“Have you considered the fact that we respect each other enough to wait?” I muttered.
He barked out a laugh. “What fucking century are you guys even living in?” The thing with Austin was that he really was a good guy—deep down, beneath the asshole exterior people who didn’t know him saw, but I knew him. With a father that ditched his mother at a young age and being raised by his mother and grandmother, he shouldered the man of the house responsibility and tried to do right by them, always. Acting out was his way of dealing with his shortcomings and there were a few. “Look, I get that you’ve always been my nerdy friend but there’s an ocean of pussy out there waiting for your fucking cock. So, get to it before that dick becomes a permanent fucking rubber band.”
“Fuck off,” even as I grunted the words, I realized he was right. Out of the five of us, I was the only one who hadn’t lost his virginity yet. Which was surprising since having Austin as my wingman meant pussy was an easy treat. Girls fell at his feet without him asking. Thanks to my father’s noble upbringing, though, I ended up being the ‘waiting for that special lady’ type of guy. Still, I hoped like hell it would happen tonight or I was likely to believe Austin’s prediction.
Slanting my gaze toward Zena, I watched her take the guy’s orders and suddenly remembered why I was willing to wait. She was fucking gorgeous with dark, short hair that bounced around her neck every time she moved and highlighted by dusky features. Crudely, my dick twitched as my gaze dropped to her ass making me eager to feel those firm cheeks in my hands as I held on and fucked her. Christ, I was a lot more drunk than I thought. Grinning, I shook my head.
I was in junior high the first time I met her. Her father owned the local ice cream parlor and we’d gone there to hang out for my sixteenth birthday. She was helping over the weekend and Austin being the usual prick was a real ass to her. Annoyed, she’d dumped a milkshake over his head, not that he didn’t deserve it. I apologized to her and somehow, we became friends. Although we hung out often, our first kiss only happened a year later at a school dance she’d attended with me.
If it hadn’t been for Zena, I wouldn’t have agreed to try our luck at gaining entrance into The Serpente, one of the most exclusive clubs in Manhattan. She worked here as a mixologist and had been teaching me the tricks for the last six months. Keen to explore more techniques, I wanted to see her in action. Whether my father agreed to me making it a permanent career, was a conversation for another day. I was Rayden Princeton, heir tothemost affluent high-end jewelers in the US. It was inevitable that I’d end up running the business someday.
Two hours later, our one drink one dance stay became a couple more. And although the guys behaved, my gaze stayed riveted on the beauty on the other side of the counter.
“Where the hell is Antonio?” I caught the irritation in her voice as she yelled at a blonde woman at the other end of the bar.”
“Probably running an errand for the boss,” the woman called over her shoulder.
“What the fuck,” Zena gritted. “It’s Saturday, how are we supposed to manage this place alone?” She slid a beer along the frosted counter.
The guy who caught it with nimble fingers threw her a kiss. “Thanks, babe.”
She winked at him. “Anything for you, handsome.” Her call had me going green with envy. The club had filled up and with that, her attention hardly flittered our way.
Giving no thought to my actions, I shot up from my seat, walked over to where she stood and slipped in between two women waiting to be served. “Hey, Zena?” She glanced over her shoulder while balancing four glasses filled with a pink drink. “Let me help.”
Turning fully, she set the glasses down in front of the frantic hands of the two women then frowned at me. “Help with what?”
“You’re busy and you kinda look short-handed. You know I can help.”
She shook her head. “Thanks, Rayden, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“C’mon—”
“Zena.” A waitress arrived at my side, cutting me off. “I need a vodka tonic, a White Russian, and two Macallans.”
“Got it, Sherri. Give me a sec, Ray.” Zena moved away to the shelves behind her. I watched her work the order. Fuck, she was fast. Barely a minute or so passed and she was ringing up the order and handing it over.
“Hey, handsome, you here alone?” Sherri slid a hand around me, nudging her body closer to mine.
“Depends.” At her arched brow, I winked. “If you want me to be,” I teased, realizing alcohol made me a lot bolder.
Her hand dropped to my ass, squeezing a cheek while one of her tits rubbed against my arm. “Sure you—”
“You’re working,” Zena cut in. I didn’t miss the cold snip to her words.
Judging by her frown, neither did Sherri. She inched away from me. “I can’t believe how quickly this place filled up and it’s not even eleven yet.” She took hold of the tray Zena held out.
“It’s the usual weekend crowd. You haven’t been around for a Saturday night shift in a while remember,” Zena replied stiffly.
It thrilled the fuck out of me that she was showing jealousy, even if it were just a little. Since meeting her, I learned she was the hot and cold type of woman. Maybe it was my age or maybe I still needed to understand a woman’s temperament, the reactions from her excited me. My cock gave a twitch of appreciation. Maybe after tonight, it would know what a pussy felt like.
Sherri rolled her eyes. “Fuck, it’s like I never left. Later.” She walked away and I waited while Zena served another patron who, by the way he was leaning over the counter wanted a little more than just a drink. I heard her curse under her breath as she shoved the Heineken in his outstretched hand.
He grinned. “Doesn’t come with a kiss, does it?”
She turned her back on him.
“Zena.” I reached for her hand as she walked by me. “Let me help, please. You know I’m good for it.” I was a little more than tipsy, but she didn’t need to know that.
