Now that I have gotten my fix of her, I’m afraid nothing and no one can stop me from feeding my addiction. No one will do but her;it’s always been her.
Fuck, just thinking of this evening with her at the brownstone resurrects a part of myself I almost forgot even existed. I wasn’t made to worship an invisible God in a pretend palace in the sky. I was made to worship her. Every fucking delicious inch of her. Her body is a conquest I will never tire of. The way I made her surrender her inhibitions only feeds my desire for her.
She’s worth any trouble that may head my way. Now with this box missing, and the likely possibility of an intruder or thief at the brownstone, it looks like trouble has come for me, trying to ruin my plans for her and I.
As I exhale the smoke from my cigarette, I spy an unexpected guest heading my way. Dressed in an all-black, fitted pants suit, Vanessa practically storms through the velvet entryway curtains. Her eyes are a metaphorical gun aimed right at me.Joy.
I motion over to José, who is solo behind the bar, to bring me a drink.
“What can I get you, Boss, the usual?”
“Please.” I say to him as I take a long drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs once more, preparing myself for whatever Vanessa needs to speak to me about.
She stops right in front of the table I am sitting at, widening her stance with both hands on her hips. She is trying so hard to stay composed, but the anger coursing through her petite frame is speaking loud and clear. Beautiful and angry, a lethal combination in a woman.
“Ah, Vanessa, right? How can I help you this evening?” I ask, taking a quick drag, blowing it where she stands.
She wafts the smoke away. “Didn’t anyone tell you how bad those things are for you? Not to mention, illegal to smoke indoors … as I mentioned to you last night.” She rolls her eyes.
“Unfortunately, the worse things are for me, the more I am inclined to partake in them,” I confess. “Please, do sit.” I motion for her to join me even though I know whatever she is here for is likely not good. However, I must play my cards right and if playing nice with Sienna’s cop friend is what it takes, then so fucking be it.
She hesitates before finally taking a seat across from me. She sits strategically, moving the jacket of her suit back so her Glock is front and center.
“Anyway,” she says, flustered. But as she is about to begin whatever spiel she has for me; I catch Jose’s attention once more.
“Yea, Boss,” he says, slinging a rag over his shoulder
“Make that two whiskeys, one for my friend here, along with mine.”
“I will have nothing, thanks, that’s not why I came here,” she says, trying to refocus.
“If you didn’t come to a bar—my bar—to drink, what did you come here for?” I press her.
“Listen, Mr. Moretti, I’m going to cut right to the chase. What do you want with Sienna?” she asks bluntly.
“I don’t know what you are talking about. I hired her to work for me, that’s all.”
“Let’s call a spade a spade here. You didn’t just hire her, you sought her out. There is a difference. Now, I want to know why that is.”
I lean back in my chair. “Is there now? I mean, technically, don’t all employers seek employees?”
“Don’t play games with me, Carmine, if that’s even who you really are.” She squints her eyes in suspicion, studying me for a moment.
“You look a bit flustered, are you sure you don’t want that drink?”
“Listen, your charming bad boy act may work on most of the girls in here, but it isn’t going to work on me, and it certainly isn’t going to work on Sienna.” She sneers.
Seemed to work just fine on her a few hours ago.
My cock hardens momentarily at the thought of Sienna’s moans replaying in my mind. Nothing brings me more pleasure than pleasing her.
“Sienna has been through enough in her life, she doesn’t need you to involve her in whatever messy shit you have got yourself caught up in,” she warns.
“Oh, darling, no one knows the pain Sienna has gone through in her life more than I do. She is everything I plan on saving, including myself,” I blurt, feeling anger suddenly take over.
“She warned me you talk in riddles.”
“She talks about me, huh?” I try to bring the intensity down in my voice, instead opting for my usual sarcastic, condescending tone.
