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Like how I can tell the footsteps approaching me now are my babygirl’s.
I lower my cigar and turn my head to see her and fuck, damn, fuck does she look like she just stepped out of one of my fantasies.
My latest one is taking her in the fucking exhibition box so everybody can see she’s mine.
The doll is wearing black just as I requested. A black baby doll negligee that hugs her massive breasts and takes my attention straight to the deep valley of her cleavage.
Her hair is down like it was this morning and the gloss on her lips makes me want to lick it off her mouth. I dare not imagine that mouth on my cock.
I put out my cigar and set it down on the ashtray. There’s only one thing I want to come from her mouth tonight and that’s a yes to my offer.
“Still watching?” she asks, slipping off her mask.
I give her an easy smile. “Don’t I always?”
“Yes. I can’t help but wonder sometimes though...” As she walks the material floats around her perfectly sexy hips that sway as she glides closer.
My gaze rakes over her boldly. She’s totally wearing fuck me heels. She stops just in front of me and the top of her head stops at my shoulder.
I lean in and give her the habitual kiss on her cheek, but instead of moving away I linger and take in the sweet perfumed scent of her.
“What do you wonder, Babygirl?” I give her a partial smile.
“They all want you.” Her usually vibrant eyes cloud with suspicion.
“Who does?’ I smile and act like I don’t know what she’s saying, but I do.
“The women here. Especially the fuck toys you hired,” she fills in.
I know this girl, made her, she’s like me. When she has a problem she speaks her mind in riddles, like what she said just now.
“Fuck toys… Babygirl? Don’t know what you mean. I hired you and we aren’t fucking. All we do is sit around like an old boring couple, eating Cheetos and playing poker.” I smirk.
She giggles and it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard.
There’s a lot people don’t know about me. I have a temper on me that could go off at any time. She, however, calms me. She calms me down and I don’t even know if she knows.
I slip my arm around her waist and take her hand as the music changes to something subtle. It’s barely audible up here, but it’s loud enough for me to dance with my girl.
Her cheeks flush when I pull her close. I just look at her, gazing deep into her eyes so she knows the rules change tonight.
I’m glad when she presses her dainty hands to my chest and sways with me.
I lean close to her ear, inhaling the gorgeous scent of her I want to get lost in but I steady my thoughts so I can continue this riddle-filled conversation we’re half having.
“Why the mention of fuck toys, Babygirl?” I ask. She wouldn’t mention it if there wasn’t something on her mind. I’m also noticing how we’re not talking about the thing I want to talk about the most.What’s her answer?“You know if there’s something you want to ask me you should just ask.”
“I have nothing,” she answers, her voice a mixture of reservation and what sounds to me like angst.
I know her, and she’s the kind of woman you have to fill in the blanks with, when you know what she wants to say but she’s not saying it.
“I haven’t been with anyone in nine months,” I mutter once again close to her ear. She pulls away slightly so she can gaze up into my eyes. “That’s what’s on your mind isn’t it? There’s the answer.” I’m guessing the question from the mention offuck toysis that she wants to know who I’ve been with. If she was anybody else I wouldn’t answer it.
“Why?” She gives me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “You should hear the girls talk in the dressing room. Scheming for one of the last Giordano bachelors. Planning all the ways they can entice you into their beds, planning on who can look the part.Your type.” She runs her fingers over my chest light and smooth. “Then there’s the others who’ve had you. Lucky things.”
“Lucky things, baby?”
“You know the kind. The ones you boys used to always talk about all the time while little Mimi took orders on what you want to dress your dolls in. Heels and lace for Nick, red for Christian, satin for Georgiou, silk for Gabe, yellow for…you… Salvatore.”
