Page 51 of French Martini

“How about another walk-through so we can discuss the changes we talked about last time?” Yves is already walking toward the building.

The men he refers to as his brothers are standing out front again, as if the last fifteen minutes didn’t even happen, except the one he called Thorn. But before we even make it across the parking lot, he appears from the alleyway, dragging a hand through his unruly hair with a maniacal grin on his face.

“Handled,” he says, winking at me and wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

“Just the one?” Yves asks.

“Yeah. We’ll add the building to our nightly rotation.”

“I expected you would.” Yves turns to me. “We operate a security company of sorts.”

“Security?”

“More people than buildings, but our skills are useful when protecting our own projects.”

“Cool.” A shiver of foreboding runs down my spine, but I don’t feel unsafe with him. I’m pretty sure other people should though.

He puts his hand on the small of my back—a move I would normally bristle at—but it feels comforting, like a dad guiding his son, even though he looks younger than me. “Don’t worry, Oakley. You’re safer than you’ve ever been when you’re in our presence and we like you.”

“I wasn’t worried about my safety.”

He hums a laugh. “Nor are we part of the organized crime infiltrating the city. It’s my express desire to rid New Onyx of such trash.”

I nod. “It’s none of my business.”

“But it is. We’re partners now. If you ask around, you’ll find that I have a flawless reputation.”

“Again, I’m not worried. Thanks, though.”

“My pleasure. Onward,” he says, gesturing toward the building.

Four long-ass hours later,after meeting with Yves and picking up some supplies from the hardware store, I drive back to Willow Bay, ready to have a hot shower and watch the clock until I can get back to Lowen.

I dig into my front pocket and pull out his panties, taking another sniff. They smell like his signature scent and just a hint of sex. Have I ever done anything even remotely like this before? Uh, no. I’ve never dated a guy who wore panties, and I damn sure haven’t demanded that he hand them over to me and then sniff them all day like some kind of horny animal. Lowen is special though. I knew that the moment I first laid eyes on him,and he’s only proven me right ever since. He makes me step up my work game and he inspires me to be the best version of myself. I can only hope I have the same positive effect on him.

With this traffic it’ll take me at least an hour to get home. Then I’ll only have five hours until I can see my spicy kitten again and let him use me to get off. My cock swells within the tight confines of my jeans and I have to shift to relieve some of the pressure. I can’t wait to get my hands on him again.

I do wonder how far I can take us both though. Lowen craves the bliss of submitting to me, but he’s obviously still trying to fight it. As for me, I’m making this shit up as I go, but it sure is fun.

By the time I exit the freeway for Willow Bay, my stomach is growling and I’m in a pretty foul mood from the heavy traffic. I drive down Main Street, trying to decide whether I want to make a quick sandwich at home and call it dinner or if it would be too stalkery to swing by Moby’s. It’s not entirely unusual for me to eat there twice in a day, and I can get a read on how Lowen is feeling after our lunch interaction.

Changing lanes, I make my decision. Moby’s it is. I could go for some of Wren’s hot wings right now.

I pull into a spot, noting how busy it is, and I smile. I knew the minute I heard about it that it would be a success, and I’m thrilled I was right. We didn’t have any decent food in town until they showed up, always having to trek into the city for dates or anything outside of diners and fast food.

But they always find me a place to sit, even if it’s just at the bar. Entering the building, I look around for an empty table, but it looks pretty packed. Stewart waves as he comes back to the host stand.

“Hey, Oakley. Here for dinner?”

“Yeah, unless it’s too full.”

“We’ll find you a spot. Give me a minute.”

“Thanks.”

I slide my hands into my front pockets, smiling when I feel the silk between my fingers, but then I feel a strange set of hands on my shoulders from behind. I turn to see Sam standing behind me.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

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