“Excuse us, Fawn has an entire room of people to meet, and I am out of whiskey.” I slide my hand around her hip, turning her towards me.
“Nice to meet you.” She glances over her shoulder, then faces forwards, allowing me to direct her away from the gathering. “That went really well, Sir. I think he likes me.”
I deadpan. “Yes.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Territorial.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
fawn
Everything is going perfectly.
Aurora is here! Her elegant posture and confident smile make me stand a little straighter. She is also a strong female role model for me. Maybe not quite a mother figure, but certainly an inspiration, someone to look up to.
And—Alceu likes me,andI haven’t tripped or said anything too silly or immature.
Things are going great.
Feeling pretty pleased with myself, I hardly notice Sir direct me through a door into a private room that is pulsing with the music of Elvis Presley’sBurning Love.
I squint through the dim area. Slowly, the lamps brighten, revealing a poker room and wall-to-wall wooden liquor cabinets. “I can feel the patriarchy here,” I giggle, spinning to take in the masculine space. “Should I be offended that Alceu wanted to talk about cooking with me? Because I wasn’t. He was showing an interest in my interests.”
He stares at me.
I smile at him. “Are you jealous, Sir?”
He doesn’t smile back; his look of absolute wicked intent causes a damp heat to gather between my thighs. I squirm. His gaze drops to watch my thighs rub together.
“Territorial, sweet girl. As you so teasingly pointed out earlier.” He shuts the door with a deliberate and profound click. How can a click have meaning? Well, when Clay Butcher is staring at me like he wants to eat me, that’s how.
He stalks towards me.
I back up, gasping with excitement when my thighs touch the poker table. “So,” I giggle from my chest, flooded with butterflies as the Don of the District approaches me. “Am I yourtraditionalwife?”
“You are.”
“Wow.” I giggle again. “Who would have thought?”
He is upon me, in my space, dipping his head to rub his nose along my neck, chasing my raging pulse. “You find your accomplishments in being a good mother and wife. You cook and make our homecomfortable.You have always been this way. This is not news to me.”
“It seems unimpressive,” I breathe.
“Do you see a man like me with a doctor or an athlete like a ballerina who trains most of the day?”
“No. I suppose not.”
Inhaling me, his fingers slide up my sides, igniting my skin. “I find nothing more beautiful than having you create a home for me,” he admits, his voice deep and thick. “I need you. You have always been the perfect fit for a man like me, little deer, but remember, you can do anything you wish. Anything you can dream of. I will make it happen.”
“I’m not very athletic, Sir. Or clever, like Shoshanna. Yearning for family was the hand I was dealt.”
“The hand you’re dealt means nothing. What you choose to do with it, is all that matters.” In a smooth movement, hespins me to face the poker table, his body coming up close behind me. I feel his heat. The dangerous pulse of his presence. His arousal silent, yet loud.
He reaches around me. With one hand, he spreads a deck of cards out, face down, in front of me along the green felt of the poker table.
"Take Poker.” His breath hits my bare neck. "The players are dealt a combination of cards. If you get the highest hand, the game is easier but not guaranteed. You then take turns betting, raising, or folding based on the strength of your hand.”
