Her Taste

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Landon Savinski's life is made of two things, work and sex. He doesn't care for his child from a past fling and doesn't even believe in love. But one encounter with L.A's notorious hookup, Harper Klein, changes Landon in a way he could never imagine.

Drama / Romance
Age Rating:


"Is Elise coming?” I ask, my phone pressed against the side of my face.

“No, she’s staying home. She’s got a cold,” my older brother, Carter replies.

“Damn, I guess we could head to the club instead, what do you say?” Carter hesitates, but eventually gives in.

“What the hell, why not? A couple of drinks isn’t gonna do any harm,” he responds. I smirk, I knew he’d cave. Carter’s not one to say no to a beer.

“Ace’s, be there in five.”

“Fine.” I pull my phone away from my face, end the call and pocket it. I stroll out down to the parking garage and open up my car, which just so happens to be a Bugatti. I slide in and gun down the street, right in the direction of the club. Fortunately, Ace’s isn’t far from my office building. I arrive in a few short minutes, and find Carter smirking at the front entrance. I ease my car into a spot and climb out, only to see my brother making his way towards me.

“What took you so long?” he questions. I barely resist the urge to slap him upside the head to wipe that smug smile off his face.

“Fuck off,” I snap. Carter chuckles and slaps me on the shoulder. He knows how pissy I get when he beats me here.

“Beers?” he asks, his eyebrow raised.

“Don’t forget the whiskey,” I respond with a cocked brow. We stride into Ace’s and slide up to the bar. The entire place is crowded and poorly lit. Hordes of people gather at different sections of the club. I take a seat at the bar and bring the bartender’s attention to me. She’s a blonde with a nice ass. Not bad.

“Two beers. You’ll bring a bottle of whiskey to the exclusive section yourself, won’t you sweetheart?” I keep my voice husky. The hot bartender responds by smiling seductively and fixating a steaming gaze on me. She slides our beers over and aims her chest down towards the ground, showing off her tits. Not the best I’ve seen, but they definitely rank high.

“I’ll be up soon, sir,” she replies, her voice a purr. I look her up and down once more before taking my beer, Carter follows, shaking his head. We’re allowed into the VIP area which is sectioned off by thin walls and large windows, though they’re usually covered with heavy blinds. I take a swig of my beer and stand by the open windows that face the rest of the club as Carter leans back against the worn couch.

“My wife would beat the shit out of you if she’d seen that conversation,” Carter says. I roll my eyes and keep looking out at the crowds of people scattered around the club.

“Elise wouldn’t beat my ass, but she’d gladly beat the shit out of you,” I respond before turning to face him, a mocking smirk plastered on my face. He is well aware of the fact that his wife could easily knock the living daylights out of him. That girl does not mess around.

Elise is one firecracker, I swear that woman would cut off Carter’s balls if he pissed her off enough. It’s hard to believe they’ve been married for over a year. It’s even harder to believe that my mother is still pestering me to get married. I mean seriously, that woman will not shut up about ‘finding the one.’ It got even worse when Carter announced his engagement. My mom’s pestering increased by a tenfold, and she hasn’t stopped. It’s brutal when I return to my penthouse and have to hear my mom’s shrill voice drone on and on about how important marriage is.

“Yo, Landon, what’s your answer?” Carter calls out. I snap my attention back to him and our conversation.

“Repeat what you said,” I reply quickly.

“Elise wants Claire to stay over again,” he responds.

“Cl--oh as in Claire, my kid Claire.”

“Yeah, your daughter Claire,” Carter takes a swig of his beer, “don’t tell me you’ve been ignoring her again.”

“Have I ever...not...ignored the kid?” I reply with an exasperated huff.

“You swore you’d at least acknowledge Claire when you see her.”

“But what if I just don’t see her at all? I won’t have to acknowledge her then, right?”

“Stop. Just stop. Get rid of the detached father act, it’s ridiculous.” Carter sighs and tips the bottle of beer into his mouth.

