King of Lies (Empire of Lies 1)

The Devil’s lips curved into a smile as he sat across from me. He pulled off his dark leather gloves, revealing a series of black tattoos that were inked on all of his knuckles. Within the intricately drawn spider’s web were four small skulls, and the most valuable chess piece—the queen. The tattoo was the same on both of his hands, and upon a second look, I noticed faint flames burning between a few gaps in the web.

“I um…” I felt my cheeks burning as he stared at me. “I’m not sure what to say right now.”

“I think, ‘Thank you for saving me’ will suffice.”

“What exactly do you think you saved me from?”

“A terribly boring date, for one. For two, I saved you from wasting more of your time on someone you clearly aren’t interested in.”

“I was definitely interested in him.”

“If you were, you wouldn’t have been staring at me,” he said. “And you damn sure wouldn’t have invited me to come.”

“I thought you were a fake sock-puppet.” I couldn’t stop staring at this man if I tried. “I wasn’t expecting you to actually show up and be real.”

“You have a very odd way of saying, thank you.”

“Thank you,” I said. “For the record, all of that stuff he was saying about me being single and down to fuck after a night weren’t really true. They’re um—”

“The exact words that are written on your profile.” He smirked and lifted his hand, signaling for the waitress. “Those are the tamest ones, though. If I were him, I would have flipped any of the other ones before saying them aloud. Something like, ‘I want to devour your pussy until you come on my face,’ or ‘I want to bury my cock so deep and hard inside of you, that no other man will ever compare.”

“Those lines aren’t on my profile.”

“If you’d ever fucked me, they would be.”

I crossed my legs and tried not to react to that.

“Yes?” The waitress approached our table, her cheeks still red. “What can I get for you this evening?”

“A fresh cup of coffee and a brownie. No peanuts, please.” He pulled a few hundred dollar bills from his pocket and held them out for her. “I also need to pay for whatever food was ordered before. Keep the change.”

She nodded and walked to the kitchen.

He untied the scarf and I noticed another tattoo inked low on his neck. This one featured a raven and the king chess piece, twisted in smaller and far more intricate web.

What do those tiny letters under the web say?

“I bet it’s hard to get a corporate job with all those tattoos,” I said, admiring the work. “Dare I ask what you do for a living?”

He smiled, and I was immediately wet. He didn’t answer my question, though. He just sat back as the waitress served his coffee.

She took a little too long to set it down on a plate, unnecessarily asking if it was hot enough before leaving us alone.

“They really are stunning tattoos,” I said, giving up on trying to read the tiny letters. “I don’t get to see too many like that on the people I know.” I paused. “They act like they’re too good for them…Do you have any more?”

“Several more.” He brought the coffee to his lips and took a long sip. “Do you have any?”

“A few. They’re hidden, though.”

“What was the point in getting them, if you were going to hide them?”

“I guess I like keeping them hidden because it’s like having something for myself. Something other people will never know.”

“Well, there’s something I’d like to know,” he said. “At what point in all your conversations with other men online did you say, ‘I’m down to fuck, let’s set up the date?’ Since I was flagged for being a fake account and only received left swipes from you, I’m truly curious.”

“I say that after determining that they’re worthy of being trusted,” I said. “I ask what kind of work they do, their real name, what they like to do on weekends.”

“I’m in the entertainment business and I own a lot of companies in this city,” he said. “My name is Michael Anderson, and I like to play chess. I also like to fuck.”

“Is that last line supposed to turn me on?”

“No,” he said. “Me staring at you from outside the window already did that. Did it not?”

I didn’t answer that. I’d never been this turned on at first sight with a stranger before. Never felt compelled to say, “You know what? Let’s just go back to my place right now and do away with this conversation.” This man could literally sit there and force me to concoct fantasies all day without even trying.

“What type of work do you do?” he asked. “Assuming that the whole ‘work in a coffee shop’ via your profile is a lie.”