And last year… I gave in and fucked him on his thirty-second birthday. Not because of the money. Not because of the pressure. But because one day I looked up, and the boy in my chair was gone. In his place was a man with mafia in his blood, French on his tongue, and a look in his eyes that said he’d already claimed me. I was just too stubborn to admit it.
I was a short, BBW woman, loud as hell, always ready to fight the bullies who thought they could push me. I wasn’t the kind of woman people pictured next to a billionaire mafia heir. But Ares didn’t want a picture. He wanted authenticity.
And the truth was that I wanted his realness too, and he gave it to me.
Now I was waiting for him to arrive for his three-week cut. The shop was closed, lights low, just the faint buzz of the neon sign outside that read Royal Fade. It was late. Way too late for a billionaire to be sitting in a hood barbershop, but that’s how Ares liked it. Quiet. No cameras. Just him and me.
I watched a Rolls-Royce pull in front of my shop, and he stepped out of the back. He walked in with a bouquet of roses in one hand, a bag from Van Cleef & Arpels in the other.
“You’re being nice today. You ain’t been around since I made you look good for Forbes,” I said, arching a brow.
“Had to make it up to you,” he said, setting them on my station.
I laughed, shaking my head, motioning for him to sit. He dropped into the chair, leaned back, eyes on me while I draped the cape around him.
“You know I only trust you with this,” he said low. “Ain’t nobody else touching my line.”
“Mm-hm.” I brushed the clippers across his fade. “Not even your other little girlfriends?”
He smirked, dimples cutting deep. “They can touch me everywhere else. This? This is yours.”
I washed his hair, gave him a facial, and faded him to the Gods. By the time I finished his cut, he was watching me in the mirror. He stood, turned, and pinned me against my own station.
“You still see me as Lil Ghost?” he whispered against my neck.
I swallowed hard. “No, not in a long time.”
His mouth crashed into mine, rough, hungry. I gasped as his hands slid down, lifting me onto the counter like I weighed nothing.
“Tu es belle,” he murmured in French against my skin. I didn’t understand the words, but the way his voice dropped made my thighs part without a thought.
He slid down to his knees, big hands spreading me wide, his tongue greedy and unrelenting on my pussy. I grabbed the mirror for balance, moaning as he ate me like he’d been starving for years.
“I’m about to cum, Ares…” I gasped, grinding against his mouth.
He pulled back, lips glistening, eyes dark. “Say my name again.”
“Ares,” I whispered.
He smirked, unbuckling his belt. “Nah. Say Ghost.”
“Ghost…” I moaned as he pushed me down to my knees.
I wrapped my lips around him when I got his pants down, sucking slowly, teasing, letting spit trail down his manhood while his hand tangled in my hair.
“Putain,” he groaned, hips bucking.Fuck…
I bobbed deeper, gagging slightly, but he pulled me off, lifting me like I weighed nothing, bending me over the station. I reached into my purse and handed him a condom. I wasn’t one of the girls who had raw sex, no matter how much I loved a man.
The mirror reflected us. I was flushed and messy, him behind me, suit jacket off.
He leaned over, lips at my ear, voice low and lethal.
“N’oublie jamais que tu es à moi.”Never forget you’re mine.
When Ares left that night, he told me he was going to France for a few weeks, and I would be the first person he would see when he came back… and I held him to that promise.
CHAPTER 6
