Page 1 of Savage Bosses

Desire Me

SAVAGE BOSSES

Tiya Rayne

CHAPTER 1

First Sight

Tiffany

“A

nother bottle for the table,” Marcus sings out. Everyone around us cheers in excitement.

The slight headache that started as soon as we entered this club is growing in intensity.

When I asked my boyfriend what he wanted to do for his birthday, I thought he would have had something a little more personal in mind. Something intimate for the two of us. Never would I have imagined my twenty-five-year-old ass would be at a night club at two in the morning.

I’m not a prude. I went clubbing in my younger years just as much as anyone else. However, I’m not one for being in overly loud places with sweaty bodies brushing up against me. Well, unless I’m at a Knicks game.

The other reason I’m not thrilled to be at a club on his birthday is because I knew overspending would be the outcome.

“Babe, don’t you think you should cut back,” I say, leaning into Marcus so I can be heard over the loud rap music telling me to throw my ass back.

Marcus frowns. “What are you talking about? I’m nowhere near drunk?”

His alcohol consumption is not my concern.

“I know. It’s just these bottles are $1000 apiece.”

Despite my boyfriend’s denial, we don’t have it like that. The money Marcus got those two years he was in the NBA is quickly drying up. I’ve done everything I could to make that money stretch as long as it has. Meanwhile, he’s only concerned about keeping up appearances for his friends. Friends, might I add, that haven’t given a shit about him since he got hurt.

Marcus places a hand on my knee and squeezes. “Relax, Tiff. It’s my birthday. We’re living it up tonight.”

He shouts the last part to the table and the leeches around him cheer.

I don’t remind him that it’s tomorrow I’m worried about.

Leaning into him again so as not to be heard, I say, “I know. I want you to have a great time, but you don’t have to prove anything to these people.”

He frowns, removing his hand from my leg. “I’m not proving shit to anyone. I’m Marcus Williams. The number six recruit for the Philadelphia Birds. I averaged eighteen points a game in my career.”

A career that was cut short because you decided to drive drunk after leaving a club one night and broke your leg in two places. However, instead of reminding him of that, I plant my supportive girlfriend smile on my face.

“Yes, baby, you were amazing,” I say as politely as I can. “But our savings is not what it used to be and I’m not getting a lot of work at the job yet.”

“Can I have one night where you’re not reminding me of that shit. I get it, you’re the only one bringing in money. Damn it’s my birthday.”

He folds his arms across his chest like a petulant child. He acts like I enjoy this. I hate that I have to be the one to always set budgets and manage the money, but if I didn’t, we wouldn’t have been able to make it work this long.

Tired of playing responsible adult to his bullshit, I huff out a breath. “You know what, do what you want.” Standing to my feet, I tug the hem of my dress down and leave him and his friends to enjoy their overpriced vodka. I pass the bottle girl on my way to the bar.

Not only did we pay $100 a head for everyone to get into this upscale club, but we also had to sit in VIP. I guess that’s a bonus. I don’t have to fight my way through a packed dance floor to get to the bar.

“Can I have a shot of Tequila please,” I say to the bartender.

“Sure, which one do you want?”

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