Authors: Dani Matthews
Poison Me Sweetly
This book is meant for entertainment purposes only.
Names, characters, and events are all a product of the author's imagination.
Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. All comments
and conversations written within these pages, are part of a fictional story and
not meant to be taken in the literal sense. The author retains all rights to
this book. Illegal copying or distribution of this book is prohibited without
author consent.
For a woman who has been a good friend for years,
always entertaining me with her honesty and boldness. Like Zoey, she's fierce and
full of sass. You never know what she's going to say, and that's what makes her
unique and fun. I'm lucky to have such a fantastic woman as a friend. This
one’s for you Jess!
. 4. 19. 32. 63. 69
94. 103. 116. 122. 135. 142. 150. 161. 175. 193. 214. 225. 232. 245
Someone nudges my hip, urging me back to
consciousness. I wince and struggle to drift back to the blessed oblivion I've
been so rudely yanked out of. My head is pounding like a bitch, and I know I'm
suffering from a hangover. Not surprising. I have a love/hate relationship with
alcohol. It's my best friend, but come morning, it's like that one-night stand
you just can't seem to get rid of.
My hip is nudged again, this time more firmly. “Up and
at '
em
, sweetheart,” a velvety masculine voice
drawls, and I mean literally 'drawls'. There's a hint of a southern accent in
the tone.
Shit.
I'm becoming aware of the fact that I am naked but for
my lace panties. I'm on my stomach, and going by the cool air lingering on my
butt cheeks, I'm not covered. Not that my nakedness bothers me. It's the fact
that I can sense
it's
morning, and I've stayed in some
strange man's apartment all night that is the issue. I don't do mornings. I
take what I want and leave afterwards.
“I know you're awake over there.”
Ugh. I hate cheerful people. I am
not
a morning
person. “Give me a sec,” I grumble into the mattress, not bothering to open my
eyes.
“We have a bit of a problem over here. As much as I'm
enjoying the view of your delectable ass, I'd like to leave.”
Leave? I pry my eyelids apart and can feel that my
mascara has clumped around my eyelashes during the night. After blinking a few
times, I slowly raise my head and stare down at the ugly-ass bed sheets that
Ace had bought me. They are black with big red monstrous flowers. He'd bought
them for me six months ago, insisting my bedroom needed some personality since
I refused to do anything to decorate it.
It sinks in that I'd brought a guy home with me.
I just broke one of the few rules I actually have and
refuse to stray from. I never,
ever
bring a guy home. The first and only
time I had, the guy had expected breakfast the following morning, and it'd
taken me an hour to get him out the door.
With great reluctance, I force myself to sit up.
Ignoring the throbbing in my head, I peer at the other side of the bed, and my
mouth drops open. Holy...
Now that is one fine specimen of masculinity stretched
out on my bed. And he's not wearing a stitch of clothing. My eyes travel over
his tanned body, and I can't help but admire it. Especially the area between
his legs. That part of his anatomy looks very happy to have my gaze admiring
it. My eyebrows move upward as it rises to the occasion. Clearly, it's up for
some fun even if the owner isn't.
A low chuckle escapes said owner. “Yeah, you were
pretty fascinated with it last night, as well.”
I
bet.
My
gaze drags up the distinct V at his hips, then up
that rigid stomach and over pectoral muscles. He's pure perfection. In my mind,
Ace's body has always been number one on my mental list of hot bods, but this
guy really has some hotness going on. My gaze eventually settles on his face.
His eyes are the first thing I notice. They are light blue with a hint of gold
or light brown edging around the outside of his pupil. I can see the teasing
glint in their depths as he gazes back at me. I manage to tear my eyes away
from them to take in his short dark hair that has a tiny bit of curl to it.
It's mussed from the pillow and looks adorable rather than messy bed-head. A
slight shadow of whiskers covers his strong jawline, and his lips
look...sinfully delicious. There is a natural curve in one corner, giving the
impression that he's about ready to break into a smile. I wonder what he looks
like when he's pissed. That curve has got to ruin it when he's trying to make a
point to someone when he's angry.
His eyes drop to my bare breasts that I haven't
bothered to cover. I have a great rack, and I don't mind showing them off. I
like my body. Men seem to love it even more. “As much as I love the sight of
you, I want you to release me,” he says with amusement.
