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I like that he cares so much about my wrist and that he knows I need to be doing something other than sitting in his apartment all day and all night. When he walks me back to his apartment after my shift, he’ll stay just long enough that I don’t feel so alone, but not so long that it makes me uncomfortable.
When I’m alone, I have all the time in the world to think about Rylan, Nathan, and… everything else.
At the bar, all I have time to think about is whose drinks are next, and how many tips I can make in three hours. The answer to the latter is surprisingly a lot, which has me thinking Aden is responsible because I’ve never made over a hundred dollars in tips every night.
I likehim. Enough that if it wouldn’t be so dangerous for me to stay, it would be easy to want to.
As if Aden can sense my thoughts, his smile softens enough that I know he likes me too. Maybe as friends, or maybe as something else, but that’s not important.
I still can’t stay. Not after what happened to Simon.
Grady places a squat tumbler of whiskey on Sam’s tray, distracting me and Aden from our stare, and I look away.
“Speaking of bathroom breaks.” I take a step back.
He holds his arm out, eyes narrowed and a smile twitching his lips as he points a finger at his watch. “I’ll give you to the count of sixty. One, two, three, four…”
Choking back a laugh, I glare at him again, but I don’t mean it. “Don’t youdare. I’ll be so tense I won’t be able to go.”
But as I turn and head for the staff bathroom, he raises his voice just enough that I can hear he’s not only still counting, but now he’s counting faster.
As I thread my way through the mostly empty tables since it’s just after nine, my gaze goes to the same black couch it always does at least five times a shift. He’s been there every night. And he’s always alone.
Because I couldn’t bring myself to ask Aden about him, I asked Sam.
That’s how I learned it was Kade, one of the hounds.
There have been no more lapdances or Sam giggling as she serves him. Now she just places his drink down and walks away. Since she hasn’t told me why that is, I guess she must’ve done something wrong, or he’s dating someone and lost interest in flirting with waitresses.
Sam says he lives in the newly built glass and steel apartment nearby. In a penthouse. I nearly dropped my tray when she told me that because it sounded like she was talking about Rylan.
Why he tucks himself in the corner of the bar like that, alone, for hours, drinking nothing but whiskey is a mystery I can never work out. But when I feel his eyes on me…
I bump into the edge of a table and curse myself for not looking where I’m going, relieved that with my thick black blouse, no one can tell my nipples are beaded and rubbing against my shirt, or that the thought of him watching me has left me with damp panties every night.
Is he feeling sorry for the girl Aden has taken in and given a job? Is he watching to make sure I don’t steal from them since it’s not like I’ve come into the job with any references—character or otherwise?
Or is his gaze peeling back the layers of my clothes, or lingering on my curves, wanting to touch? To taste.
When I’m in bed with the lights off, I close my eyes and let the dreams… my fantasies play like a movie in my head.
His eyes are on me as I carry a squat glass of whiskey to his shadowed corner before placing it on a black napkin in front of him.
“Sit,” he says. Not… not out loud. But his eyes—his silver stare wills me to.
I round the table and climb into his lap, my thighs straddling his dark pants, and my core pressed flush against a throbbing erection.
His hands shove up my skirt. When his fingers grip the edge of my panties before he tears them off, I only gasp in surprise and cling to his shoulders. I don’t recoil or run. I just wait.
He drags his pants zipper down, and my heart trips just a little faster as liquid pools within me. I let him move me where he wants me because I trust him to know what we both want and need. His hands are hard, unyielding but surprisingly warm as he holds me still before burying his cock deep inside. We both groan. My muscles tighten around him, just on the edge of pain as he fills me to overflowing, but it’s perfect.
We don’t speak, don’t blink, just stare as he thrusts hard into me, over and over, stretching me. He forces my body to swallow every inch of him, filling the yawning emptiness that only he can. When I’m close, my breath ragged, breasts full and aching, my muscles clenching harder around his thick length, he leans closer, still not breaking this eye contact that’s burning me up inside, closes his mouth around one nipple and bites down. Hard.
I walk into the edge of another table hard enough to make me grimace.
As I rub at my hip, my eyes instinctively go to the dark corner where shadows hide the man I can’t get out of my head. I don’t know what I’m expecting to find, but as usual, there’s a bare hint of his arm clutching a glass of whiskey. Nothing else.
Heat sweeps over every inch of me as I look away, shifting my gaze toward the bar, hoping Aden hasn’t realized I’m…
