Page 30 of Sweet Venom

I’m fully clothed, but I feel stark naked around him.

I swallow hard, my fingers twitching as I grab the glass.

There’s no reason for my throat to feel dry or for my pulse to thud unevenly.

No reason at all.

After I pour his drink, my hands steadier than I feel, I slide it toward him. His fingers brush against mine when he reaches for the glass.

And for a moment, our eyes meet, mine frantic, his intense and unforgiving, like the grim reaper I used to fantasize about.

A spark of something dark and ancient courses through me at the feel of his long, rough fingers, and I jerk mine away, feeling heat creeping up my neck.

His eyes narrow slightly, but I’m already rushing to another customer at the other end of the bar.

Even though I spend the rest of my shift trying to ignore him, I canfeelhim.

His eyes.

His attention.

His sheer presence.

It’s suffocating.

I’m teetering on the edge of a breakdown, trying to think about what the hell he plans to do next.

I’ve been jittery for weeks, and I don’t think I can survive this for long.

Shaking my head, I choose to focus on work.

The tray wobbles in my hand as I move through the crowded back tables, balancing drinks with practiced ease, my mind staying three steps ahead.

That’s when a sharp slap cracks against my ass.

I freeze.

The tray tilts dangerously, liquid sloshing over my fingers.A sharp inhale burns my throat, but I swallow the yelp down, choke on it, and bury it where all the other moments like this go.

This isn’t the first time; it won’t be the last.

The cold, familiar feeling of disgust slithers through me, but I force a tight-lipped smile and step back before he can trap me?—

It happens so fast.

One second, I’m pulling away. The next, a rough shove knocks me backward, and my balance falters as the tray tilts from my grip.

The world lurches.

The crash of breaking glass shatters the air.

Beer spills in sticky ribbons over my hands, soaking into my skin before the sharp scent of alcohol hits me. But that’s not why my breath locks in my throat.

That’s not why the whole bar falls silent for half a beat.

It’shim.

Jude is no longer sitting at the bar.