I blink. Release him? I frown and glance back at his
erection. It's still standing to attention. Is that his weird way of asking me
to take care of business?
“You don't remember a damn thing, do you?” he mutters
under his breath.
I turn my attention back to his face. “Nope.” I frown
and study his features. “Do I know you? You look familiar.”
“I'm friends with Ace and the guys.”
“Ah, that's it!” I say, snapping my fingers. “You
transferred from Tennessee this year. Ace mentioned showing you around or
something a while back.” I remember seeing him with the group every so often.
He always seems to have a different girl on his arm every time, so I've never
paid him much attention. I don't go after taken men.
He looks at me patiently. “I'd love to sit here and
converse with you or even more,” he says, his eyes drifting back over my
breasts, “but I really need to get out of these handcuffs.”
“Handcuffs?” For the first time it dawns on me that
his arms are up and over his head. He jerks his wrists, and something clinks
against the wrought iron bars of my headboard. “You handcuffed yourself to my
bed?” I ask incredulously.
Impatience begins to gleam in his eyes. “No,
sweetheart, you did.”
I snort. “Yeah, not likely. I don't do kink.” I think
of Ace.
Yeah, I definitely don't do kink.
“Well, you did last night. Where's the key?”
His words are beginning to sink in. It must be the stupid
hangover that has my brain working at a snail's pace this morning. I crawl up
the side of the bed, then lean over him as I peer at his wrists that seem to be
secured to one of the thick wrought iron bars. My eyes take in the familiar
fuzzy, pink handcuffs, and I groan. They’re Ace's.
What the hell?
“Fuck. Put a shirt on, please,” the man urges in a
thick voice.
I look down and see that my breasts are almost in his
face. I can't help but smirk. “Most men would enjoy being in your situation.”
He drags his eyes up to meet my gaze. “I've had to
piss since three AM.”
I realize he has been handcuffed to my bed
all
night with not a stitch of clothing and not even a sheet to cover up with. I
fight back a laugh as the hilarity of the situation begins to creep up on me.
The earlier horror of finding a man in my bed has faded. I mean seriously, it's
not every day I wake up to a gorgeous naked man cuffed to my bed. I might as
well enjoy it before I boot his ass out the door. Though if my head wasn't
aching so much, I'd seriously consider tasting the goods first before kicking
his fine ass out.
“Since you insist,” I murmur as I move back and climb
off the bed. I take a moment to stretch, because my muscles feel tight this
morning. Clothing is strewn all over the floor of my bedroom. Some of it is
his, the rest is mine. I'm not exactly the type that keeps her place picked up.
I'm a total slob. I grab the first shirt I see and slip it on before walking
over to his side of the bed where the nightstand is located. I lean over and
scan the surface. Beer bottles sit on it along with several unused condom
packets.
Condoms.
My gaze drops to the floor around the bed, and I
anxiously scan it, looking for used condoms. I don't see any. My heart pounds
in my chest as I turn and look at him with growing panic. “We didn't use
condoms?” If we hadn't, he's going to stay handcuffed to my bed while I
castrate him. Painfully and slowly.
“We didn't have sex,” he tells dryly.
“We didn't?” I gesture to his nakedness. “You're there
and all...”
He gives me a rueful look. “You cuffed me, started
doing what you promised, then you passed out with your head in my crotch.”
“I passed out?”
“Yes,” he bites out, impatience edging his tone again.
“We never got to the good stuff. The
key
. Find it.”
I can't help but stare at him for a long moment. First
off, that little curve turns down when he's unhappy, so there's my answer. And
he's still ridiculously gorgeous when annoyed. Then my thoughts shift. I'd
passed out on him. Leaving him... My lips twitch, and I fight back a snicker
before I realize the handcuff part isn't really all that funny. How in the hell
did he end up handcuffed to my own bed? Especially with
those
cuffs? The
last time I saw them, I'd avoided them like the plague.
I drop to the floor and begin searching for the key
along the carpet. “What exactly happened last night? I remember showing up at
the party, but that's about it,” I say as I start looking under the bed, my
hand running across the carpet.
