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Being polite, I gently accept her hand and introduce myself, “I’m Lorenzo, V’s brother.”
Her hand lingers on my chest as she reaches for my glass of bourbon.
“No,” I pull the glass from her reach, “I don’t share. And you don’t want to play with me little girl.”
Sensually inching her fingers up my chest to the collar of my jacket she stares into my eyes. With the fire burning behind her eyes, it is more than apparent what she wants.
“I am not a little girl,” she whispers as she pulls on the lapel of my jacket.
I dip my thumb into my glass of bourbon before gently dragging it along her lower lip. She takes a deep breath and parts her lips, allowing me to slide my thumb into her mouth. She takes it willingly and sensually sucks the bourbon from my thumb, never breaking her lusty gaze at me.
Looking down at her, my thumb still in her mouth, I grip her chin. Her eyes narrow and I can smell her excitement. My grip tightens, forcing her mouth open. She opens wider trying to decrease the pressure of my grip. In return, I squeeze harder and demandingly pull her face towards mine. The fire in her eyes slowly being replaced with fear.
“You might not be a little girl,” my voice a deep whisper, as I continue my strong hold, never breaking eye contact with her. She does not know what she is asking for, and needs to know that my pleasure also comes with pain, “but you are not ready to play with the big boys.”
Tears begin pooling in her eyes as a little spittle begins to roll down her chin.
She definitely cannot handle what I need from her. What I would demand from her.
Releasing her, she stumbles back from me as I turn towards V.
“It’s late,” my voice flat as I take the last sip of my drink, “get one of the guys to take your friends home.”
Placing my glass on the bar, I head towards the stairs to go to bed. I do not worry about V following my directions, and at this point I know her friends are both ready to leave.
ChapterFour
Avalie
The blaring alarm clock coming from my phone rouses me from my sleep.
“Ugh! It’s too fucking early,” I groan to myself, rubbing the sleep from my eyes while slowly climbing out of the bed.
Throwing off the shirt I slept in, I grab a bra from the floor before throwing on a tight v-neck, short jean shorts and a pair of sneakers.
My hair is still holding the curls from last night, so I pull it into a loose high ponytail. Grabbing a few different brushes, I put on a little makeup.
It really is true. Last night’s winged-liner can be today’s smoky eye.
Taking one last look in the mirror, I grab my zip-up hoodie and keys. Walking down the stairs, I glance at my phone and see I only have about ten minutes to get the store open. Frank will have my ass if he finds out I was late. I pick up my speed, traversing the stairs two at a time and walk briskly around the block.
Rounding the corner, I see the store – Taylor’s Produce. I have grown up here and the people of this neighborhood are like family. Everyone is always stopping in to chat and grab a thing or two. Truth be told, if it weren’t for Frank, I actually would enjoy working here.
Bending down, I unlock the roll-up gate. Using my momentum of standing back up, I lift the gate hoping it catches and stays open. Catching it as it begins to roll back down, I squat a little and thrust my arms over my head for my second attempt. It still does not latch.
What I would give to be tall, or just taller, one day in my life. To just once be able to reach the top shelf on my own!
Reaching up, I brace to absorb the impact of the falling gate again. This time it stops before it gets to me.
It is only when I catch the scent of cologne that I realize someone is standing immediately behind me. Spinning around, I startle when my face hits his chest. With one large hand, he is effortlessly pushing the gate into the box over the door.
“I had it,” I huff at him, bending back down to pick my things up from the sidewalk.
“That was obvious,” the voice is deep and smooth.
Grabbing my keys and phone, I notice the smooth voice is wearing some very nice shoes – too nice for this neighborhood. My eyes scroll up his body as I slowly stand back up.
The grey herringbone trousers he is wearing are immaculately pressed and made for his massive body. My gaze continues to move up him, and even through the pants it is impossible not to recognize the massive muscular tree trunks this man has for thighs. When my eyes travel further up him, I swallow.
