t know why I’d mentioned needing a minute, but I was glad I had. Unease and panic continued to grip me as I neared the restroom, and I slammed into the door, stumbling over my feet. I’d worked so hard to never feel helpless again that I didn’t want to slip now.

Turning on the cold water, I shoved my hands under the faucet and let the cool temp calm the raging turmoil inside of me. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, looking for the crack in my composure, but I couldn’t find anything. The black eyeliner swooped out in a flawless curve, the dark lipstick fully covered my pouty lips, and my pink wig sat perfectly in place, not a hair out of place.

It was only my green eyes that seemed off. The fierceness I typically carried was gone, leaving a dullness behind.

“Alright, time to buck up and get it back. It’s time to rock this guy’s world and remember who you are,” I whispered to myself, lifting my chin. Sucking in a breath, I pivoted on my heels, shocked when the door opened, and a man stepped through.

It only took me a second to realize it was the stranger from the bar. My heart galloped as I gaped at him. He was even sexier in full view. Dressed in all black, his jeans and shirt were plastered to his body, adding to his appeal. This man would know how to treat a woman in bed. There was no doubt in my mind. Even this stranger’s pinky toe had more sex appeal than stumbling Patrick at the bar.

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