“Caviar-and-cucumber bites,” Briggs announces. “And another round of drinks.”
“MonsieurBriggs,” Tavi says sweetly. “I love you.”
“Merci beaucoup.” As soon as he sets the fresh tray down, he exits quietly.
Eden types a text and then drops her phone in her Chanel calfskin bag. When she picks up her fresh Old Fashioned, she says, “I have a prediction.”
“I don’t want to hear it. I’mdonetalking about the great Dane.” Picking up my cocktail napkin and a caviar appetizer, I rise.
Standing in front of a built-in bookshelf, I stare blankly at books I will never read.
“Hey.”
Startled by Eden’s breathy voice in my ear, I jerk, practically choking on the caviar-cucumber finger sandwich. Thankfully it’s all in my mouth, rather than on the napkin that falls to the floor. “Jesus, Eden.” I bend down to grab the napkin, shaking my head.
When I stand, Eden strokes my hair as she whispers. “Hey, you know I love you, right? So if Erik asks you questions about the night you chickened out of going to the Marquis Club, just tell him the truth.”
I stiffen. The Marquis Club is a super swank, top secret BDSM club made up of mega-millionaires with ties to the Ivy League. It’s invitation-only for prospective members. Eden has visited the club twice. Tavi visited once and was offered a membership on the spot as a club submissive.
Because both my girls raved about their nights there, I was curious and wanted to experience it, too. I got an invitation but lost my nerve at the last minute.
“You did not send him a fucking text about that,” I snap.
“If he’s never heard of it, he won’t know to be curious,” she says, continuing to whisper.
“First of all, he’s a goddamned reporter, so yeah, he’ll be curious if you tease him with secret information. God damn it, Eden.” My head turns toward her and I scowl. “And second, of course he won’t know about it. Why would he?”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I remember his journal.Dungeon. Girl bound naked.
“A little bird told me he’s adventurous in bed,” Eden says. “Likes to be in control.”
Arousal burns through my loins. The thought of Erik Sorensen’s massively strong and beautiful body forcing mine to do wicked things… I almost combust.
For fuck’s sake.“Don’t push, Eden. This is none of your business.”
“I’m done. No more interference. I just wanted to get the ball rolling.” She strolls to the couch and dumps out her Chanel bag, which she carries back to me. “Here, babe. I know you love this one.Mea culpa, okay?” Eden is crazy drunk. She has to be.
“You’re ridiculous right now.”
She shoves the straps into my hands and closes my fingers around them. “Tell me you love me.”
“Fuck off,” I whisper, taking the bag. I do love it and her, but I’m still pissed.
Eden smiles and kisses my cheek. “Don’t be angry.” Her lips pout. “Heartbreaker.”
“Yeah, that’s me. No boyfriend for months and months, but I’m the heartbreaker.”
“You intimidate them.”
Not all of them.
The Viking was quick with a sarcastic retort when I teasingly asked if he felt threatened by me. Sorensen is many things, but easily intimidated is not one of them. That’s the sexy side of being a brutal bastard.
And unfortunately, it’s like catnip. So bad for me. And yet, exactly what I crave.
10
ERIK
