Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
The sound of clinking… something has me jumping up in bed.
Someone is in the living room. Alfie left late last night, or this morning.
I’m not sure what time it was. I do know I was thoroughly fucked and exhausted.
Alfie made me join him in the shower and then, surprisingly, was so sweet and tucked me into bed, pressed a kiss to my forehead, and walked out.
That doesn’t tell me who the hell is in the living room banging shit around.
I get up and grab the hotel robe, tying it tight around my body before opening the door to find a waiter setting up the dining table. “Um, hi,” I stutter out.
“Morning, Miss Olive. I’m almost done and then I’ll be out of your way,” the guy says.
“Um, I didn’t order this,” I reply awkwardly.
“It was ordered for you.” He grips the trolley. “Enjoy, ma’am,” he says with a nod.
“Wait! Let me find my purse.” I look around the living room for where I dumped it.
“No need. Enjoy your day.”
Before I can argue, the guy’s gone.
I stare at the table that has a spread fit for a king laid out on it. What the hell is this?
I run back into the bedroom to grab my phone, which somehow found its way onto a charger. Pulling the cord out, I hit Angus’s number. It rings three times before he answers.
“Yeah?”
“Did you send me up breakfast?” I ask him.
“Good morning to you too, Mol. No, I didn’t send you breakfast.”
“Oh.” I pause. “Well, get to my room. There’s too much food here for just me and we need to talk.” I cut the call, knowing he’ll get his ass out of bed and come to my room.
I walk back out to the dining room, and a sigh escapes me at the sight of a cappuccino. “Thank you, coffee gods.” Falling into the seat, I flinch at the slight sting on my ass and other areas, which are all a tad sore today.
Alfie said I’d be walking with a limp. He wasn’t wrong.
Last night was… enlightening. I gave up all sense of control, just handed it to him on a silver platter and let him do whatever he wanted with my body.
He didn’t disappoint, but I hate him even more for it.
I don’t want to like him. He’s the person blocking my proposals from going through.
My phone vibrates with a message.
AG:
Enjoy breakfast.
Me:
Who is this?
I smile, knowing that’s probably going to piss him off.
AG:
The man who made you come seven times last night.
Me:
I faked it. But at least I will get some satisfaction from this bacon. Thank you.
AG:
You will regret those words.
I hear the click of the door opening and then Angus is walking in. “Oh, thank god you’re here,” I tell him.
“You alone?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Angus sits down on the chair next to me. “Why did you order so much food?”
“I didn’t order it.” I shrug. “But you’re going to help me eat it.”
My phone vibrates again, and I peek at the screen.
AG:
If you’re going to have other men in your suite, put some clothes on.
I roll my eyes and don’t bother replying. Mr. Giuliani can go screw himself if he thinks I’m going to just jump and do as he says.
“So, who did this?” Angus waves a hand at the spread of food covering the table.
“Okay, don’t judge me…”
“I would never judge you, Mol. What’d you do?”
“It’s more of a who did I do?” I smirk.
“The guy from the bar?”
I shake my head. “He didn’t work out. But before I tell you, just know it was worth it. I think. Because I had the best sex of my entire life last night. Like, not just good but world-shattering, star-seeing, body-shaking orgasms, as in plural.”
“Okay, TMI, Mol. You could have just said it was good sex.” Angus shakes his head. “So, who was it?”
“Look… just know I’m not exactly proud of myself for this and it’s probably not going to happen again.”
“Probably?”
“Well, I can’t guarantee it won’t because there’s something about him that just, well, gets my motors going… if you know what I mean.”
“Molly, who is it?”
“Alfie Giuliani,” I whisper his name.
Angus’s eyes widen. “You fucked the man who is preventing the sales from going through?”
“Actually, I let him fuck me.”
“Semantics, Mol. You’re in bed with the enemy. Is that who sent you this?”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“Don’t eat it. What if it’s poisoned?” Angus swipes a piece of bacon out of my hand. I roll my eyes and grab another one.
“He’s not poisoning me, Angus.”
“You don’t know that. How did this even happen? You left with that plain dude.”
“Alfie was waiting for me when I got back here.” I leave out the part where he threatened to blow that poor guy’s head off and the part where he was already inside my room. “It’s not that bad.”
“Sure, no, of course not. It’s just sex, right?” Angus asks. “Right.”
“Right! Really good sex.”
“I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what made this sex so good?” Angus quirks a curious brow.
“I don’t know. It just was.” I lift a shoulder and fill my mouth with more bacon.
No way am I telling Angus I let Alfie spank my ass and then when he bit my breast, I asked him to do it again. And again. Shit, I forgot about that.
“Hold that thought. I’m going to get dressed.” I jump up, run into the bedroom, and slam the door shut.
Opening my robe, I stand in front of the mirror and stare at my reflection.
“That asshole,” I growl at the sight of the bite marks on my stomach, but they’re not just bite marks. They make out the letter A.
I was so lost in the pleasure I didn’t even notice what he was doing. The asshole was marking me. Literally putting his initial on my stomach. It’s going to take at least a week or two for these bruises to go away.
Shoving the robe off, I then open the closet and pull out a pale-pink dress. I retrieve the matching lingerie set out of a drawer and place all the items on the bed. Once I’m all cleaned up, I look at my reflection in the mirror again.
The dress falls to my knees. A small slit runs up my left leg. It’s tight-fitted with a square neckline that makes my boobs look amazing. The sleeves end just above my elbows.
I head into the bathroom and apply a light amount of makeup and a whole ton of setting spray to my face. It’s so hot outside I’d likely sweat every bit of makeup off otherwise.
I run a brush through my hair but decide to leave it down today. I’m not planning on meeting anyone. It’s not as if they’re going to meet with me anyway. I’ll wait until the gala. That’s when I’m going to make my move.
Angus is still sitting at the table when I walk back out. I’m hoping I was gone long enough for him to forget what we were talking about.
“So, what’s the plan?” he asks.
“I need to go shopping. I need to find a dress for the gala. I’m not going to try to make a move on any of these assholes until Saturday night. But I need a dress that will turn heads. I need to be noticed.”
“You turn heads in a potato sack, Mol,” Angus says.
“Why thank you, but you’re biased. I need you to meet with the team again and let them know the new plan of action.”
“Already scheduled a meeting for this afternoon. They’re all shitting themselves.”
“As they should be. It shouldn’t be this fucking hard to secure a building,” I groan. “We’ve done this countless times. We’ve had pushback before and still come out on top. This time is not going to be any different.”
“We’ve never had pushback from the mafia. Holy shit, Molly Olive!” Angus jumps up, his eyes wide again.
“What?”
“You slept with a mobster.”
“Alfie is not a mobster.” I laugh. “He’s just really good at sex.”
I reclaim my chair, pick up the glass of juice, and down it. “So, let’s eat, and then shop, and then we’ll meet with the team.”
“Okay.” Angus is tapping away at his phone as I fill my mouth with food.
“What are you doing?”
“Booking you a hair and makeup stylist for Saturday,” he says.
“I knew there was a reason I kept you around.” I smirk.
“I thought it was my boyish good looks.” Angus laughs.
“That too.” I shift on the seat, trying to get comfortable. It’s not freaking easy.
“You okay?” Angus stares at me.
“Fine,” I grunt.
“Why do you look like you’ve got ants in your pants?”
“My vagina was very well used last night. It’s… tender.” I smile.
“Ew.” Angus screws up his face at me.
“You asked.” I laugh.