Page 17 of Blinded By The Sun
“It isn’t but I understand their reasoning.”
“You must miss her.” I say.
Bobby gives me a slight smile. “Yeah, I miss her every day. She has a phone now, so she sneaks her calls to me. We’ve sometimes met up without our parents knowing.”
“Aww that’s so sweet. I wish I had a big brother. If they’re like you, then they’re good.”
There’s an expression on Bobby’s face that looks like sadness, but he replaces it quickly. “You don’t have any siblings?”
I shrug this time. “I don’t know. My mom died when I was 2 and my father gave me to my uncle. The women raised me in the brothel.”
Bobby raises his brows. “Really?”
I nod. “Mm-hmm.”
Bobby opens his mouth to say something, but his phone rings. “Give me a second, I’ll be right back.”
I sit in the seat that Bobby was sitting in. I grab the glass that was his and I drink. I feel like I’m floating, yet I’m here. I stare at the glass, tilting my head. There has to be alcohol in here. I’ve never gotten drunk in my life but I’ve seen the other ladies drinking with the customers. I’ve smelled some of their drinks after. I sniff the content. It doesn’t smell like the other drinks at my uncle’s club.
The girl, Milly comes back around but when we make eye contact, I smile at her yet she doesn’t do the same. She turns to walk off. “Um, excuse me, can I please get another of these?” I lift my glass up.
Milly turns to face me. “Another? Ma’am, you’ve had about 5 and that’s as much as we’re giving. Usually, the paying customer can have as much as they like, but it doesn’t seem like you’re the one paying.” She gives me a dirty look.
I’m shocked. “Pardon?” I ask. Maybe I’m just hearing things.
“We rarely serve your kind here.” She curls her upper lip in disgust.
“My kind? Like what, whores?”
“Your words, not mine.”
“What do you have against whores? It’s just a profession. Like your job you’re doing now. Nobody does it because they like it.” I state.
“We’re nothing alike.” She states.
“I’m sorry, do we know each other?” I ask again.
“Do you know each other?” I hear Ciro’s voice behind me.
I turn to face him. I look up at him, he’s so fucking sexy. I tune out whatever’s happening as my body goes into overdrive just staring at him. I’ve never really been too sexual, but there’s just something about him. Ciro looks down at me. His lips are moving, but I hear absolutely nothing. He snaps his fingers in my face.
“Pardon? What did you say?” I ask him.
“Don’t worry about it. Stand up, let me see what you like to wear.” He commands. I stand and Ciro comes around. I face him and look up at him. He inspects my outfit. “Nice.” The back of his fingers graze my bare skin. He reaches to the buttons and begins unbuttoning the dress.
I look behind him. From this angle I can see the girl, Milly. She watches what’s going on. She doesn’t say a word. “Sir.” I say.
Ciro grabs my jaw and makes me look at him. “What the fuck did I tell you? If you’re going to be looking at me, it’ll be just me invading your space especially when I’m present. Don’t worry about her, she’ll see what it’s like to be fucked like a whore.”
I shudder as I feel the air connect with my nipples. My short dress is open, exposing every part of me. Thankfully, I’m wearing underwear that we got before the salon. Ciro inspects me from head to toe. He touches my hair and moves it behind my shoulder, exposing the bite marks and the hickey. “Mr. Sarkozy…” I call his name out just because I can.
If a man can give a look that both terrifies me and turns me on, it’s Ciro. It’s the way he looks at me now after hearing me call him by his surname. He places his thumb on my lips, then traces over them. I can feel as he practically smudges the lipstick off my lips. I shudder as I feel a boldness take over. I step in his space and I reach out touching him. He looks amazing in his black short sleeve dress shirt tucked into his black pants and dress shoes that are spotless, I can see my reflection.
“Eyes up here, Kingsley. What did I just say?”
I peer up at him through my lashes. “You said to always look at you, Mr. Sarkozy, sir.” I giggle, then hiccup.
Ciro wraps his arm around me and pulls me flush to his body. He glares at me. Gone is the flirting man. “Are you tipsy?”
