Page 19 of Of Desire And Deception

I grabbed the gin, maraschino cherries, lemon juice, and tonic water. If he wanted a cherry, I’d give him a damn cherry. His attention didn’t waver as I added ice to the glass and drizzled cherry juice in, then layered the other ingredients, topping it off with three cherries on a stick as he’d instructed. When I set it on a new napkin, I bowed as if offering it to royalty.

Cosimo took a sip of the drink and nodded his approval. “It’s good.”

“Not too girly for you?” I teased.

“Why would a drink have a gender?”

Well, that joke had fallen flat. Most men wouldn’t be caught dead with a pink drink. Then again, most men weren’t Cosimo Neretti. I sighed and wiped down the counter.

“Hey, goldilocks.” There was that stupidly suave voice again.

Hesitantly, I looked up to find him offering me one of the cherries. I stared at it warily.

“Come on,” Cosimo urged. “Let’s see what that tongue can do.”

“You want me to have a stem-tying contest with you like a child?” I asked, shocked at his playful suggestion. He nodded, then used his teeth to pull another cherry from the stick. “Fuck it.”

I reached for the cherry, but he pulled his hand away, grinning as he pulled the stem from his cherry and chewed slowly. The man wanted me to eat from his hand? Fine, I could do that. But I’d make him ache while I did it.

Slowly, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the bar. My breasts brushed against Cosimo’s arm, and his jaw tightened. He licked his lips when I opened my mouth and tipped my head back, sliding my tongue out for him to place the cherry. He held onto the stem while I curled my tongue around the cherry and pulled it free with my teeth, quickly chewing and swallowing as I stared at him. It was suggestive, but not as suggestive as the next part.

His hand was still frozen there, so I opened my mouth and wrapped my lips around his finger and thumb, sucking as I pulled the stem from his grasp. Cosimo sucked in a breath and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

I tucked the cherry stem in my cheek. “You’re going to lose the race, boss man.”

That got him to move. He popped his stem in his mouth, and I resumed tying mine. It had been years since I’d attempted that little trick. Probably back in college at a frat party, when people still thought your ability to tie a cherry stem said something about your sexual prowess. While I was confident I could make a man’s eyes roll back in his head while sucking his dick, I sure as hell didn’t learn to do it by tying the little red stems.

I poked the end of the stem through the circle I’d formed with my tongue and was about to pull it from my mouth when Cosimo held up his stem—tied twice.

“I win,” he said, voice low.

I pulled my stem free, but it was sad compared to his oral masterpiece. “Point to you, boss.”

“Cosimo.” He sipped on his pink drink. “Call me Cosimo.”

The name was on the tip of my tongue, but I remembered myself at the last second. I shook my head, knowing my hair would catch the light as it swayed. Sure enough, Cosimo was drawn to the movement. I shrugged my shoulders. “Sorry, boss, no can do. That wouldn’t be very professional of me.”

“I don’t need you to be professional,” he growled, standing and towering over me with the bar as my only salvation from a man who looked slightly unhinged. “I need you to say my name.”

Every word rang true, tempting me to acquiesce, but I couldn’t. If he wanted me, I would make him work a bit for it to ensure the hook held by the time he swallowed it.

“Can I get you anything else, Mr. Neretti?” I asked, holding firm.

Cosimo’s eyes darkened like a storm waiting to break, and I stumbled back a step. The look was gone in an instant, and he faced me with that cold, aloof expression. “No. Goodnight, goldilocks.”

It was how he signed off every one of our encounters, but something about this one stung like I’d let him down. I didn’t like how that felt, especially since I wasn’t supposed to feel anything when it came to Cosimo Neretti. Nothing aside from rage and the desire for vengeance.

I stood there, watching his back as he disappeared through the door, then let out a long sigh, reviewing what had just happened. Fucking cherry stems. I would have to put that in a report, and my superiors would read that.

Cosimo Neretti challenged me to a cherry stem tying contest. Then he soundly beat me, and I wondered if there was some truth to the rumor about oral skills because he left me without a doubt about his.

I sure as fuck wasn’t putting the last part in the report. It would be difficult enough to stomach the jokes over the first half. I could practically hear my team members dubbing me Cherry forever.

Fuck my life. And fuck Cosimo Neretti.

Wait, no.

Don’t fuck him.

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