Hearing his masculine voice and watching his corded muscles ripple as he moves to sit across from me in my booth brings back that initial desire, full fucking force. My pussy heats and I clench my thighs. Holy hell. His muscles are rock fucking hard, and there isn't an ounce of fat on his body. His dark eyes pierce into me. I break away from his gaze and curse my hormones for making me so horny. Not fucking fair. I feel a deep urge to just fuck my frustrations away.
I don’t need sex. I’ve never had it, never done the dirty deed, but no one needs sex. I bite my lip and feel my shoulders turn inward as doubt creeps in. How the hell would I know if it would help? I’ve never had the courage to go through with it.
I can’t believe he’s sitting with me, but at the same time, I don’t want to be hit on. I’m sure he’s just trying to get lucky. I don’t have time for this. I have to catch up on my studying so I don't fall behind even more. But I find my eyes drifting down his body the way I imagine his would trail down mine. His white tee shirt is pulled taut over his muscles. My eyes dart to meet his as I belatedly realize that I’m blatantly staring. A blush blazes in my cheeks, and my stomach drops.
I nervously tuck my hair back behind my ears and lick my lips. I drop my eyes, and focus steadily on the white tablecloth for a moment. I clear my throat and gather the courage to look Mr. Hunk in the eyes. “I have to study.” I’m surprised I had the courage to say anything at all, and that my voice was mostly steady. I wish I weren’t so dismissive though. It came out a bit shorter than I would have liked. I don’t want him to think I’m some bitch. It’s not that. I’m just awkward, and I really do need to study.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Elle,” I respond quickly, and try to keep my voice steady. But it yelps slightly because of my nerves. Fuck! I sound like a damn squeaky mouse. I am a grown woman, damn it! I clear my throat again and wish my drink were here. My hair cascades down from behind my ears, and I nervously reach up to tuck it back into place and take a breath.
This is a bad idea. I'm not stupid; I need to stop this shit. He's trouble with a capital T, and I’m not in any position to handle him.
"I’m Vince. What are you studying, sweetheart?"
Vince. I like that name. It suits him well.
I consider answering him, but he just wants into my pants. And I need to study. I know this, yet I can’t help getting so wound up and hot for him. All fucking week I've been miserable. Hating my life. Hating how I let my mother pressure me into giving up everything I had going for me so I can be her rock. Just like she always fucking does. I haven't done one thing for myself in so long. Not one reckless thing ever that I can think of. Nothing I wanted to do purely out of desire.
Would it be so bad? Would it really be so wrong to just flirt a bit? Flirting. My lips press into a line. I don’t even know how to flirt. So yeah, it would be a bad idea.
Vince
I’m so fucking bored. I haven’t done a damn thing all day. I sit back in my seat at the bistro and stretch my legs. I love sitting here at the booth – at my booth – just relaxing. But only when I’ve earned it. Today, I haven’t earned a damn thing. I may need to run by the shipping docks to make sure everything is set up to run smoothly, but other than that, my to-do list is short. I pull out my iPhone from my jeans and sigh. I can at least check the stocks.
Joe leans over to look at my phone and laughs. “Thought you were checking out those nude pics again, not that stupid shit.” I smirk at him, not bothering to give a verbal response, and get back to my portfolio.
First off, Leah’s pictures are no longer on my phone. And they never should’ve been there. Fucking nosy prick saw them the second they came through. I deleted them without even looking, but he hasn’t forgotten.
She knew it was only for one night. Desperation doesn’t look good on anyone, and I’m not the kind of guy who commits. I frown, thinking about how she should have more respect for herself. I told her I didn’t want a relationship. It was a quick, dirty fuck and that’s it. It was months ago. Thank fuck she finally let it go and moved on to someone else.
Secondly, my portfolio isn’t stupid shit. It’s a moneymaker. A real fucking good moneymaker that rivals what I get from the familia. But Joe’s not gonna get that. Most of these guys will never understand. They don’t want any responsibility, or have any ambition. They want easy work where they don’t have to learn a damn thing, just listen to orders. And that’s why I’m the underboss, and not any of them. If you’re not hungry for success, you’ll never get it.
A grin grows across my face as I watch the door open and see a beautiful blonde walk in like she belongs here. This is a small town, but she's not someone I've seen around town before. I let my eyes drift down her body in absolute appreciation. She’s wearing a thin, cream colored camisole and tight jean shorts. There’s a sweet innocence radiating from her. Her waist is narrow, but her hips are wide. She's got one hell of a cute little pear-shaped body. It’s a body that could take a punishing fuck. My dick hardens just thinking about gripping onto those hips.
I readjust my cock and take a look around the room. The other guys notice, but they don’t show it. It’s only us and the sweet little blonde here now. Technically this restaurant is a public place. People come here to get an inside look, but it's not like we’d actually do some shit here. We hardly even use the freezer room anymore. Hardly. There’s some shit going on in the back room right now, and that’s why I’m forced to sit here and make sure it doesn’t get out of hand. It's not as if my cousins can’t handle the job on their own. I know they can. But I have to wait here till they’re done.
She smiles looking around the room, and her eyes light up as she quickly strides to take a seat across from me. It prompts a small chuckle from me. She obviously takes delight in the little things. I like that.
The people in this town don’t come in that often anymore. They know my Pops is Don. Everyone knows it, but no one can prove it. I look to my left and see Joe smile as he watches the sweet little blonde scoot into the booth across from us. Joe can back the fuck off, that pussy is mine.
I grin at her being so damn cute and shy. She obviously has no idea that she’s walked into the mafia headquarters. A low, deep chuckle vibrates my chest as she blushes and covers her face. Sweet. She’s a definite sweetheart; I like it. Sweetheart.
She’s looking around like a waitress is gonna come and give her a menu. I look over to Brant. He knows the drill. He should be getting his ass up and playing the part. It takes a minute for him to put down his phone and walk over to her with a forced smile. Little shit. He’s only 17 and doesn’t do much for the family, for obvious reasons. He should be thrilled to wait on a woman like that. Maybe the prick's hormones haven’t hit him yet.
I give her a minute to get adjusted. I nearly laugh when I see her disappointed expression viewing the laptop screen and then watch her eyes search the room. She’s upset about the Wi-Fi. How freaking cute. I can practically hear her every thought. She’s so easy to read. So expressive. I bet she’d be that way in bed, too.
At that thought, I stand up and walk over to her. No time like the present. I know I’m going to be interrupting, but I don’t wait. I’m an impatient prick. When I want something, I go for it. And I sure as fuck want her.