“Come with me.”
He steers me away from the table, through a door marked STAFF ONLY, down a corridor that smells like industrial cleaner.
We stop at a storage room, and when he opens the door there are metal shelves stacked with boxes. A mop bucket in the corner. The muffled roar of the casino seeps through the thin walls.
This is nothing like Tony’s office. No leather. No skyline. No expensive whiskey on a bar cart.
This is utilitarian. A place where things get handled.
Adrian closes the door behind us. His tone is calm. “Do you want to settle your debt?”
I’m so turned on I can barely breathe. Fuck yes, I want to settle it.
My heart slams against my ribs. “I have money. I can pay.”
“Is that really what you want?” He moves toward me, and I step backward until my shoulders hit the wall.
“Tony and I have an arrangement—“
“Tony’s not here.” Adrian stops inches from me. His eyes give me nothing. “I am.”
“I want it.” Heat floods through me and every inch of me waits for contact.
This. Yes. This is what I hoped for. Maybe not in a storage closet, but sometimes the universe gives you what you need, not what you expect.
“You’re still dripping.” It’s not a question. “Did Tony fuck you that good, or are you that hungry?”
“Both.” The word slips out before I can stop it.
His jaw loosens. Like I’ve passed a test I didn’t know I was taking.
“Turn around.”
I do.
He yanks my dress up over my ass. “Hands on the wall. Don’t move them.”
I flatten my palms against cold concrete as I hear the zipper of his slacks. Oh god, I’m really going to get fucked again. It’s good Robert said I could do whatever I want.
“You didn’t leave.” His voice rumbles behind me. “Tony said I’d find you gambling. Said you were the type.”
“What type?”
“The type who needs to be treated like a slut. Your husband probably can’t fuck you hard enough.”
He’s wrong. Robert can fuck me hard, but he can’t make me feel cheap like this does. I keep the thought to myself and moan as he palms my wet panties.
I hear him exhale. Maybe the first crack in his control. Maybe proof I’m not the only one affected by this.
“You’re the type who gets off on being used by men who aren’t her husband.”
“My husband knows—“
“Does he?” Adrian’s fingers push my panties aside. “Does he know you’re in a storage room right now, about to get fucked by a man you just met?”
I don’t answer. Can’t answer because he’s right.
Robert knows about Tony. He doesn’t know about this. He probably doesn’t imagine me pressed against a concrete wall with a stranger’s fingers sliding through my pussy lips.