“Oh please, I don’t want her at all. You and mom insisted we keep her. You’ve got no right to tell me how I should act. If I want to recognize Claire’s presence, I will.”

“Bullshit, just because you hated Lauren doesn’t mean you have to hate your kid.”

“Don’t remind me.” The sharp knocking at the door turns our attention away from our argument. The hot bartender stands at the door, her tiny outfit covers little of her body and our requested bottle of whiskey is in her hand. I smirk and exchange looks with Carter, he glares at me in annoyance. I completely ignore him and take three steps towards the door before opening it and allowing the bartender to come in. She eyes me and licks her lips.

“Your whiskey, sir.” she says, her voice is still a purr.

“Hmm,” is all I say in response. I take a step forward and wrap an arm around the bartender’s waist. She doesn’t flinch, instead, she drags a finger down my chest. A purr runs low in her throat. Seriously what the fuck is up with the purring? Is this chick a cat or something?

I pin my gaze into her eyes and lean forward, stopping when I’m just a few inches away from her mouth.

“You can go now,” I murmur into her ear. I swiftly pull back and cross my arms. I look at her and then glance at the door, signalling her to get out. Carter’s expression turns amused, he knows my game far too well.

“I--wait but--” the bartender fumbles to find words. She shoots daggers at me before stamping her foot and screeching at the top of her lungs. I watch her stomp out of the room with a grin. I’m fairly certain 3-year old Claire could throw a tantrum with more class than that girl.

“Way to go Landon,” Carter hollers at me. I don’t bother answering, I know he thought that was funny. I reach for the whiskey, but my phone vibrates in my suit jacket pocket. I groan in exasperation after I check the caller ID.

“Who is it?” Carter questions as he finishes his drink. He kicks his legs up onto the couch and raises an eyebrows at me.

“PA, probably needs to know something about meetings and shit.”

“Answer it later if that’s the case.”

“I’ve got an important meeting with Oslent this week, can’t afford to miss details. I’m gonna take this.” Carter just nods and hauls himself off the couch, his gaze fixated on the bottle of whiskey.

I accept the call and leave the room.

“Kelsey, bad timing,” I shout into my phone. It’s so damn loud in here.

“Oh sorry Mr. Savinski. Mr. Oslent’s arranged for the meeting to be pushed to tomorrow, he refuses to have it any other day,” my assistant, Kelsey, replies carefully.

“Well check my schedule then, don’t call me,” I holler back so she can hear me. Well that and because she deserves to be yelled at. What idiot PA doesn’t check the schedule before annoying their boss?

“I did sir, I would never make such a foolish mistake,” so apparently Kelsey isn’t as dumb I thought,” unfortunately, you’re booked for tomorrow.” I groan and curse under my breath.

“Move Renolds to Thursday, make sure you keep the explanation short. That man wouldn’t be able to stand the horror of being deemed less important.”

“Wait what, I’m sorry Mr. Savinski, I couldn’t hear a thing you said.”

“Move! Renolds! To! Thurs--” a body slams into me, nearly knocking me to the ground. I whip myself around and face the little fucker. I’m met with a burly man with a tiny pig eyes. I notice there’s someone at his side, but I my focus goes to the little shit who just shoved me. All I catch of his companion are long, curled locks of dark hair.

“What are you looking at kid?” he barks.

“You little fuck,” I hiss. My hands curl into fists, and the burly guy notices. He howls with laughter, well, I think he laughed. It sounded somewhere in between a snort and cough.

“I dare you, start some shit. I’ll beat your ass right here,” he hollers at me, amusement dripping from his tone. The asshat sneers at me and gets right up in my face. If looks could kill, this fucker would be dead right now. I feel a great urge to reach for the nearest object and slam it down on this pig. It would most likely crush a few bones, but that’s a small price to pay for being a jackass.

But then I decide to throw my hands up and surrender. I turn on my heel and walk away, the fucker howls and doubles over with laughter. He taunts and curses at me as I force myself to keep stepping forward. My blood boils, I can feel my neck reddening, the veins pop out as rage overtakes my senses. And then something snaps inside of me.

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