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I shook my head in awe. “Does everyone in your life just listen to your commands? Because—”
“We’ll talk when you get back.” He took out his phone and hit the screen, completely tuning me out.
That man.
He was unlike anyone I’d ever met.
Authoritative. Irritable. Yet charming in the weirdest way.
To the point where I found myself walking to the bar to run his card, perplexed at how obedient I was when it came to his demands.
Two hundred was an astronomical tip. I’d thought so last time, which was why I hadn’t listened and had given myself nothing.
But it was more than just an outrageous number; it was an amount that had made me feel bought, as though that were a fair price to pay for me to go home with him.
Even now, knowing how much of an asshole he was, I felt uncomfortable as I looked at the tip line, the computer waiting for a total.
The difference between then and this evening was that I wasn’t going home with him.
Period.
That was what made it a little easier to type in the four hundred. That I knew he didn’t need it.
That I did.
I printed out his receipt, and while I was walking back to his table, it hit me. He’d never answered my question as to why Laura wanted to meet with me.
So, once the table was within reach, I placed the paper and pen in front of him and said, “I’m going to ask you again, Why does Laura want to—”
“Are you done for the night?” He signed his name across the bottom of the slip and dropped the pen.
I released a burst of air that was a mix between a laugh and a gasp. “No.”
He glanced over my shoulder. “There’s no one else here. I must be your last table.”
“I’m closing.” I crossed my arms. “That means I have a bunch of duties I need to get done before I leave.”
He returned his card to his wallet. “Do you have a second to walk me out?”
“Walk you out?”
He slid his legs toward me, spreading them, so that even though I was a few paces away, it made me feel like I was standing between his thighs. “Yes, Jovana. Walk me out. That doesn’t mean come home with me. It just means I’m asking you to come with me to the door. Can you do that?”
He made everything sound like a sexy argument, even a simple trip to the exit.
And a submissive side of me that I had no idea existed replied, “Yes.”
He took the pen and receipt off the table and tucked them into my apron. The scrape of his fingers against my waist should have triggered nothing.
But it triggered everything.
A seductive explosion vibrated through me.
As it did, he laughed. “You don’t mask your feelings well, do you?”
I couldn’t when it came to him.
This was what he brought out in me.