“We hit it off at the party, and you made some sort of
joke about cuffs. Then you started asking if I'd ever allow someone to cuff me
to a bed if they promised to do some naughty things to certain parts of my
anatomy,” he says dryly. “It turned into a running joke most of the evening. By
the time things were winding down, I'd been sporting a boner for hours.”
I roll my eyes as I continue peering around the floor.
I'm not seeing the key, so I wiggle underneath the bed slightly. It's dark
beneath the bed, and my hand brushes some fabric. I pull it closer and see it's
a bra that I'd been missing for the past several weeks. It matches the black
garter belt and stocking set I have. “So, what? You stole the cuffs from Ace's
drawer and handcuffed yourself to my bed?” I ask as I toss the bra behind me to
land in the middle of my room before I sweep the carpet again with my hand.
“No,
you
stole the cuffs and brought me over
here where you promised to follow through with all the things you'd been
whispering in my ear all night.”
Wait a second.
I jerk my head and shoulders out from beneath the bed,
sitting up to peer at him. “I don't do cuffs. I wouldn't just steal them, then
prance on over here and cuff you.” My eyes narrow on him suspiciously. “What'd
you say to me?”
He turns his head to meet my gaze, and a smile of pure
sin curves his lips, causing my insides to melt. “You strike me as the type of
woman that doesn't turn down dares. I was right.”
Am I really that easy to read? I can't help but inwardly
grimace, because he's right. A dare would have me stealing the cuffs to prove I
could. I don't turn down dares. Unless I'm the one being restrained. That I
would turn down in a heartbeat. I like my control. I don't ever give it up, but
that doesn't mean I do Ace’s kind of kink.
I tilt my head slightly, and my eyes roam his naked
body sprawled out on my bed. He doesn't seem like the submissive type. He looks
domineering, like Ace. It's the gleam in his eye that gives it away as he looks
at me. I'm betting this is a new experience for him. “You don't strike me as
the type to give up control.”
His gaze holds mine. “I'm not. But when a woman like
you promises the things you promised, a man could find himself willingly
restrained if that's the price he has to pay. And sweetheart, you were really
getting me hot and bothered.” His eyes narrow dangerously on me. “You knew it,
too. You were teasing me, rubbing yourself all over me most of the night.”
I mull over his words and realize he must've been
acting cocky, because I don't usually go after guys like that. And I don't have
to work too hard to get them in my bed, either. I don't have to. But last night
I'd worked him over real good during the party, and there'd been a reason
behind it. My guess is I’d planned on knocking his ego down a notch, but after
enough alcohol, I'd decided I'd rather get laid than leave him high and dry.
I stifle a laugh and arch an eyebrow. “Was it all that
you wanted it to be?”
He jerks on the cuffs and growls at me. It's low, and
rumbly, and all sorts of sexy. His blue eyes begin to simmer while his accent
becomes more pronounced as he grits out, “Either un-cuff me or buy a new
mattress. I can either piss right here or be a gentleman and piss in your
toilet.”
His anger doesn't faze me, and I give him a saccharin
smile. “Maybe next time you should try to manipulate and seduce a sober woman,
not someone who is beyond tanked.” I wave a hand at his naked form cuffed to my
bed. “Perhaps this will be a lesson learned.”
I had to have been totally annihilated last night to
wake up this morning to this ridiculous predicament. I can usually hold my
liquor pretty well, but once I reach my limit, I'm known to be smiling and
laughing one minute, and then on the floor within the next. The guys next door
hate it when I go beyond my limit.
The man sighs, and it's not the sigh of annoyance that
I was expecting. “You're right,” he concedes.
“I am?” I ask with surprise.
His gaze slides back to me. “I didn't realize how
drunk you were. You seemed sober enough. Your speech was distinct, and even in
those fuck-me heels of yours, you were
walkin
' just
fine.”
Huh. I wasn't expecting that. I chew my lip for a
second and shrug. “Once I reach my limit, I go down fast.”
He snorts. “I figured that out when you passed out
with your mouth inches from my dick.” Now he's the one who smirks as he says,
“You're lucky I'm a nice guy, and I nudged you over and off me. I could have
left you there all night.”