I want to pull her in here, boost her up against the door, and fuck her until she can’t remember anyone before me.
But not yet.
I listen as Rita outlines the salary and benefits for my girl, and judging by the quick intake of breath and the lift of her hand to her chest, Lulu’s shocked.
That’s nothing, firefly.You’ll never want for anything ever again.
It doesn’t take long for Rita to finish everything. Lulu moves on to the locker room, and I’m distracted by work.
Determined to look in her gorgeous green eyes before I have to go take care of business in LA, I leave my office.
Ten
LULU
“You’re doing great,” Max says with a wink as he stands next to me to pour a beer. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.” And it’s the truth. Today isso much betterthan yesterday. I bought a few outfits to wear to work and had a real meal of spaghetti and meatballs. I’m planning to switch to a nicer motel now that I know how much money I’ll make.
I’ve never had to worry about money in my life, but even I know that a six-figure salary is pretty damn good, and that doesn’t even include tips.
“If you need anything, I’m right here. Rita’s coming on in an hour, too.”
“Are we the only three bartenders on staff?” I ask him.
“No, we have Brandy as well, but she only works two nights a week because she’s a single mom. You’ll meet her Sunday night.”
I nod, then deliver the Guinness I just poured to a member before I make my way to the next customer.
“A filthy martini,” the redhead says. She’s in a slip dress that looks made of diamonds, and I have to say, it’s freaking gorgeous. “With extra olives, please.”
“You got it.”
“The dirtier, the better,” she adds.
“Is there any other way?” I ask, earning a grin.
“I like you,” she decides, and with my confidence buoyed, I turn to make her drink.
I’ve been here for a couple of hours, and so far, there has been no sign of Rome. Maybe he’s not coming in tonight. Or perhaps he arrives later in the evening. It hadn’t even occurred to me that he never left the bar to go into the playroom last night.
But he’s a member of this sex club, and that means he probably usually goes into the playroom and the private rooms to have sex. Right? For all I know, he could be married, but he comes here to get his rocks off.
And I’m not judging. Maybe the wife knows. Perhaps they have an open relationship, and this works for them.
After sliding over the martini, movement at the end of the bar catches my eye. It’s not Rome, but it’s a handsome man.
He also has a ton of tattoos and dark hair that’s cut super short to the scalp. He’s dressed in a white button-down with the top two buttons unfastened. No tie. No jacket. And the sleeves are rolled almost to the elbows.He’s a giant of a man, with muscles that flex under his inked-up skin. His hands look rough.
And when I look in his face, I almost stumble back because he’s …scary.
This man hurts people.
I’ve seen enough of them through my father’s line of work to recognize them.
But his lips curl up into a half smile as I approach him.
“Hi there,” I say, proud that my voice doesn’t shake. “What can I get for you?”
