“I’m going to wash up,” he says as he walks away.
Once he is down the back hall to the bathroom, Mark brings the coffee.
“Sorry. I just assumed he wasn’t a client,” he says awkwardly as he pours my coffee.
“He isn’t…I honestly don’t know what he is.”
“He’s old enough to be your dad, that’s what he is.”
“Shut up! You go for older women all the time, slut,” I tease. I glance behind me at the hall to make sure Myles isn’t coming back yet.
“Hey, at least you could get away with calling him Daddy.”
“Eww. Stop!” I throw a creamer cup at him, and we laugh.
Mark is the only other person besides Jaz that I’ve become friends with outside the club since coming back. He’s a year younger than I am. Not much taller than me either, with sandy blonde hair that you can tell he hardly does anything with except run his fingers through it. He’s cute, but I only see him as a brother. He moved here eight years ago with his family, and he decided to stay.
“Do you know what you want? Besides ancient dick?” he winks as he sets down the pot and sits down in the booth next to me.
“Shut up! He isn’t even that old.”
“Mina, he’s like twenty years older than you!”
“So? I didn’t say I was going to marry him, but you gotta admit…He is hot.” I lick my lips, remembering the way he tasted when he kissed me.
“Not my type. I’ll be back when your newDaddygets back.”
“I’m already back,” a low voice growls from behind us. The noise runs down my spine and straight to my clit.
Mark shoots up and out of the booth. His face is drained of all color, and he looks terrified.
“Sorry…I’ll give you a moment.”
“No need. Sunshine, do you know what you want?” heasks as he brushes past Mark and sits in the booth across from me.
Mark looks at me, confused. I quickly grab my menu, as if I’m not just going to get the same thing I always get.
“The biscuits and gravy, please. With a side of scrambled eggs.”
“Cheese?” he smirks.
“Yes, please.”
Mark turns to Myles, but Myles hasn’t taken his eyes off me.
“I’ll have the same.” He picks up the menus and hands them to Mark, silently dismissing him without another word.
He grabs my mug and tops off my coffee. The bitter scent of burnt coffee grounds drifts between us. He swirls the pot, and you can see grounds along the bottom.
“I’ll be right back.” He stands and walks to the counter with the pot. He leans on the counter while glaring at the back of Mark's head. He’s too busy texting, so he doesn’t even realize Myles is there until he clears his throat.
Mark jumps, and his cell phone drops to the floor. It slides under the counter.
“Shit,” he hisses. “Sorry, Sir. What can I do for you?”
“Fresh pot of coffee, please. This time, no coffee grounds in it.”
He sets the pot down on the counter and walks back to our booth. He grabs two clean coffee mugs off another table on his way back. I glance back at Mark, but he’s gone.
