"Boss?" I looked up and saw Monroe with a curious smile on her face approaching. "Hey Daddy, what are you doing here? I don't have you on my schedule," she asked stopping in front of me.
Before I could respond, my lady for the night rounded the corner looking gorgeous as fuck in some kinda maroon dress with a split so high I could see the thickness of her hip.
"That's because he's not here for you," she said.
Monroe's head whipped towards her, fire in her eyes.
Gianna smiled softly. "He's here for me."
"Aw shit." I heard the security guard by the door mumble. He straightened up, already on alert.
The hostess stood there, eyes wide, mouth parted open. I could see Monroe's chest rising and falling quickly as her jaw clenched and her fist balled. She looked like she was about to swing. I knew she would get jealous which was why I was hoping not to run into her ass.
Gianna stood there, still smiling but it wasn’t friendly, it was taunting. She was as cool as a cucumber as she turned to me, her voice dropping to a sexy purr. "Hi, Boss. So good to see you again."
Even with Monroe's heated gaze on me, I smiled back widely. "You too, mamas."
Gianna held out her hand, I hesitated for a second 'cause Monroe looked like she was close to crashing out. Then I remembered…she wasn’t my fucking girl. Taking Gianna's soft hand, I pulled her closer to me. She smelled good as hell.
"Boss…" Monroe glared at me. "Are you fucking kidding me?" she muttered under her breath, tone cold enough to freeze us both.
Now look…I was fond of Monroe. You can't fuck with a woman for that long and not feelsomething. A nigga wasn’t trying to be messy, but something about Gianna's thick ass had me interested.
Nonetheless—I wasn’t trying to be a dick or cause a ruckus in Madam's spot. I didn't owe her an explanation, but off the strength of our time together, I was going to give her one. I let Gianna's hand go to talk to her. Turning to Monroe, I ran my thumb down her jawline. "It's nothing personal, Monroe. For real. Relax," I said smoothly.
Her chest trembled slightly under my touch. "It feels personal, Boss." She looked up at me, nostrils flared. "Two years."
"And we've had a good time, haven't we?" I countered.
"Boss—"
"Haven't we, Monroe." I cut her off, staring into her eyes. As expected, she nodded submissively. "Alright then, so relax." I gave her ass a gentle smack. "Go and enjoy your night mama." I turned back to Gianna. "You ready?"
She smiled. "I am." Taking my hand again she looked back at Monroe. "Bye, Monroe," she waved, wiggling her fingers.
I couldn't help the smirk that crossed my lips 'cause Monroe looked like she was half a second from fucking Gianna up. As Gianna led me to our suite she looked back at me, that smile still on her face.
"You enjoyed that shit, didn't you?" I asked.
She laughed lightly. "A lil' bit."
I let her hand go to wrap my arm around her waist. "You liking giving bitches a hard time?"
"Only the ones who deserve it," she replied. She stopped in front of our suite and opened the door. I stepped in and she softly closed it behind me. "Can I get you something to drink?" she pointed to the small wet bar. "Your profile said you like quality bourbon." She turned smoothly, walking across the room to the bar where she picked up a familiar looking bottle and held it up. "As a show of my appreciation for tonight, I figured I would pick you up something special myself."
I grinned as I strolled over, stroking my beard. She held out the bottle towards me. I accepted it, unable to get the wide ass smile off my face. "And you bought this with your own money?" I asked, looking at the bottle then back at her smiling face.
She nodded. "Mmhm."
"You know this a $400 bottle right, mama?"
"I know," she shrugged modestly. "I can't have a man of your caliber drinking anything but the best."
I chuckled 'cause she had a nigga blushing lowkey. I knew she was probably gassing me, but I still appreciated the gesture. Already she was setting herself up to be something different. Iwas flattered, no lie. There was no way she could've known that she picked one of my favorite bourbons but somehow, she did.
"How did you know to get this one?" I asked curiously.
"Well," she sighed. "My daddy loves a good bourbon, and I recall seeing this particular bottle on his shelf for years. He refused to open it."
