Page 3 of The Gift

“Bishop. What a surprise.”

“Quite. Didn’t picture you as the type to visit strip clubs,” I say, applying my patented panty melting grin.

“You do know what I do for a living, right?” At my confused frown, she throws her head back and laughs loudly before looking at me again. “I manage the biggest brothel in thecity. For the Cammareri Family.”

I knew this. Beast told me. But just looking at her has all the information I should have available fleeing from my mind.

“I know,” I say. “But running a brothel and visiting a strip club are two very different things.”

I slide into the booth even though she never replied just as the waitress returns with Allegra’s drink. Just as quickly as she appeared, she leaves.

“What brings you here on Christmas Eve?” Allegra asks.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” she replies, leaning forward and flashing me her cleavage.

“You shouldn’t say shit like that to a man like me,” I warn. “I might take you up on the offer.”

She laughs again. “I wasn’t offering to fuck you in the alley.”

“I definitely wouldn’t fuck you in the alley,” I say lowly. “You’re not the type of girl any man could fuck and forget.”

Chapter Three

Allegra

Fuck.

I forgot how attractive Bishop is. And when he flashes those damn dimples, he is downright gorgeous. Dark blonde hair, green eyes, average height but muscular. He has a strong jaw with high cheekbones covered by a slight bit of scruff. The jeans he wears like a second damn skin have my gaze traveling to his thighs every now and then no matter how much I tell myself I won’t ogle him.

This conversation escalated quickly.

“Do you always talk to women like this?”

“Only when I don’t think I’ll get slapped.”

I shake my head with a chuckle. I haven’t laughed this much all year. There isn’t much about my life or job that invites laughter. But there is something about Bishop that is different. I find his honesty refreshing. And if I am being truthful, I’ve been thinking about him. In the early hours of the morning, when I’m horny, alone in bed. I only met the man once, but he was instantly added to my spank bank.

“What makes you think I won’t slap you?” I ask.

“You haven’t yet.”

I nod. It’s a shitty way of thinking, but he isn’t wrong. Although, if he was any other man I probably would have slapped him long ago.

“I’m here because I hate Christmas,” I say, changing the subject. “I needed a drink, and all my regular spots were closed. I have no family and nowhere to go. And I’m tired of being dragged into the Cammareri family gatherings out of pity.”

“My parents are both dead,” he says with a nod. “Everyone in the Gypsy Bastards always tries to make me feel like part of their families and I hate it. I’m a loner. Why can’tpeople just leave me be?”

“What are we doing?” I ask.

“Getting to know one another.”

“And then?”

“We’ll get to that later.”

“So, I can say whatever I want and there won’t be any repercussions? When we’re done, we simply walk away from each other like tonight never happened?” I ask.

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