Sweet Perdition (20 page)
She undid a few hooks on the front of her corset and turned around again. Winked. The corset peeled away from her skin. Damn that tattoo was fucking hot. He had the urge to trace the line of it with his tongue.
The corset dropped to the floor, but she wouldn’t turn around
.
She was so good at teasing. When, she finally came his way, she held the champagne flutes and he was treated to the sight of her breasts bouncing. Cowboy rubbed his hands up and down the length of his thighs, hoping to ease his need to touch her by stroking himself, trying desperately to quiet his greedy body. His good intentions nearly shredded by need.
“Champagne is delicious, although it is an acquired taste.” She set her glass down, but held on to his and then straddled him once more, knees on either side of his thighs.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Try it again, for me?” She brought it to his lips and he obligingly took another sip, some leaked from the corner of his mouth.
Yep, still tasted like shit, not that he fucking cared at the moment.
“Oh, you missed a spot.” She captured it with her fingertip and he sucked it in his mouth, licking the sweet little digit clean. Cowboy drew on her finger in a pantomime of what he’d rather be doing, sucking fiercely on one of her nipples. Both of them were hard, pinkish tan and so tantalizingly close he could fucking scream. The wild cat was killing him slowly.
Here voice lowered to a throaty whisper. “Here,” she said, pressing the glass to his lips once more, “have another drink.” He gulped down the rest of the foul-tasting stuff. He would have done anything to make her happy in that moment. He just didn’t want her to get off his lap.
She brought her mouth to his, soft lips grazing his. For a second, he thought she would kiss him, but no, she just teased him with the promise of one.
Damn. I’m going to cum in my pants.
And that’s when shit started to go south in a big way.
He suddenly felt a little lightheaded. Tipsy. But that was impossible, besides the girly champagne, he’d only had a couple of beers tonight. Okay, four beers. But that couldn’t be it. Now and then he’d stay out with the brothers all night, doing shots with beer chasers for hours sometimes. He had a high tolerance. Sure, he felt queasy as fuck afterwards and sometimes he even made an ass out of himself by singing
Ring of Fire
at the top of his lungs but he never,
ever
passed out. He could handle his liquor like a man.
But not this time.
A few drops of champagne had him feeling like a debutante on prom night. He had the strangest notion he’d just been fucked over.
He searched Daisy’s face, but she seemed perfectly fine. In fact, she’d dropped the stripper facade altogether and watched him with a raised eyebrow and an air of impatience.
What the hell? Did she drug me?
He slumped further down in his seat, nearly unable to keep his eyes open. He heard her chuckle as she crouched over him. He struggled to lift his head, move his arms, but it felt like lead weights had been cuffed to him.
“Lights out, Cowboy,” she purred.
And the world faded to fucking black.
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
