Broken & Betrayed by J. S. Striker

Author:J. S. Striker [Striker, J. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-02-02T16:00:00+00:00

It became a game of distraction, but more so of seeing who gave in first. The night wore on, numbered by the upcoming event, where she would be faced with either of two outcomes: a life taken, or a life returned to her. The rush of customers ensured Jason would be working front and center, but she paid him no heed and focused until a body bumped into hers. Hands reached out to catch before she could stumble, fingers brushing her elbows as she shivered.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you. Carry on,” Jason said breezily, then was off to get stuff from the stockroom.

She stood at the bar and helped hand drinks over to Hero, then headed to the back when Tad asked for backup. Knuckles grazed the nape of her neck, a touch she recognized instantly as her senses went haywire. She narrowed her eyes at Jason’s retreating form, then snapped her attention back to take an order.

“I’ll handle table ten,” Tad announced. “I need help with a Willy Wonka.”

Translation: a table that is here just for dessert.

“I’m on it,” she said, snatching the note from his hand and conversing with Sammy.

“God, are you sure they need ten? Do we even have time?”

“Should I decline and tell them there’s cake?”

Sammy’s expression blazed with the challenge. “There will be cake, flan, and a variety of delicacies in an hour. Serve them drinks while they wait.”

“I’m on it.”

The rest got on board, adjusting like they often did like a well-oiled machine. A thrill rushed through her that she was part of that team now. She headed to the back to grab materials and found Jason already there, just as in tune.

She eyed his form, stretching to reach something from a top shelf, the hem of his shirt lifting at the action. Her mouth watered at the ripple of muscles before frustration set in. Then an idea formed: wicked, stupid, unnecessary. But her feet were already moving.

“Don’t mind me. I just need to get something.”

Carefully, she squeezed in between the shelf and him, eliciting a stillness from him. Then she bent down until she was in line with his crotch, rotated to insert her arm in the bottom shelf. When her balance went off, she grabbed the back of his thigh for support.

Two can play at that game.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s dark down here.”

She was so smug, so sure she got him from the tensing of his muscles. But she didn’t account for her perfect vision as she turned, ready to take in the face of someone one-upped.

Her plan of vengeance flew out the window at the sight of his erection bulking up his pants, so close to her mouth. She licked her dry lips. He groaned and forgot about the crates, reaching to wrench her up instead. They didn’t move. They didn’t speak, either, just breathing each other in, the quietness providing the closeness she had been avoiding so thoroughly.

“You’re a sneaky bastard, Jason Niles.”

He didn’t protest, merely brushed his nose against hers.

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