Page 7 of Scorching Sienna

“This is Sienna. Sienna, this is Damon.” Big Mike's introduction in his jovial tone underplays this moment.

The air in the room becomes thick, and I can see her throat working to swallow, her mouth as dry as mine.

My eyes squint in warning when he looks like he is about to follow that up with me being the co-owner of this gym. Hence, I directed her this way in one of my notes—just another way to watch her and to watch her watch me.

“Hi, um, it’s great to meet another regular here.” Her voice is just like I remember—soft, sultry, delicate—all at once. It's a conundrum that a woman so innocent can have a voice that calls to the wicked.

She steps forward, rubbing her hand against her thigh before holding it out awkwardly.

I step forward, my long legs eating the distance as I stand in front of her, my large hand engulfing hers. Fuck, her hand is so soft. An obvious contrast to my rough one.

I don’t say a word. Just stare at her until she starts squirming. She looks at Big Mike for help, and the smile on his face tells me he is well aware of the tension between us and will do nothing to alleviate it.

“Listen, Damon, you said you were looking for someone to help out at the club. Well, Sienna here is looking for a part-time job, sowhat do you say?” Big Mike asks, the wink he gives me reminds me that later, he will pay.

He knew she wasn’t here by chance and that it had everything to do with me. Why the fuck I told him these things, I don’t know. Perhaps because he is the closest thing to a friend that I have.

Maybe also because he runs this place all by himself, and I don’t have to do jack shit. Whatever it was, I was rethinking our relationship.

“A club? Oh really, you own a club. How exciting. I actually went to a club a couple of months ago. Met a stranger there. He was so nice to me. Helped me in a moment of need. I just wish I knew where to find him. To say thank you.” While telling this story, she looks at me closely, leaning forward even to see if I react.

“Well,” laughs Big Mike, “this must be fate then. You get someone to help you,” Big Mike says, pointing at me, “and you get to look for that stranger. Win-win all around.” His gaze jumps between Sienna and me, his smile growing as the seconds tick by.

“Ahh, Bennie, so good to see you!” Big Mike shouts to a regular who has just walked in. “I’ll be right back.” And with those words, he leaves, his ruse to talk to Bennie to leave us alone only apparent to me. Sienna looks at his retreating figure with alarm before her gaze returns to me.

“Soooo,” she drawls out awkwardly, her hand, which I have reluctantly released, clasping the other one in front of her.

Her big, green, Lake Tovel-colored eyes filled with innocence, looking at me expectantly.

Fuck, this was a bad idea. But having her at the club would mean I could keep her close. Get to know her outside of the file I already had on her or the snooping I had already done.

“Come,” is all I say as I walk towards the gym entrance. She follows like a puppy, almost running to keep up with me.

“Where to?”

“To my club. For an interview. You will work, and I will see if you are a good fit.” A good fit. Fuck. As I gaze over at her, all I can think about is how well my dick will fit into that sweet little mouth. She wouldn’t take all of me, but she would look good trying.

“Right now?” she asks, her voice strained as we continue out the gym. I nod at Big Mike, who greets us both as we leave.

“Do you want the job or not?” I stop in my tracks, eyeing her and hoping, for the sake of her virtue, that she says no.

“Yes. I just need to go home, shower, and change. Unless this is okay?” Her question is accompanied by her looking down, my eyes following as I examine her appearance.

While I loved this look, I ventured it would cause issues where we were going, and I wasn’t in the mood to fight off a swarm of perving men. Though, spandex or not, that fate might be inevitable. This woman was perfection.

“We will stop on the way.” I turn, continuing to my car parked in a dark corner of the lot.

“You are coming to my house?” she squeaks out, stopping just where the light ends before fading into the shadow of the dark where I am now standing.

Leaning against my truck, I watch her grapple with what to do.

Good. She has some sense of danger. She should follow that instinct and stay far away from me.

“Do you have a problem with that?” I keep my tone passive and my features calm, placing the ball in her court.

Say yes and leave, I encourage mentally, hoping she can see that this is where I live—in the shadows. And once she steps into the dark, I might not let go of her. I might consume her, swallow her up whole.

The gears are going, and her teeth chew the inside of her cheek. AsI am about to get in and leave, she slowly nods and takes the step that seals her fate—the step toward me.

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