Page 11 of Salacious Desires

“Not that I’ve noticed or anything, but are you going to keep watching the cocktail waitress like a stalker, or are you going to do something about it?”

My back tenses. Shit. I’d thought I’d been playing it cool.

Asher, one of my longtime friends, smirks. He’s a regular at Edge and has one of the rooms on the third floor. And right now, he’s being way too fucking nosy.

“What are you talking about?”

It’s been a week since Lily started here, and she is by far the best cocktail waitress in the building. She’s efficient, friendly, and doesn’t ever slack off. It bothers me. I’m glad she’s good at her job, but she’s almost too good. Like she doesn’t know anything different.

“Every time I’ve been here this past week, you’ve been gawking at that woman. Who is she?”

Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I cluck my tongue. “Maybe you need to get a life outside of Edge instead of worrying about mine.”

Asher grins, his eyes sparkling. “Nah. This is much more fun. Seeing you all twisted over a woman. She’s cute.”

My gut clenches. I don’t like him calling her cute. Hell, I don’t even like him looking at her. Or any other man laying eyes on her, for that matter. And that feeling is totally foreign to me.

“I’m not twisted over her. I just…I feel protective over her for some reason. She seems so innocent. I’m keeping an eye on her.”

“Uh-huh.” Asher crosses his arms over his chest. “And how many other employees do you keep an eye on?”

I scoff and turn to look at my soon-to-be ex-friend. “Don’t you have a submissive to tie up or something? Anything other than harassing me?”

“Maybe I’m harassing you because I know you. I can tell you like her, but it freaks you out because you don’t like women. Not in a long-term kind of way.”

Asher's words hit me like a cold splash of water. I swallow hard, trying to push the unease away. But I can't deny the truth in his accusation. I've never felt this intrigued by anyone. There’s something undeniably captivating about Lily, something that stirs deep within me.

“Let’s just drop it, okay? I'm not going to explain my feelings to you. You don’t know her or anything about her. Just leave it alone.” I turn around and stride for the privacy of my office, where I can watch her on the camera feed.

The thing is, I don’t know anything about her either. I’ve just been lurking in the shadows. Maybe I should try to get to know her a little bit. She might not have any experience in this lifestyle, but she was definitely intrigued by the scene we watched last week. It was like she couldn’t look away. I wanted to ask her questions. What did she like about that scene? Would she like to experience something like that?

Easton and Faye are in the office when I sit at my desk. She’s curled up on the couch with a book while Easton sits at his desk working on the computer.

“Hey, Drake,” she says softly.

“Hey, Faye. What are you reading?”

Her cheeks flush, and she glances at Easton, then back at me. “It’s a science book about Cell and Molecular Biology.”

I need to stop asking her that question. Every time I do, I feel a tiny bit dumber than the last time I asked. The woman is a brilliant scientist. She also makes my brother happier than I’ve ever seen him. So, I guess I don’t mind feeling like an idiot next to her.

“That sounds incredibly boring, Faye, but whatever floats your boat.”

She blinks at me several times. “I don’t have a boat.”

Right, she’s also very literal.

“Everything going smoothly out there?”

Thank goodness for Easton’s interruption. I’m pretty sure I’d lose the conversation about boats and all that anyway.

“Yes. It’s busy tonight. We’re almost at capacity.”

Easton raises an eyebrow and leans back in his chair. “Damn. Who knew when we opened this place that it would be like this?”

It’s true. We opened Edge because we wanted to. We didn’t need the money. The app we created back in college made us rich. Each app since then has made us richer. Edge is a passion project for both of us, and it’s gone exceptionally well. Hell, my brother found his woman here. And maybe I have, too.

I close my eyes and run my hands through my hair, pulling at the strands. Shit. Why am I even thinking that? Something is wrong with me.

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