He shakes his head tsking. “Can’t play me with one of my old tricks.” Then he takes his aviators off his face and places them on his shirt. “But I’ll let it slide because I want this club business done so I can get back and show Alice how much I missed her.” A deviant smirk crosses his face.
My face twists with mock disgust. “Some things I don’t need to know.”
“Don’t be a prude.”
“I’m not a prude.”
“When was the last time you even had sex?”
None of his fucking business. “You interested in my sex life, Snake?”
“No.”
“Then why are you asking?”
“Because I’m trying to prove a point,” he says matter of fact. “Must be a long time if you don’t want to tell me.”
I ignore him as we walk towards the club. Snake only snickers besides me which causes my jaw to twitch.
The last time I had a girl in my bed I swore to myself I would never let another one in it again. I’ve had other women after Lana. Only a few, four to be exact.
I’ve only had sex with five women in my thirty-four years of existence.
I’m not ashamed of it.
I know some men would look at that number and laugh. But those men aren’t men. Women aren’t supposed to be visualized as sexual objects. They’re bodies are meant to be worshipped. Handled with care and respect.
And despite popular belief I have to have a connection with someone before I makethatconnection.
Do I consider myself a prude? No. I just consider myself a man who craves intimacy with the right partner.
But after the last time I had a woman in my bed I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have the intimacy I crave.
It’s holding someone throughout the night without the nightmares taking control. Waking up and recognizing where I am instead of thinking I’m back overseas. Having someone lay besides me and not wake up thinking they’re a target.
Because the last women who spent the night in my bed woke up never wanting to return to it again.
Never again will I bring a woman to my bed. Not when I don’t have control over my own self.
When we make it inside I take note of the place. The only people here is the manager we hired and a few employees.
The Pit does well in business. It has a grunge feel to it but it meets with modern chic. The bar is a curved set up with a waterfall background and low lights. The bar stools are charcoal leather and the stands are custom made metal vipers. The bar countertop is a thick and glossy black marble with silver flecks. Chandeliers made of black metal hang from the ceiling creating a glow over the tables and the dance floor.
It’s beautiful and it has an appealthat keeps people coming back.
Snake and I nod our heads at the employees as they make their final rounds of cleaning before opening back up.
We walk until we hit the back area that leads to a hallway. The first door on the right hand side is where Daniella, the manager, has her office.
Snake knocks twice and that’s when we hear the natural husky voice of Daniella telling us to come in.
I follow in behind him and close the door.
Daniella is a beautiful woman. There’s no denying that. Long and thick dark brown hair that stops more than halfway down her back. Dark brown eyes that are both warm and alluring. High cheekbones and a jawline models envy along with her near six foot height.
Her parents immigrated from Italy before giving birth to her and her two siblings. She’s the only female and youngest of the family. Despite her young age she has the maturity and intelligence of a person who has lived a long time. It’s why I wanted her as a manager here. She knows how to run a business. It wouldn’t surprise me if one day she started a business of her own.
She’s also a dear friend to Nora.
