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Did he see me staring?
“Yes, Alessandro?” I ask, making my way over and leaning on the bar top with my elbows.
A tiny smirk crosses his face at the sound of his name. “When you get your table’s drinks, can you run to the back and grab me some more towels?”
“Yes, sir,” I say. He could ask me to run up to the roof and I’d do it for him, and I think he knows that. “Anything else while I’m back there?”
“No, that’s all.”
It must be my giddy nerves of being this close to him when he’s all I’ve thought about since this morning, or it might be stupidity, but a swell of courage has my next words burning up my throat. Glancing to either side and making sure I’m out of earshot, I lower my voice and cock an eyebrow at him.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come show me where they’re at?” I ask, even though I know exactly where the supply closet is. It’s small and dark and just out of sight of the customers sitting in the dining area.
The perfect place to slip away and fool around without raising suspicion.
He fumbles the beer bottle he’s holding and shoots a curious look in my direction, one of his brows arching higher the longer he looks at me. “W-what?”
I giggle and push myself away from the bar. “I’m just kidding.”
Turning on my heel before I can say anything more embarrassing, I take my table’s drink order and hurry toward the back where the storage closet is. Part of me is still reeling, unable to believe I said that to Alessandro, but part of me is excited by his response. He didn’t get mad, and he didn’t usher me away.
In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he liked it.
I guess I’ll have to be a little bolder if I want to get his attention.
I’ll see how many innuendos I can squeeze in before the end of my shift, see if I can fluster him as much as he flusters me without trying.
Is it a good plan? No. It could potentially get me fired if he doesn’t reciprocate my interest.
But when have I ever been afraid of a challenge?
Adjusting my apron and pulling down the front of my shirt a smidge–not that it helps, since I hardly have any boobs–I strut back with his towels in hand and plop them on the counter.
“Here you go.” I shove them in his direction.
“Thank you, Jessa,” he says with a grin, and I can’t deny how much I love the way he says my name. The accent makes it a thousand times hotter.
“Normally, men offer to get the towel for themselves, but I could get used to this too. No problem.” I wink at him, and before he can respond, I bounce back over to my section.
And thus, the evening goes. Whenever I’m close enough to the bar or he walks by to check on something at the front desk, I make flirty comments. I joke, I poke, and I pester him until he’s laughing at my remarks. The sound of his laughter is music to my ears, and he even tosses a few cute comebacks my way.
“You’d better get back to work before I have to chase you off,” he says as he pours a margarita for one of my tables.
“Oh, I bet you like a bit of a chase, don’t you?” I laugh.
I almost swear his ears go red. “Keep it up and you’ll find out.”
By the end of the night, there’s a difference in the air between us. It’s a closer, more intimate air, one that settles comfortingly around us and leaves me wanting more. More conversation, more connection.
I want to make him smile, to hear him laugh at my remarks.
I want more of his attention–all of it–but I’m also trembling with nerves at the thought of what could come next.
Of how badly I want it.
I know it has to be because of my heat approaching that I’m constantly thinking about the things Alessandro could do to me in the bedroom, of how he could take me and claim me as his. Even if it’s just for one night, I want to lose myself to the lust burning through me, to let Alessandro leave his mark on me, but I know that night can’t be tonight.
Not until after my appointment.
