“Um… okay,” she says, getting off Probe’s lap with his help. He pats her ass and flashes me a shit-eating grin when he sees me scowling at him. Fucking bastard.
I grab her hand and lead her out back. There are a couple of brothers out here drinking, but otherwise, it’s pretty quiet. I sit on one of the benches, and when she goes to sit beside me, I tug her down until she’s straddling my lap.
“Did you really need a word, or were you just trying to get me alone so you could have your wicked way with me?”
“Babe, I’m always trying to have my wicked way with you.”
She grins, her eyes moving over my face like she’s trying to figure out my angle.
“Okay, so I know you do most of the cooking here?—”
“Did someone complain?” she asks, looking worried.
“What? No. And fuck anyone who does. The only thing better than your cooking is the taste of your pussy.”
She rolls her eyes, but I see that grin poking through.
“Like I was saying, I know you do most of the cooking, but how’d you feel about taking on another job?”
She cocks her head. “It depends. What’s the job?”
“I want you to come work with me.”
“You want me to work at the pawnshop?”
I nod and watch her as she bites her lip, resisting the urge to lean in and bite it myself.
“Why?”
“Blade needs the prospect, and I trust you. You’ve already helped out a few times, so I know you’ve got a handle on how shit works. Plus, you’re a quick learner and good with people.”
She looks away for a minute, and I can see her thinking it over. I wasn’t expecting her to jump for joy—the job’s hardly glamorous—but I didn’t expect I’d have to sell it, either. I grab her hips and pull her closer, letting my hard cock rub against her.
“Is this so you can get your dick wet on your lunch break?” she jokes. Or at least I think it’s a joke, but there’s a serious look in her eyes.
“If I told you I never plan to fuck you at the shop, I’d be lying. But that’s not why I’m asking. I do need the help, and you’re my first choice. My only choice. You know how much I hate people.”
She chuckles at that. I wouldn’t say I’m antisocial. I’m just anti-people unless they’re part of the club.
“I’ll pay you, of course.”
Her face lights up at that. I’ve got no clue what club girls actually make, but I know they get their room and board for free and an allowance for essential shit. I should’ve realized that money was the angle to push.
“You’ll pay me? Like a real wage?”
I grin. She sounds so innocent right now—so unlike the club girl she is.
“Yes, Legs. I’ll pay you a real wage. I’ll also get you to work and give you a ride back, and if something comes up, I’ll get a prospect to drive you home.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
She squeals, throwing her hands in the air, catching the other guys’ attention. They laugh at her excitement before going back to whatever they were doing.
“So, that’s a yes then?”
“Yes. It’s a yes,” she says, bouncing with excitement before slamming her mouth down on mine. We both freeze for a second. Kissing has been one of the things I’ve made sure not to do since that day at the tattoo parlor because it blurs the lines. But fuck me, the feel of her lips on mine makes me want to break every single one of my rules.
