Orient Fevre

Excerpt From: Orient Fevre

All I wanted was a quick fuck with no strings attached.

It was a bad idea, even in my half-buzzed condition. I knew I shouldn’t be messing around with him, but I couldn’t help it. He was one of those impossible-to-resist men, especially as he’d been eye-candying me since I’d walked into this bar.

He wasn’t a typical tall, dark stranger, mind you. From across the floor, I saw his eyes were so shockingly blue, they could have melted you into a puddle with one look. I guessed he was somewhere between thirty and thirty-five—an outlander like me. He sat near the tap, nursing a glass of beer as he fixed his gaze on me. His long raven hair, draped over his shoulders like a curtain of black silk, seemed to blend into the darkness of the bar. A black button-up shirt and tight, faded jeans wrapped his well-built body. When he turned around to reach something behind the counter, I noticed he had the most fantastic ass I’d ever seen. I’d bet all my ten fingers he had a magnificent cock, too. He was irresistible, just like a piece of over-priced gourmet chocolate that you drooled on when you’ve starved yourself from dieting.

I chugged down my Bloody Mary and decided to hit on him. The Howling Owl was jam-packed with outlanders and trans-ship crews who had boarded the Ernye suborbital station this weekend. He eyed me as I waded through the crowd. His lips curled into a wicked smile. He was probably amused I was bold enough to approach him.

“Hello. I have a proposition for you. Interested?”

His smile turned into a full-blown leer. “Well, I’ll be damned. You’re a kitty cat.”

“How did you know?”

“I have a thing for cat women. They’re exceptionally hot.”

I grinned. “Back to my proposition.”

“Okay. Shoot.”

“I’ll give you a thousand credits for a quickie.” I nodded to the direction of the coat closet. “In there would be fine. I only need about five minutes to come.”

The smile vanished and his eyes widened, looking incredulous. “You’re propositioning me? Sex for money?”

“That’s exactly what I meant.”

“For a thousand credits?”

“It’s a reasonable price, don’t you think? Most outlanders out here earn less in a week’s wage.”

He looked at me from head to toe, scrutinizing the way I was dressed. I was out of uniform tonight since this was my R and R. I had donned my usual black leather ensemble, slapped on some extra makeup, and let my hair down for this man-hunting occasion. His gaze lingered a bit too long on my deep cleavage, then on my belly and legs. I knew I looked very presentable, but he noticed something off about me.

“You’re drunk.”

Well, I was a light drinker and a Bloody Mary was enough to send me tipsy. “If you’re not interested, say so. I can find another willing cock.”

“I don’t want to take advantage of a drunken woman.”

“But this woman doesn’t mind being taken advantage of.”

His lush eyebrows furrowed.

I took it as he wasn’t interested in my offer. “Nice seeing you.”

He grabbed my arm as I turned around to leave. His grip was a little too firm.

“Change your mind?”

“I think I should take you home. Where do you live?”

I laughed, wrenching off his hand. “I don’t want to go home until I’ve scratched my itch, Mister. Now, let go of me.”

He slid down from the barstool. On his feet, his height towered above mine. He was at least six-feet-eleven, if not taller, a fine stud in his prime. I only came up to his shoulder, and by all means, I wasn’t a pixie either.

“Fine, kitten, I’ll scratch your itch, but you’ll have to do it my way.”

“Define what you mean by ‘my way’?”

“It involves a blindfold, cuffs, and an all-access pass. Backdoor included.”

“Ooh. Kinky are you?”

“Interested?”