Page 69 of Bourbon Deceit
“Too helpful,” I said while I pulled away and made myself some coffee. It wasn’t the smooth brew I got when I was at the Lafayette Club, but it wasn’t dirt piss either.
Sitting down at the little kitchen table he had set up, I crossed my leg and said, “I like your place. It’s kind of neat. Where did you get the idea?”
He turned around to grab some more coffee, and that was when I noticed a giant tattoo across his back. I couldn’t tell what it was, because it was covered up by scars and lashings.
“Oh my God, what happened to you?”
His shoulders tensed from my question, but when he turned to face me, his expression remained neutral.
“How about we get to know each other first before we go diving into some serious stuff, eh?” he suggested, taking a sip of his coffee and sitting down at the table with me.
“Fair enough. Are you from the area?”
“Yup, born and raised, sweetheart. What about you?”
“Yes, I used to live over in the ninth ward until Hurricane Katrina came around.”
“That greedy bitch,” Diego said, adding a little bit of humor to an otherwise horrific tragedy.
“You could say that. So, where did you get the idea for the club?”
Leaning back in his chair, he looked at me with those gray eyes—an unusual color for a man with his deep skin tone, which made him all the more intriguing.
“Well, as you can tell from my choice of club, I enjoy a kinky lifestyle and wanted to open a legit kink club in New Orleans, not one of those cheap knock-offs that bachelor parties go to. I wanted to respect the lifestyle, you know?”
“Sort of. I don’t know much about it, I just do what Jett asks and if I don’t like it I say my safe word.”
Diego shook his head. “There is so much more to it, Goldie. Maybe while you’re here you’ll learn a thing or two.”
I snorted, feeling a little uncomfortable under his gaze. I knew he would never do anything, because he respected Jett too much, but the man had no problem showing he approved of my body, that was for sure.
“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
“I can teach you,” he said innocently.
“Ha! Yeah, that will happen the same day Jett Colby lets me tie him up and treat him as a whipping boy.”
“You never know.” Diego shrugged.
“Why don’t we just concentrate on the painting and leave my sex life out of this, okay?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” He smiled that sexy smile of his.
The man was one giant flirt; I should have known from the moment I met him, at the event where “the incident” occurred. He was a flirt then, and perused my body too much, like he was doing now, blatantly staring at my chest.
“Seriously, can’t you at leasttryto be subtle while attempting to see through my shirt with the x-ray vision you don’t have?”
“How do you know I don’t have it? How do you know I can’t see your pink little nipples right now?”
Covering my chest and opening my mouth in shock, I turned away from him.
A bellow of a laugh escaped his mouth as he threw his head back and slapped the table.
“Kace was right, you’re a pistol.”
“Ugh, that explains it. You’re friends with Kace.”
“That explains what?” he asked while draining the rest of his coffee, intrigued by my statement.
