Poison Me Sweetly (Long Beach Series Book 1) Read online

  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!

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  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.”

  “If you'd left me there all night, you'd have a knife to it right now.”

  “I figured as much. You really need to find that key.”

  “Right,” I mutter as I turn my attention back to the carpet, then I wiggle under the bed again and search for the key. “Didn't you see where I put it last night?”

  “No. I was a bit distracted.”

  “I'm not seeing it down here.” I pull myself back out and look around the floor below night stand, then along the side of the bed he's lying on.

  “Did you drop it on the bed?”

  I rise to my feet and look at him expectantly. “Roll over.”

  His blue eyes focus on mine, and he gives me a wide smile. “Your wish is my command.” He swings his body over so that he's on his side, his back to me. Instead of searching the sheets for the key, I find myself admiring his tight, tanned ass. No tan lines. “You can get re-acquainted with my body all you want after you unlock the cuffs and I use your bathroom. Hurry up.”

  The urgency in his tone has me taking pity on him. I quickly search the sheets before I move around the bed to search the rest of it. When I finish, he flips back to his prior position. I don't see the damn key. With my hands planted on my hips, I stand before him, eyes narrowing. “You did see me take the key from the drawer, didn't you?”

  He stiffens up on the bed, his eyes locking on mine. “I wasn't with you when you grabbed the cuffs.”

  My mouth falls open. “You dared a tanked woman to steal handcuffs, and you didn't bother to go with to make sure she grabbed the fucking key?!”

  “Shit,” he says under his breath. “You weren't acting drunk, remember?”

 
It sinks in. The key is still in Ace's kink drawer. Knowing Ace like I do, he has a woman in his bed right now. “I'm going to have to buy a new mattress.”

  His eyebrows shoot up, and he gives me a warning look. “Do not make me piss this bed. I haven't pissed a bed since I was four. Go get the key.”

  “There is no way in hell I am making Ace aware of the fact that I stole those handcuffs. I will never live it down. I'd rather buy a new mattress,” I say flatly as I fold my arms over my chest stubbornly.

  “Don't tell him. Just go over and sneak it out from wherever you got the cuffs from. I know you're close with Ace and Jeremy. They talk about you all the time.”

  “They do?” I ask, taken aback by this news.

  “Yes. Zoey, get the key. Please.” His pleading gaze holds mine. If he pisses my bed, he'll never hear the end of it if it ever gets out. That, and pissing a bed when you're in your early twenties would be humiliating. Especially in front of a woman.

  My teeth chew my lower lip as I try to figure out how to go about stealing the key. “The key is in his bedroom. If you've been around Ace enough, you know he's probably busy,” I mutter.

  He grimaces. “Maybe he's done with whoever stayed over.”

  “Ace has got major stamina. He's not content with once or twice. He can go all night when the mood hits,” I say as I rub my temple. This situation is going from bad to worse.

  “Do I have to beg you to get the fucking key? I'm damn close here. Is that what it'll take? Is that what you need, Zoey?” he asks, hostility beginning to make an appearance in his tone.

  Damn it all to hell. I refuse to make a man like him beg. To him that would probably be worse than pissing the bed. “Shut up and let me think,” I grumble as I turn my back on him and run a hand over my face.

  Since I don't seem to have a choice in the matter, I bend down and swipe at the nearest pair of jeans on the floor. I slip them on and quickly button the fly, leaving my feet bare. Without a word to the man on my bed, I stride out of the bedroom. I walk down the short hall before entering the small living room of my apartment. As I yank open my apartment door and step into the hallway, I’m fully aware the next couple of minutes are going to bring me certain humiliation.