“Nice. Glad to see your overwhelming love for me isn’t stopping you from whoring around,” I text back.
“You’re one to talk. How is your little mouse? Bored with her already?”
Caught in someone else’s trap. Obviously I’m not going to tell her that. “Where are you?” I ask her.
“At Daddy’s club,” she answers. “Why, you wanna come see if you can give Rachid a run for his money?”
What a ridiculous thing to say. I don’t know who the fuck Rachid is, but he’s no competition for me. I could show up mid-fuck and order Cassandra to crawl her ass across the floor and bow at my feet, and she would.
It’s just that after the orgasms, she would sink her claws into my life and rip everything apart. This woman is a cancer, and I shouldn’t even be talking to her.
I put the phone down and push it across the desk to allay temptation. And I am tempted. Everything feels like it’s spinning out of control, and even if I hate her—maybe especially because I hate her—I’d like to grab Cassandra’s blond locks in my fist and fuck her face until she can’t breathe and tears are streaming down that perfect face of hers.
On second thought, I glance at the phone again. Dodging temptation isn’t really my style, is it? Maybe Cassandra’s mouth around my cock would restore some semblance of sanity to my life. And I am in the mood for a blonde.
This is probably a terrible, self-destructive idea, but what the hell? Laurel’s mouth is taking care of Sin’s cock right now, so it’s not like she gets to gripe about it. Sin will, but fuck him.
I stroll into the club like I own the place. I know the impressive figure I present to any onlookers. Even drunk and without a single member of my crew with me, I exude the kind of confidence only a man with power can pull off.
On the inside I might be a little tangled up right now, but on the outside I’m just fucking fine. I offer an easy smile and wink at a hot brunette whose gaze can’t quite stay on her date. She bites her lip and smiles at me, an invitation in her eyes and she doesn’t even know my name.
I don’t care about her date, but I’m not in the mood for a brunette. I want a blonde tonight.
Cassandra isn’t at the bar, so I head out on the floor to take a look at the tables. It’s a sprawling club, but I know where Cassandra would usually be and she’s not there. I start to feel restless and uneasy. This isn’t how this is supposed to go. I’m not supposed to be working this hard, not for Cassandra. Dragging her in the back and making her suck me off is only fun if it’s effortless. If I have to keep my eyes peeled for her and some other asshole, that stirs memories of when she first left me—not the kind of shit I want haunting me.
“Are you meeting someone?”
I turn around and there’s a cute waitress with auburn hair gazing up at me, unexpectedly upbeat for someone working at such a late hour. I cock my head and she smiles, her blue-green eyes warm and friendly.
“It seemed like you were looking for someone,” she offers.
I turn my head and let my gaze sweep the floor one more time, but I don’t see Cassandra. Little cunt probably sent me on a wild fucking goose chase. Turning my attention back to the waitress, I shake my head. “Nope, just stopped in for a drink.”
With a cheerful smile, she pretends to believe my lie. “Great, let me grab you a table. Or would you rather sit at the bar?”
“Table.” I trail behind her as she moves with great energy toward a booth in the corner. I like booths, but I’ll feel a little like an asshole sitting in one all by myself. My cock stirs like it sees something it likes. I’m caught unawares, as the only thing I’m currently looking at is the ass on this waitress. I didn’t think much of her when I first laid eyes on her, but the way her pants hug her ass, the way her tucked-in shirt nips in at the waist… I kinda want to take her clothes off and see what she looks like underneath. She’s not the blonde I was looking for, but when the light hits her hair, there’s a burnt copper tone that keeps her from being a true brunette. They’re not my usual choice, but hell, a redhead’ll do in a pinch.
Fuck, I’m getting hard over random waitresses now? I really need to end this fucking dry spell. This shit is getting out of hand.
A mishmash of women float through my head and I don’t even know which one I want. Blondes and brunettes. I can’t have any of them, somehow.
“You okay?”
My gaze snaps to the waitress. Her tone is quiet, intimate, like she doesn’t want anyone to overhear. There’s no one else in the corner she put me in anyway, but I still appreciate the consideration. She seems like a nice girl, and dammit, I like nice girls. I’m not sure it would help my situation, but I want to sit this pretty little waitress on my lap and bury my cock inside her. She can straddle me the way Laurel did during Easter weekend when she was afraid someone else might be getting my attention. I liked her honesty, her willingness to walk right over to me and put herself out there. She didn’t want my attention on any other
women when she was right there to occupy me, so I tugged her little ass into my lap and showed her exactly where my attention was. Her blue eyes shone with pleasure; she pulled an Easter egg full of jelly beans out of the pocket of her huge sweater and started feeding them to me. She looked so pretty, her long chocolate waves falling around her, her soft blue sweater accentuating the color of her eyes. I don’t even like jelly beans, but I liked when her nimble little fingers slid them between my lips.
Fuck, that aches to think about. It aches because those blue eyes don’t hold affection for me anymore, and it’s my own damn fault. Laurel should be in my lap, straddling my cock and nuzzling me. Especially if she really is carrying my baby.
She should be, but she’s not.
The waitress takes a seat beside me. I glance back out at the floor, thinking about her neglected tables. She’s not very good at her job. When I look back at her, I realize she looks familiar. “You’re the waitress Sin was a dick to,” I state.
Her lips curve up in a faintly self-detrimental smile. “Yes, but in his defense, he also gave me twenty bucks.”
“Can I be a dick to you if I give you twenty bucks?” I half-joke.
Cocking an eyebrow at me, she asks, “Do you feel like being a dick to me? I only gave you a table and inquired after your well-being. I’m not sure that warrants you being a dick.”