Read Online After Hours: Black Lace Classics by Crystalle Valentino - Free Book Online

at that moment. In fact she felt most unusuallytemperamental, for her. Spitting mad, in fact. It seemed to be the effect he had on her.
    Micky managed to grab a paper plate and get several bite-sized morsels onto it. He eyed them dubiously. ‘A what? Did you say a whore?’ he asked absently, prodding at the food.
    ‘I said a houri ,’ spat Venny. ‘Dracula’s slaves, you know. Who kept his victims drained just to the point where they couldn’t escape.’
    ‘Drained?’ Micky’s attention was suddenly fully on her. ‘In what way drained, exactly?’
    ‘Of blood,’ said Venny.
    ‘Ah. Shame.’ And the laughing challenge in his eyes as they sparred with hers was blatantly obvious. He bit into one of the mini pizzas, chewed and said: ‘Holy shit, they’re trying to poison the lot of us.’
    Venny smirked as she watched him swallow the offending article with a grimace.
    ‘Something of a foodie, are we?’ she goaded. ‘Bit of a gob snob?’
    Micky put the plate down hurriedly. ‘I do know a bit about food,’ he shrugged.
    ‘Like what?’
    Micky told her.
    Several minutes later Venny said: ‘OK, stop.’
    ‘Sorry.’ Micky smiled. ‘I’m a chef.’
    ‘Oh. Right.’ Venny’s green eyes narrowed. Hadn’t she interviewed someone who looked rather like this for the job at the restaurant? The name was certainly familiar, and the looks too. In fact she had fantasisedabout those looks more than once over the past few weeks.
    ‘Excuse me,’ she said finally. ‘Didn’t I interview you for a job?’
    ‘You remembered!’ Micky gave a delighted smile. ‘At last,’ he added, snidely. ‘And you gave it to someone else.’
    Yeah, she thought. Bloody Bill Thompson. But while Bill had been a pain, she looked at this laughing-eyed hunk in front of her and acknowledged that life with this man working for her would make the time spent with Bill seem like a family outing. She had correctly identified him as trouble at the interview, and so far she had seen nothing to make her change her mind. No, she wanted a quiet life.
    But she needed a chef.
    ‘I’m still available, you know,’ Micky said, watching her face instead of her chest, for a change.
    She looked at him, half-opened her mouth to say something irreversibly stupid, recovered herself and managed to say instead: ‘Well, I hope you find something soon. Hey, it’s been nice, but I’d better mingle.’
    And she dashed off into the crowd.
    She managed to avoid him after that, busied herself eating and drinking and dancing. She had to admit she felt slightly slewed, but that was good. It gave her the nerve to carry on with this outrageous costume without resorting to borrowing a bra off Flora – which wouldn’t fit her anyway, she had to admit. During that sexy oldDean Martin marimba track she got locked in a clinch with Jamie but, despite her rivetingly bouncing tits, she felt that his attention was elsewhere – even though his erection was pressing against her belly. Later, she met up with Dani, even managing to prise her away from Caspar for a bit of a chat.
    ‘What do you make of them, our host and hostess?’ Venny asked as Dani sipped seawater-blue absinthe and continued to sway to the hard Latin beat. Her pert little cherry-nippled breasts swayed too, and Venny found her eyes tracking them back and forth. It was like watching Wimbledon, only more fun.
    ‘What do you make of them?’ countered Dani.
    Venny told Dani what Micky had told her. That they were miserable together because they’d got married rather than continue living in flexible sin.
    ‘That’s precisely the impression I got,’ said Dani, jiggling away now that the tempo had quickened. Their hostess passed by, smiling briefly. The grey eyes dipped reflectively to Dani’s front, and then up to Dani’s face. Dani smiled back at Flora. ‘Her tits are enormous,’ Dani hissed to Venny. ‘Every man in the room’s wishing she had them out on display like ours. What was I saying? Yes,