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I finish my drink in one gulp and push the change from the fifty toward the bartender.
I hop off the stool gracefully and cross into the row toward her table. Her eyes widen as she’s coughing, looking at her phone, her mouth moving.
Slowly, measurably, I swagger past her table, not looking at her. At the end of the row, I stop and glance back.
Jillian climbs out from the booth, and when our eyes lock, I motion her toward the exit.
I get outside and push her against the brick wall, far from the lights so we’re shadowed. My mouth lands on hers, and I lay a heart attack of a kiss on her. Surprisingly, she kisses me back with a voracity I wasn’t expecting.
“No one touches you. You’re mine.” I keep kissing her.
Her greedy mouth gives back one hell of a kiss. “Uh huh. Uh huh.”
“Do you need me to remind you, right here right now who you belong to?” I reach for my belt.
“Not here.” She backs away, smoothing her skirt.
She’s a prosecutor and has a reputation. I respect the hell out of her for that.
I remember she loves the strip. Walks it often at night.
With hands in my pockets, I head that way. “Follow me, sparkles.”
“To… To your villa?” The want in her voice rearranges my soul.
“No,” I struggle to speak. “I’m showing you another kind of good time first.”
The wide sidewalk gives me room to stroll freely and a few seconds later, I glance back.
Jillian is following me.
A sign for a piano bar catches my eye, and I hook left to duck inside.
The smell of smoke jars me, suggesting this place is old-school. But the man tickling the ivories sounds top-tier and everyone is well dressed like me.
The hostess seats me, and when Jillian slips in, I stand up and signal for her to join me.
Those damn tight pencil skirts hug her shapely arse and nip at her tiny waist, making her boobs look even bigger. She’s a bombshell, a pin-up girl, a curvy goddess.
Mine.
Tugging her purse against her shoulder she says, “That wasn’t a date. I told you it was a colleague.”
“Sit.” I kick out the chair with my foot and motion with my eyes.
She stares for a second and exhaling, she takes a seat.
“What were you drinking back there?” I pull out the wine menu, which is as thick as a best-seller. “I’ll buy you the same drink to make up for the one you didn’t finish at the restaurant.”
“Sauvignon Blanc.”
I find the whites, and scan the list for the most expensive SB.
A server comes up to the table. “Can I get you anything?”
“A bottle of Mondavi Sauvignon Blanc.” I glance at Jillian with her arms folded. “Are you hungry?”
“I was waiting for dinner.”
