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The way I felt in his arms last night in the tub, when we both held each other with our eyes closed.
All very compelling arguments for why I no longer care about Ronan Kade’s age.
Setting his bourbon on my tray, I carry it over to his table. I love the way he’s watching me as I walk. Like I’m the only person in the room. Like he literally came to a sex club just watch me serve drinks all night.
I pass the drink to him with a wicked smirk.
“What’s that look for?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I tease, thinking about Geo’s remark about his dick.
“How are you feeling? Did you get enough to eat before your shift?”
This is how he’s going to be now, isn’t it? Always checking that I’ve eaten enough and not skipping meals anymore.
I lean over him, my hands on either side of his chair as I hold my lips near his ear and whisper, “Yes, Daddy.”
He responds with a groan.
Before I can back away, he hooks a hand around my leg and tugs me closer, putting me between his knees, bringing our faces just inches apart. So much for being discreet.
“I don’t have to wait until the end of your shift,” he says in a cool, sexy warning.
“I would lose my job.”
“Think I care? You keep calling me that and I’ll fuck you right here.”
I smile at him before dropping a couple inches and pressing my lips to his for a quick kiss.
“You can wait, Mr. Kade. Drink your bourbon and behave.”
His jaw clenches as his fingers trail up and down the back of my leg. I hate to walk away now. I’m too addicted to his touch. But I have to. The floor is getting busy with thirsty patrons.
But as I stand up and turn away from Ronan, I catch the eye of someone across the room. Clay, the man whotriedto win a date with me, is standing alone near a high-top table, staring at me with curiosity in his gaze. His eyes track downward toward Ronan then back up to me.
I suddenly feel exposed and uncomfortable as I force myself to look away and head back to the bar. All the while I serve drinks and take orders, I feel them both watching me, but I try to focus solely on Ronan. Every few minutes, I sneak a glance and a smile in his direction, and for the most part, I don’t think he notices Clay’s pointed attention on me.
I can’t avoid him forever, so after serving the table next to his, I stop at Clay’s.
“Hey there,” I say with my customer service voice and smile. “Can I get you something to drink?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he narrows his eyes and bites his bottom lip.
“Hey, Daisy. Haven’t seen you around in a few days,” he says, stepping closer to me.
“I was out of town,” I reply cheerfully.
“Oh nice. Where’d you go?” My smile starts to fade. He must notice because he lets out an anxious laugh. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate to ask. Don’t answer that.”
I laugh in response, trying to keep it as casual as possible. “It’s okay. I, uh…went to Paris, actually.”
His eyes widen. “Oh, wow. Paris? That sounds amazing. Good for you.”
“Thanks,” I reply with a tight-lipped smile. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Sure…” he says, and I sense by the way he’s hesitating and chewing on his lip that he’s working up the nerve to ask me something. “Maybe you’ll have a chance tonight to have one with me?”
When I spot the anxious hope in his eyes, a feeling of sympathy washes over me. I take a moment to appreciate Clay’s sweet nature and handsome face.
