His Cocky Valet: After Story (Undue Arrogance #1.5) by Cole McCade

Author:Cole McCade [McCade, Cole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-10-29T18:00:00+00:00

THE END

Read on for an excerpt from His Cocky Cellist (Undue Arrogance #2!)

SNEAK PREVIEW: HIS COCKY CELLIST

(UNDUE ARROGANCE #2)

Amani flicked Vic over with an inscrutable look, tawny eyes skeptical. “Are you like this with everyone?”

“Like what?”

“Suave.” Amani leaned against the wall next to the window. The faint light from outside slipped through the curtains like a thief, stealing secret and quiet to play over the high angles of his cheekbones, the delicate point of his chin, pulling his darkness from the night to define him with silvered edges against burnished skin. “There’s a subtle air of cockiness, with you. You’ve got this disarming charm, but underneath there’s this confidence that if you just say something intimate, linger with a penetrating look…anyone will fall at your feet.”

Yet if anyone was drawing anyone in with penetrating looks…it was Amani, the knowing surety in his heavy-lidded gaze seeming to tug at the strings holding Vic together, threatening to unravel him into pieces and put him back together as something else. Someone else. Someone he didn’t know or understand, when the self he’d thought he’d known would never have lingered on the coolly mocking curve of Amani’s mouth, the fullness of his deeply red lips, the way the sweeps and angles of his lashes turned his gaze into a sly thing of catseye curiosity and alluring distance that only dared Vic to try to get closer.

To touch the untouchable.

And perhaps one part of him wanted to accept that dare, to challenge it, for he drew a step nearer, closing the distance between them. “You think I’m trying to make you fall at my feet, Amani?”

“Not deliberately.” Amani cocked his head, the tumbling fall of his glossy black hair drifting across his face, teasing against his mouth, as he regarded Vic. “But I think you don’t know how to turn off, even with people you aren’t interested in. Is that the real reason you don’t date?” His eyes glittered, his gaze pointed. “Because you like to chase, but not to catch. You like to lure people in, capture them, but never keep them.”

“I…I don’t know.” The sarcastic rejoinder on Vic’s tongue dried. He was accustomed to having an easy answer for everything, but he didn’t have an easy answer for this—and it ached, when he thought about it. When he thought about the emptiness of it. Still he drew closer, until he drifted to a halt before Amani, looking down at the man who, if he were honest with himself, was entirely beautiful in the shimmering evening light. “You don’t even know me. How do you know me?”

“I know men,” Amani murmured, leaning toward him. “Part of who I am and what I do is seeing people. Intuiting them. Understanding them.”

Vic chuckled briefly. The closer Amani drew, the harder it was to think, the heady scent of smoky vanilla washing over Vic and stealing into his veins until his blood ran too hot, seeming to sear him from the inside out until his voice was a raw and tattered thing in his throat.

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