King of Sloth (Kings of Sin #4) by Ana Huang

“So much for not getting wasted,” I groused when he handed me an admittedly delicious-looking pale orange drink.

“It’s one drink. You won’t get wasted unless you have the tolerance of a five-year-old.” Xavier’s mouth tilted at the corner. “Salud.”

I kept my eyes on his as I took a small sip. Fuck, that was good. “Did you make this up on the spot?”

I didn’t recognize the taste, and yesterday’s party had cleared out half the bar, leaving only a handful of ingredients for him to work with.

“You make do with what you have.” A roll of his shoulders, followed by a teasing smile. “I’m naming it the Sloane. Bitter at first but with a sweet aftertaste. Just like someone I know.”

“You don’t know how I taste.”

His smile took on a decidedly more wicked slant. “Not yet.”

My body reacted, instantly and viscerally, like he’d flipped the on switch in a long-untouched room.

My breasts tightened as heat flickered between my thighs, turning my body warm and languid. Less-than-innocent images flashed through my mind before I wrestled them into a box and slammed the lid shut.

No. Absolutely not.

I could not be having this reaction to Xavier, of all people. This was what I got for ending my sex-only situationship with Mark. If I’d slept with him before I left, I wouldn’t be so wound up.

“How’s delusion treating you?” I asked, striving for indifference even as I strangled my glass.

“Quite well.” Xavier’s eyes gleamed like he could reach inside me and pick out every filthy, inappropriate thought. He leaned against the wall, seemingly unaware of the havoc he’d just wreaked. “Since we’re still on break, let’s try something else. Truth or dare. You choose.”

“Truth or dare? What are we, twelve?”

“It’s a timeless game.” He arched one brow. “Unless you’re scared.”

Fuck it. Playing the stupid game was better than humiliating myself dancing again. “Truth.”

“If you could be anything other than a publicist, what would you be?”

I blinked. It wasn’t a question I’d expected, nor was it one I’d given much thought to before. “Nothing. I love my job.”

And I did. Despite the frustrations, the breakneck pace, and the clients who made me want to tear my hair out sometimes, I thrived under pressure. There was no downtime for reflection. There were only problems I could solve and solutions I could implement.

People could call me a bitch or an ice queen, but there was one unshakeable, undeniable truth—I was the best at what I did. Hands down. That was why CEOs, celebrities, and socialites paid me the big bucks. They didn’t all like me personally, but they respected me and they needed me.

So you like to be needed.

Xavier’s observation floated to the surface before I brushed it aside. So what? Everyone liked to be needed. Those who said they didn’t were lying.

“Nothing? There’s not a single career you would consider outside PR?” He looked unconvinced. “I call bullshit.”

“Maybe I’d be a surgeon,” I allowed. It was another high-pressure, fast-paced career. I had steady hands and I wasn’t squeamish about blood. Commanding an operating room and saving lives could be exciting.

Xavier’s mouth quirked. “Unsurprising.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I finished my drink. “Your turn. Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

Interesting. I would’ve pegged him as a dare guy.

“Similar question,” I said. “If you had to choose an actual career, what would you choose?” I was genuinely curious. Xavier had never expressed an ambition for any type of job. What made someone like him tick?

He languished in the shadow of the villa, untouched by the moon or terrace lights, but his eyes sparked at my question.

“One I’m good at,” he said. “Like?”

A cloud passed over his expression before his smile reappeared. “Like teaching you how to dance. I think we’ve taken a long enough break.” He pushed off the wall and poured two shots of whiskey. “One more for courage. Salud.”

His hand brushed mine as he handed me my shot, and a tiny jolt zipped down my spine.

The whiskey burned smooth enough to dampen any concerns over my body’s strange reactions tonight. “You didn’t answer my question truthfully,” I said.

Warmth buzzed over my skin and pooled in my veins. I held my liquor pretty well, but the drinks were strong, and I didn’t resist the intoxication as fiercely as I normally did.

It felt good to let my control slip. Just a little bit.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I would choose a career I’d be good at.” A smile still played at the corners of his mouth, but his eyes contained a soft warning. “I even gave you an example.”

“Semantics. You don’t play fair.”

“I never do.” He came around behind me. His hands found my hips, and my breaths slowed beneath the weight of renewed static. “Let’s try this again.”

The music changed to something sultrier, easier to follow. Maybe it was the new rhythm. Maybe it was the alcohol. Or maybe it was my attempt to focus on anything except Xavier that loosened my inhibitions.