Chapter One
Jocelyn
I was so nervous.Oh God, I was so nervous.
You know that thing where you flap your hands around, trying to—I dunno—cool them off or cool yourself off? Well, the only reason I wasn’t doing that was because doing that sort of thing in a hotel bar would make me look even weirder.
Not that I wasn’t already getting lots of looks; Brakkor’s text had told me to wear somethingred and sexy, and I’d done it. The slinky red dress had spaghetti straps that were working overtime holding up my size-Ds, and the skirt barely covered my ass.
The bartender kept looking at me like I was a hooker, and he wasn’t sure if he should proposition me or call the cops.
Or maybe he was just pissed I’d been nursing this vodka tonic for the last twenty minutes.
Well, I couldn’t help myself; I’d gotten here early, hoping that would make me feel calmer about what I was about to do, and I didn’t want to be drunk when I experienced what promised to be the best night of my life. So vodka-tonic-nursing was happening. Sue me.
Each time someone stepped into the bar, or walked past the opening, my head swung up and around. I kept pushing my hair over my shoulder; it was annoying having it down like this, but Kesha told me it looked the best down, and I had to trust her.
At least I didn’t have to worry about being confused about which one of the single men sitting here was my date.
Sorry; myhookup. Brakkor and I had an agreement: this was a one-night thing, over and done, no strings.
Mutually beneficial, that’s what he’d called it, and I had to admit I liked the way he approached things.
The MosterSmash app had a whole section for casual hookups like this; we both uploaded our medical history so we knew the other was clean, and it wasn’t like he could get me pregnant. I’d spent my whole adult life fantasizing about what it would be like to sleep with an orc, and I’d decided I was finally going to do it.
I wasn’t dating an orc; I wasn’tin love withan orc. I was just going to hook up with an orc, and he’d promised me I would enjoy it. That’s what I was after—one night of bliss.
“Sleep with”? Yeah right. You just want a good fucking.
I took another small sip of the vodka, hoping to calm the way my stomach had clenched at the thought ofwhat was coming. God, just talking to Brakkor over the phone yesterday—that gravelly, commanding voice making me go all gooey—had gotten me all hot and bothered. I’d pulled out my favorite toy and had some fun, which had apparently done fuck-all in terms of calming my nerves.
“Hey there, honey.”
The man’s voice had me whirling around, not toward the door, but toward the back half of the bar. For a moment, I worried Brakkor had managed to sneak around behind me, and I was flustered?—
But no.
It was a man—ahumanman, with the top two buttons of his shirt undone and his jacket slung over his shoulder. He looked like a businessman on a company expense account, and the way he was eyeing me made me think he was wondering if I accepted credit cards.
I wrinkled my nose, and I lifted my straw to my lips again, hoping he’d get the hint.
He didn’t.
With what he probably thought was a smooth smile, he slid onto the bar stool beside me and gestured to the bartender. “Get the lady another one. I’ll take a gin and tonic.” He turned a smarmy smile my way. “I’m Robert. What do you say to letting me buy you dinner? I hear they do a good steak here.”
I shook my head at the bartender, who’d thankfully glanced at me for confirmation, then looked around thebar. This was ahotel, for fuck’s sake, and not the Ritz. No one chose to eat out here.
“No thank you,” I managed primly. “I’m waiting for someone.”
His smile widened, and he nodded to the bartender who slid his glass to him. “That’s okay, honey.” He made another show of looking me up and down, his gaze lingering on my tits. “I can wait.”
I resisted the urge to cross my arms in front of me, and instead turned back to the bar, trying to block his view. When I’d been dressing earlier tonight, I’d thought I looked sexy and powerful and alluring.
The way thisRobertlooked at me made me feel cheap.
“You don’t need to,” I managed to rasp, thinking fast. “My boyfriend doesn’t like guys bothering me.”
The man snorted. “Boyfriend. Right.” To my surprise, he slapped a hundred-dollar bill on the bar beside me. “Look, honey, whatever he’s paying you, I can double it. I have a penthouse upstairs, I can make it worth your while.”
