Page 9 of Baby for the Bratva King

People never walk away from me. They hold eye contact until I decide to drop it. I’m the one who leaves them waiting, who makes them question things, not the other way around.

Saskia’s playing me at my own game. Her blushed cheeks told me she felt a certain way about me, but she was downplaying her feelings, being in denial, ignoring me.

It takes courage to do that. Saskia’s a very peculiar girl, and as I hear the front door slam, I realize I’ll never get the chance to figure her out.

Did I scare her away? Was I too rough?

I stick a fist in my mouth, biting down on my knuckle. Overthinking is for people who have too much time on their hands. I’m back from London a day early, but that doesn’t mean I can relax and rub my cock all day, thinking about my sweet maid as she wanders around my house wearing her little skirt.

I’ll find a way to sink my cock into her again. She looked like she enjoyed it, and the shock on her face when I first entered her pussy has me wondering if she’s never had sex before.

Her walls were extremely tight, opening around me like a flower coming into bloom for the first time. She was unsure where to place her legs, how to breathe.

Could she have been a virgin?

I bite back a smile. Maybe my Honeysuckle is in denial about a lot of things, even her own innocence.

I turn off the shower, my fingers pruned from how long I’ve been under the water. I could spend a whole lifetime in this cubicle, throwing my Honeysuckle up against the wall and worshipping her body.

Fuck, those tits.

My cock jumps again. I’ve seen lots of breasts in my day, but hers will always be my favorite. I would give anything to get my mouth around those nipples, swirling my tongue over her small, pink areolas, watching her grind on her hand as I send her right to the edge, but never over.

I only want her coming around my cock.

I’m sure we’ll be fucking again after I track her down and put her back in that white pinafore.

I wrap a towel around my waist, my vision distorted from all the steam. I grab my clothes from the floor and head into my bedroom, seeing the bed freshly made, the old sheets scrunched up into a pile in the corner of the room. Looks like Miss Quinn made a quick escape, not even tossing my sheets in the washer first before leaving.

I slip my watch from my shirt pocket, reading the time. She still has another five hours to go until she’s off-duty. I’ll be a gentleman and still pay her the full amount. She probably needs it.

I sit on the foot of the bed, pulling out my phone.

Gabriel: Answer your fucking phone.

Just what I need after being rejected by a woman—my right-hand-man spamming me with messages.

ME: I was on the flight back from London.

Gabriel: Your flight landed two hours ago. Put your cock in your pants and meet us on Amsterdam Ave. We have business to discuss. You’re lucky I hold up the fort while you gallivant across the Atlantic drinking fucking tea.

ME: It’s not luck. It’s called employment. And I don’t drink tea.

I click off my phone, selecting a dry-cleaned suit from the walk-in closet. This has to be my favorite part of the house, apart from the guest bedroom when Saskia is staying over. That was supposed to be the plan tonight, since she is scheduled to be here for the next two days.

I slide a black tie under my collar, tying the silk. After throwing on a jacket, I brush myself off and look forward to an evening of drinking scotch and discussing business.

I lock up, call for a cab to collect me, and jump straight in when it arrives.

I sit in the back seats adjusting my watch. It should be midnight in England at the moment, but jet lag stopped burdening me years ago. When you do something enough times, your body stops reacting. I can stare into a dead man’s and feel nothing, fuck a woman and never see her again, but…

There’s something memorable about Saskia.

She left without saying goodbye, like I’m nothing but a passing thought in her life.

“Thanks,” I say to the driver, handing him a wad of cash when he pulls up outside of the bar ten minutes later.

I head into the dive bar, ascending several flights of stairs.