Betrayed (Dark Desires 2)

“Okay, it was going to be on the house,” I said, bringing the icy bottle to my lips and taking a slow sip. My eyes went over her as I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand.

She had to be the best-looking woman ever to set foot in Dick’s. Fuck, she was the best-looking woman I’d seen in a long time outside of the place.

Up close, her hair was the color of a raven’s wings. She had on heavy black eyeliner and dark lipstick that did not hide her delicate features.

She wasn’t what the kids called “goth”.

She was just dark and mysterious, like the queen of a biker bar where they only let good-looking people in.

I wondered what she looked like without all that shit on her face. How would she look stepping naked from the shower with only drops of water clinging to her soft skin? For that matter, how would she look in the shower from behind, all soaped up and bent over with my hands digging into her hips and my cock slamming into her pussy?

I shook off the fantasy and let my eyes drift down from hers. She had a long neck and big milky tits with deep cleavage that made my mouth water. Her shoulders and upper arms were covered in flowers and butterflies and smiling skulls. She had a little diamond pierced into the right side of her nose.

If the rest of her, the part I couldn’t see because of the bar, was as hot as what I was looking at now, this was a woman I had to get to know.

“That’s a lot of ink,” I said, letting my eyes go around her shoulders. I leaned back against the bar and crossed my arms over my chest so she could see the tats going up my biceps into my black t-shirt. “Must have hurt like a motherfucker.”

“It was a little unpleasant,” she said. She picked up the tequila shot and brought it to her lips. She hesitated for a moment, then tilted her head back and tossed the bitter shot into her mouth. Her eyes widened for a second and filled with tears as the tequila burned its way down her throat. She started to gag a little. She covered her lips with her hand. For a second, I thought she was going to throw it back up on me.

I chuckled and held out the beer. “Here, chase it with this. Makes the burn go away.”

She shook her head for a moment, then reached for the beer and took a long, cooling pull from the bottle. I covered my smile with a hand and watched her recover.

“Jesus,” she said, tongue hanging out, panting like a dog. “That really burns.”

I couldn’t help but laugh when she tilted the bottle again and drained it dry. I stuck out my hand and gave her my best non-threatening smile.

“I’m Rick,” I said. “Welcome to my place.”

SANDY

When I slipped my hand in his, I expected to be filled with a sense of revulsion, like touching the claws of the monster that had slaughtered your family. I held my breath and forced a smile as his long fingers closed around mine and he gave my hand a gentle shake.

I swallowed the lump that had lodged in my throat.

I said, “Hi, Rick, I’m Sandy.”

“Nice to meet you, Sandy,” he said, letting go of my hand and picking up the empty shot glass. He wiggled it at me. “Do you want another shot or something a little less toxic?”

I held the smile as I stared into his eyes. They were gorgeous, deep blue, with dark irises and long lashes. Everything about him was gorgeous, from his warm smile to the Kennedy jawline to the thick muscles of his shoulders and chest. His brown hair was cut short on the sides and pushed back from his tanned forehead. He had several days’ worth of thick stubble on his cheeks and chin. When he grinned, I saw a mouthful of perfect teeth. There was no silver tooth shining back at me.

“I think I’ll take one of those beers,” I said. My eyes tracked him as he went to the other end of the bar to pull two bottles of Coors from the cooler. His broad back tapered into the narrow waist of his black jeans. His ass was tight and compact. His legs were incredibly long. He was 6’4, according to his dossier. Brent was just 5’9. I towered over him in heels. I had planned to get married wearing flats. If I was standing toe to toe with Rick Wright, he’d tower over me.

He was the hottest man I’d ever seen up close, but he was still a monster. He might not have pulled the trigger that killed Brent, but he was responsible still the same. It was his gang, his deal, his fault.

“So, Sandy, what brings you to the dark side of town tonight?” he asked as he placed a napkin on the bar and set the icy bottle of beer on top of it. He took a step back and brought his bottle to his lips. “Looking for someone or just slumming?”

I took a slow sip of the beer and licked my lips. I had never been a beer drinker, but it wasn’t too bad. I could get accustomed to the taste much quicker than I could tequila.

I let my eyes around the bar to avoid looking at him. There was something in his stare that made me uneasy, like being watched from the shadows by a wolf that intended to devour you the moment your back is turned.

I took another sip and asked, “Why would you think I was looking for someone?”

He shrugged. “Why else would you be here?”

“Maybe I just wanted a drink,” I said with a shrug. I held the bottle between my hands to keep them fr

om shaking. I’d imagined this moment for weeks. I had told myself that I could handle the pressure of meeting him, that I could convince him of the lie, that I could kill him when the time came.