Page 7 of Satin Empire

Not just yet though.

“Sit down,” I order.

She puts her hands on her hips. “No thanks. You sit down.”

“You either sit or I call in Helmuth and he’ll make you sit.”

That makes her look uncertain. “You wouldn’t dare. You freaked out when you thought a room full of strangers were about to see my boobs. You wouldn’t let some random crony touch me.” But she doesn’t sound sure.

I step forward, seething a little bit. Why the fuck did that bother me so much? It’s not that she’s Milano’s stepdaughter, although that doesn’t really help—it’s more that she’s supposed to be mine. And I don’t even know her.

“You’re right. I won’t call in Helmuth. I’ll make you sit myself, right in my fucking lap, and I’ll shove my hands up that big sweatshirt of yours and cup your goddamn beautiful tits again until you’re begging to let me fuck you in every dripping wet hole. Now sit down.”

Her eyes go wide. The dirty talk was a little much but I’m beyond frustrated right now. This isn’t how I expected my night to go. I wanted to drink, watch some strippers, count the cash, and go get some goddamn sleep. Instead, I’m dealing with this.

I don’t even know what this is.

Chapter 4

Carlo

She slowly slumps down onto a bench and leans forward, her face in her hands. I watch as the hurricane that’d been ready to show it all to a room full of rowdy perverts melts away, leaving behind just a girl. An attractive, fascinating girl, but just a girl.

“This night really got away from me,” she says, and her voice is small. “Can we just start over? I promise I’ll explain what happened if you stop looking at me like you’re going to kick my teeth out of my mouth.”

I take three deep breaths and make my face as neutral as I possibly can in this moment, which is admittedly not very neutral at all. There’s no way I’d hurt this girl, much less knock out her teeth. She’s way too gorgeous, and anyway, I’m not the woman-hitting type. Still, not the worst thing in the world if I let her keep on thinking I might.

“Explain yourself.”

And she does. She gives me the whole story, starting with her walking in the front door, and ending with my hands on her incredible breasts. Through it all, I keep thinking there are about a dozen different ways this could’ve gone, but Helmuth is an intimidating bastard, and Gina is pushy as hell, and a girl with a relatively high threshold for insanity might just think stripping is a better alternative to walking away, for example.

Part of me is happy she lost her damn mind, because if she hadn’t, we’d be in some booth having an awkward get-to-know-you chat, and I never would have gotten to squeeze her absolutely fantastic tits. Her hard nipples are like ghosts on my fingers and I’m going to stroke my goddamn cock and beat it bloody later tonight just to get the memory out of my head. If that’s even possible.

I sit down next to her, leaning forward, elbows on my knees. Her hands are clasped between her legs and she’s not looking at me. It’s so fucking awkward I could scream, and I still want my hands on her tits more than anything in the world.

“That was a terrible first impression,” she says.

“Could be worse.”

“Yeah? How?”

“Well, for starters, I could’ve hated grabbing your tits.”

She snorts a laugh. “Yeah, but you didn’t. I know that for sure.”

“You noticed?”

“Hard to miss the big dick poking against my back.”

I try not to smile and fail. “Big, huh? You liked that?”

“Easy, boy. Just making a scientific observation.” Her cheeks are flushed and she glances at my crotch, not being super subtle about it.

“Maybe we both enjoyed your little show back there.”

“You’re the one that got to grope me. I’ll note that you haven’t exactly returned the favor and let me grab onto you.”

“Alana, are you asking if you’re allowed to grab my dick?”

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