Her eyes leveled with mine. “Too bad for you, they already paid and I don’t do refunds.” She grabbed my hand and yanked me up from my chair. She might have been a little thing, but the girl was not weak. Her teeth slid out over her pouty bottom lip. “I don’t bite. Promise.”
I smirked. “What if I wanted you to?”
“Only time will tell.” She winked a green eye at me, and pulled me toward a back room.
About the Author
Marie York is an American writer who works the corporate circuit by day but come nightfall transforms into a steamy writer. She loves the city life and a good cocktail.