Page 7 of Petrichor

Ten Years Later

Marco

Her scarlet lips smile at me before she turns her head back and pushes the men’s bathroom door open. I follow her inside. My head feels fuzzy with alcohol, but it looks like I haven’t drunk enough—I still get irritated by her empty giggling.

She leans against the sink counter, assuming a pinup pose with her breasts out and her legs rubbing together. Then she puckers her lips in a sexy move I bet she gave to all the other fools before me. My dick is hard, but my face remains unfazed.

I know her type. She likes powerful men and what they can give her. Being Sebastiano Leone’s right hand I am a veryinfluentialman, respected and feared by many. And she likes that. I don’t really care about her intentions. I’m here with her for one reason only.

“Get on your knees,” I order, as I start opening my pants.

Her white teeth peek through the satisfied smirk she attempts to hide as she sashays her way toward me. Her long hair brushes her shoulders with every step she takes, eyes sparkling with smugness. But I can also see fear there. As it should be.

She kneels at my feet as I pull my boxer briefs down, releasing my stiff dick.

“The rumors are true. You’re big,” she purrs in an overly pretentious way, while giving me a desire-filled look.

I fist the top of her hair and pull. As soon as she opens her mouth I shove my cock inside, mostly to shut her up and get it over with. She fucking came to me while I was minding my own business at the bar and sipping my whiskey. She started hitting on me, puckering her plump lips and using the straw in her drink like a lollipop. She knew what I like and even whispered it in my ear. She’s no fucking saint. So now she’s getting it.

But fuck, she’s bad at it. She isn’t using her tongue at all, and she can only take half of my dick. Plus her porno-fake moans are ridiculous.

“Take it deeper,” I growl, as I try to pump in and out. What the fuck? I like it rough, fast, and hard; didn’t she ask around? This is not working. Her flowery perfume is too pungent, it keeps irritating my nose. It’s unbearable.

I yank her off my still hard dick and take a step back, letting go of her hair. I should have kept drinking.Fuck.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Fucking everything.

The door to one of the stalls on the left suddenly opens, and a guy comes out. His intense stare is on my face for a long moment, studying me. He doesn’t seem to be affected by the scene in front of him as he moves to the sink.

“Hey,” he utters, looking at the woman through the reflection in the mirror. “This is the men’s, get out.”

She quickly stands up. “Do you know who you’re talking to?” she retorts pompously. Pretty sure she means me.

The guy raises his brow at her before looking at me. “I don’t care,” he says, starting to wash his hands. That’s a first. Everybody knows who I am in this city.

She turns my way, probably expecting me to put the guy in his place. But I’m sick of her, so looking straight at her face, I just bark, “Out.”

“Wh-what?” She sounds incredulous.So annoying.They are all the same, money grabbers, power hungry and fake.

“What did you expect from someone who dragged you to a men’s toilet in a bar? Roses and champagne?” The guy snorts, sparing me from answering her.

“Fuck you!” She grits her teeth, and grabbing her bag from the counter, she stomps out.

“Why did you let her suck you off if you can’t even stand her?” He raises a questioning brow at me.

“Who says I can’t?”

“Let’s see, the way you looked at her, treated her, and dismissed her, obviously.” He turns around, facing me, and crosses his arms. He’s wearing black leggings and a pair of dark shorts. His shoulders are left bare by his gray sweater, displaying the dainty bones and smooth skin.

“I needed a hole,” I reply crassly. But it's the truth. I just needed to get off. To stop thinking and let it all out. I still do.

“Then use mine.” His nonchalant reply baffles me for a moment, but I’m good at hiding it behind my mobster mask. I look into his eyes, but there’s no trace of mirth in them. Is he seriously offering to suck my dick?

I’m used to women boldly hitting on me. Men? I can’t say it’s happened before.

I let my gaze study him. Straight, dark blondish hair, delicate features emphasized by some makeup. His lips are plump and shiny. He is androgynous, his lean body could easily pass for a girl if he tried. His voice is light. But he’s still a man. Fuck, did I really contemplate doing it? My mind must be fucked up by all the alcohol I drank.

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