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She comes out in shorts and a tank top, my map on full display. My cock is now fully hard and I have to adjust, but it does nothing for the pressure behind my zipper. It presses hard against it, strangling it uncomfortably.
“Where’s the fork?” she asks, looking around at the table.
I lift the one in my hand and spear a piece. “Open,” I demand, trying to get myself under control. Her brow lifts. “Please. I’m hanging on by a thread, trying to be a gentleman and not fuck you like a caveman,” I confess.
Her expression softens. “That isn’t the worst idea in the world.”
I growl a response.
“You okay?” she asks, gently placing a hand on mine. Hers is so soft compared to mine. My hands are hard since I use them for work, and hers are delicate.
“No. My cock is strangling itself.”
She fucking giggles. I want to growl more, but the lightness of her voice has me smirking instead. I sound like a teenage boy. I have it bad. I remember seeing my brother Romeo go through something like this.
I’ve somehow placed Sienna on my throne of obsession and I’m the one kneeling, ready for anything she might give me.I’m a pussy, it’s official.
I feed her a few more pieces of egg while I battle my body to slow my pulse. The silence is comfortable, helping me relax. I take in a breath, inhaling her sweet scent. I remember it was her perfume that first gained my attention.
“What are you smiling about now?” she asks just before I place another fork full into her mouth.
“I like how you smell.”
Both her eyebrows lift and she laughs. I lean back into my chair. Her hair is matted and she looks like she was just fucked. It’s my favorite look on her.
“Now that I’ve eaten, when is it your turn?” she questions, wiggling her brows and slowly stepping away. This woman is going to be the end of me.
She slips the strap off her shoulder, then the other, allowing for her top to drop, revealing her tits. I stand, pushing the chair back before I stalk toward her. She laughs again.
I pick her up like last time and drop her on the bed for another round.
Chapter 19: Sienna
“What’sshesmilingabout?”Shelby asks Tanya. Both are staring at me while I make their orders.
Tanya eyes me and shrugs her shoulders, not caring. With me being these girls’ boss, I can’t say they have warmed up to me. All they see is how fast I’ve risen and the favoritism they believe I get from Dante. What they don’t realize is that Dante didn’t save me like he did each of them. It was Max, and no one knows. Weird how my killer became my savior, and I’m okay with it.
“Sienna,” Jameson is back at my bar. My eyes narrow and he slips an envelope over the counter with no regard for who is watching. I quickly snap it up, placing it in my back pocket while making sure no one has paid attention to the two of us.
“What’s this?” I ask, the paper feeling heavy in my pocket.
“It’s the message I need you to send.”
I scratch at the back of my neck. What would my father’s club do if they found me? “If I do this, I never want to see you again.”
“That makes two of us.”
He walks out and every fiber of my being wants to rip this envelope in half.
“Are you hiring?”
I startle, looking up. A pretty woman stands before me with long, dark hair. She looks sober, and nothing like the girls who end up here.
“Down the street is looking for a receptionist.” I brush her off, but she refuses to have it.
Her shoulders square and she presses her stomach into the counter, keeping eye contact. “I didn’t ask about down the street. I want to work here.” She stares me down, a hard confidence reflected in her eyes and the firm set of her jaw.
“Why do you want to do that?” I ask curiously.
