Read Online Licked (L.A. Liaisons Book 1) by Brooke Blaine - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brooke Blaine
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moments later, I looked up and groaned.
“Oh no,” I said when I saw who it was.
Hunter followed my gaze. “Want me to tell her you’re not open yet?”
“No.” Sighing, I made my way around the bar. “It’s my best friend Shayne’s boss. Val. Runs a matchmaking company and is a nightmare like you wouldn’t believe.”
I set about unlocking the door, and then opened it wide, putting a smile on my face. “Val. What brings you by?”
The woman breezed by me, all Chanel No. 5 and a fur wrap, even in the middle of July. She was a tall, broad woman with a permanent red lip, and a husky voice that would’ve kicked Kathleen Turner’s ass in a round of “Who’s got the better sex operator voice?” Though she had to be pushing fifty, there wasn’t a wrinkle to be seen anywhere. A stretched and injected piece of work, this one.
“I heard about the renovations, and I wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any nailing going on during our mixer tomorrow. Well,” she said with a smirk, “no unauthorized , non-paying nailing.”
“Everything’s all set, and the crew is off tomorrow, so no need to worry.”
Val wrinkled her nose and walked over to the tarp. “What the hell do you call this? I need you to get rid of it.”
“And…do what, exactly?” I asked.
Val looked at me as if she couldn’t understand why I wasn’t saying, “Yes, ma’am, anything for you, ma’am.” She blew out a haughty breath, and then her eyes landed on Hunter. They grew bigger when she saw his face before narrowing when she caught sight of what he was wearing.
“You,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Please help Ryleigh understand that this isn’t going to do for my event. Trashy, not classy.”
I almost snorted. As if that woman would know classy if it walked up and whacked her on the nose with a vintage cigarette holder.
Hunter turned on his barstool to face Val, his face impassive. “Maybe we could find a tarp with glitter to put up for the night. How’s that sound?”
“There will be no tarps or glitter, unless one of my clients has a fetish for them, in which case, you can keep them stocked in the back.”
“I’m guessing a beaded curtain is out of the question too?” Hunter asked.
“Unless it’s made out of diamonds then it’s out, smartass.” Val sauntered over to Hunter, her smoky eyeliner-rimmed eyes appraising him again. “Stand up,” she said. “Up, up.”
Hunter pushed off the stool, and the look he gave me was full of is this bitch for real? Yes. Yes, she was.
“Now turn,” Val said, indicating for him to circle around so she could inspect him from all angles. Hunter sighed but did it anyway, probably of the same thought process I was—just get her the hell out already.
“Hmm. On second thought… I’ll be willing to forgive the eyesore in the shop if I can trade it for the eye candy standing in front of me.” Pursing her lips, she nodded, and then looked back at me. “Dress this little beefcake up in something that screams ‘God of a million instantaneous orgasms,’ and make sure he’s here by seven.” She reached past Hunter, grabbed the cherry off the top of his sundae, and popped it into her mouth before giving him one last look. Then she sashayed to the door, which I gladly held open for her, and as she walked by me, she said, “And make sure to stock extra cream.”
“ALL RIGHT, EVERYBODY, I need cocks on one side, pussycats on the other. Chop chop, now, or I’ll make you all play strip Simon Says.” Val stood at the front of Licked the next evening, dressed in an elegant crimson dress that looked out of place with the words spewing out of her mouth as she commanded the room.
The men and women gathered for the mixer HLS—Hook, Line, and Sinker Matchmaking Company—was holding scattered to the far sides of the room like worker bees for Queen Val. And weren’t they the cream of the crop: the men donned suits and ties; the women wore
“Oh no,” I said when I saw who it was.
Hunter followed my gaze. “Want me to tell her you’re not open yet?”
“No.” Sighing, I made my way around the bar. “It’s my best friend Shayne’s boss. Val. Runs a matchmaking company and is a nightmare like you wouldn’t believe.”
I set about unlocking the door, and then opened it wide, putting a smile on my face. “Val. What brings you by?”
The woman breezed by me, all Chanel No. 5 and a fur wrap, even in the middle of July. She was a tall, broad woman with a permanent red lip, and a husky voice that would’ve kicked Kathleen Turner’s ass in a round of “Who’s got the better sex operator voice?” Though she had to be pushing fifty, there wasn’t a wrinkle to be seen anywhere. A stretched and injected piece of work, this one.
“I heard about the renovations, and I wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any nailing going on during our mixer tomorrow. Well,” she said with a smirk, “no unauthorized , non-paying nailing.”
“Everything’s all set, and the crew is off tomorrow, so no need to worry.”
Val wrinkled her nose and walked over to the tarp. “What the hell do you call this? I need you to get rid of it.”
“And…do what, exactly?” I asked.
Val looked at me as if she couldn’t understand why I wasn’t saying, “Yes, ma’am, anything for you, ma’am.” She blew out a haughty breath, and then her eyes landed on Hunter. They grew bigger when she saw his face before narrowing when she caught sight of what he was wearing.
“You,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Please help Ryleigh understand that this isn’t going to do for my event. Trashy, not classy.”
I almost snorted. As if that woman would know classy if it walked up and whacked her on the nose with a vintage cigarette holder.
Hunter turned on his barstool to face Val, his face impassive. “Maybe we could find a tarp with glitter to put up for the night. How’s that sound?”
“There will be no tarps or glitter, unless one of my clients has a fetish for them, in which case, you can keep them stocked in the back.”
“I’m guessing a beaded curtain is out of the question too?” Hunter asked.
“Unless it’s made out of diamonds then it’s out, smartass.” Val sauntered over to Hunter, her smoky eyeliner-rimmed eyes appraising him again. “Stand up,” she said. “Up, up.”
Hunter pushed off the stool, and the look he gave me was full of is this bitch for real? Yes. Yes, she was.
“Now turn,” Val said, indicating for him to circle around so she could inspect him from all angles. Hunter sighed but did it anyway, probably of the same thought process I was—just get her the hell out already.
“Hmm. On second thought… I’ll be willing to forgive the eyesore in the shop if I can trade it for the eye candy standing in front of me.” Pursing her lips, she nodded, and then looked back at me. “Dress this little beefcake up in something that screams ‘God of a million instantaneous orgasms,’ and make sure he’s here by seven.” She reached past Hunter, grabbed the cherry off the top of his sundae, and popped it into her mouth before giving him one last look. Then she sashayed to the door, which I gladly held open for her, and as she walked by me, she said, “And make sure to stock extra cream.”
“ALL RIGHT, EVERYBODY, I need cocks on one side, pussycats on the other. Chop chop, now, or I’ll make you all play strip Simon Says.” Val stood at the front of Licked the next evening, dressed in an elegant crimson dress that looked out of place with the words spewing out of her mouth as she commanded the room.
The men and women gathered for the mixer HLS—Hook, Line, and Sinker Matchmaking Company—was holding scattered to the far sides of the room like worker bees for Queen Val. And weren’t they the cream of the crop: the men donned suits and ties; the women wore
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