Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Shopping is exhausting, but I did manage to get an evening gown for Saturday.
It took ten stores to find the right one.
Angus made up some emergency fire he had to put out and left after the third stop.
So I’ve spent most of the day alone, which is both a blessing and a curse because I’ve had way too much time to replay last night.
Not to mention with every dress I tried on, my first thought was what would Alfie think of it.
I’m pretty sure that’s why it took so long to finally choose one, because I was frustrated and annoyed at myself for caring what a man would think of my dress.
Sure, I want to look good. I want to turn heads.
What I’m not looking for is some guy’s approval.
I finally came to the conclusion that the reason I cared what Alfie thought of my dress was because I need him to be distracted Saturday night.
I need him to not notice when I approach the potential sellers.
Nope, instead, I want him to be dealing with a raging boner all night.
It’s probably wishful thinking. I’m not certain he’s that into me.
I mean, the man can literally have any woman he wants.
That dark hair, tanned skin. The six-pack he hides under those suits…
the little V he’s sporting that leads to one very impressive-looking cock.
Damn it! Now my mouth is watering at the memory.
I didn’t get to taste it. I really want to know what he tastes like.
Shit, these are not the thoughts I want or need to be having at the moment.
I’m meeting Angus for dinner. He wanted to brief me on his discussion with the team today. I’ve spent the last two hours catching up on emails and trying to not think about the man who left his mark all over my body.
Exiting the elevator, I turn left to head towards the restaurant. I make it ten steps through the lobby before I’m stopped.
“Miss Olive, how are you?” Mrs. Giuliani smiles politely at me. Otherwise known as the mother of the man I let fuck me six ways to Sunday last night. Shit.
“Oh, call me Molly please, Mrs. Giuliani,” I say. “I’m good. How are you?”
“Good, and it’s Charlotte. This is my husband, Louie.” She places her palm on her husband’s chest, and an older version of the face I stared at last night looks back at me.
“Mr. Giuliani,” he says in a firm tone, holding out his hand to me. “Miss Olive, are you in town for business or pleasure?”
I return the gesture, keeping my head held high. I do not cower to men. “Well, it’s Vegas, so a bit of both I guess.”
A small smile forms on his lips before he fixes his face back to that stony, blank expression. “Well, enjoy your night.” He nods at me.
“Louie, don’t be rude,” Mrs. Giuliani scolds before turning to me. “I’m sorry. My husband lacks people skills. Have you got dinner plans? We were just on our way to eat. You’re welcome to join us.”
At this, Mr. Giuliani frowns but keeps his mouth shut.
“Oh, that’s kind of you to offer, but I’m meeting my assistant for dinner. He’s made reservations.”
“He?” she asks.
“Yes.” I nod my head.
“Oh, that’s… interesting. I won’t hold you up. Enjoy your night, Molly.” She smiles and then lets her husband lead her away.
Interesting? What the hell does she mean by that? Nothing more awkward than running into the parents of a guy you just had a one-night stand with. This could literally only happen to me.
I make it to the restaurant twenty minutes early. Sitting at the bar, I order a glass of red wine and start people watching.
“Enjoying the show?” a deep voice with a Mexican accent comes from my left.
“The show?” I ask.
“People watching. This city is the best place to do it.” He smiles at me. He’s very good looking. Maybe this is what I need to get over my infatuation with the enemy, someone else to focus on.
“I’m Molly.” I turn my smile on the stranger.
“Elias,” he says. “What brings you to Vegas?”
“Business. You?”
“Well, I can’t say I’m disappointed to be the reason that you’re here.” He smirks.
“No, I mean, what brings you here?” I laugh.
“Business and family,” he answers. “What is it that you do?”
“Development. What do you do, Elias?” There’s something about him, a darkness that’s telling me I should be afraid. But my determination to forget Alfie is stronger than my fight-or-flight instincts at the moment.
“Family business, boring stuff really. But something tells me my night is about to get far more entertaining.” Elias smirks and looks out into the sea of people as if he’s waiting for someone.
“Waiting for someone?” I ask him aloud.
“Yeah, my cousin is bound to show up any minute now,” he says. “How long are you in town?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I admit.
Just as he’s about to say something else, the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I turn and see a very angry-looking Alfie Giuliani storming towards us.
“Friend of yours?” Elias asks.
“Not even in the slightest,” I murmur, which causes Elias to chuckle.
“Miss Olive, just the woman I’ve been looking for.” Alfie comes to a stop in front of me, his back to Elias.
“Oh, come on, Mr. Giuliani, we both know you’ve known exactly where I’ve been all day. Considering you’ve had me followed.” I smile and raise my glass to my lips.
Alfie blinks at me and then smirks. Leaning into my ear, he whispers, “Be a good girl, Molly, and go into the bathroom, remove your panties, and wait for me.” Then he straightens, and before I can respond, he turns around. “Elias, what the fuck are you doing in my casino?”
“Well, I was getting to know Miss Olive here before you rudely interrupted us, Alfie,” Elias says.
“You two know each other?” I ask them.
“The cousin I was waiting for,” Elias explains.
They’re cousins. Well, shit. And then it hits me.
Elias Lopez, the prince of a damn Mexican cartel if you believe the rumors.
Angus made me learn everything there was to know about the Giuliani family on the trip over, including who they were tied to.
I might not buy into what people say about them but I am not taking chances.
“If you’ll excuse me, my date is here,” I say, standing right as Angus walks into the restaurant.
Alfie spins his glare on me. He leans down again. “I don’t let other people play with my toys, Molly, so you might want to rephrase that.”
“Mol?” Angus says as he approaches the bar.
“Angus, you remember Mr. Giuliani. And this is his cousin, Elias Lopez.” I wave a hand towards Elias. He smirks at the mention of his last name. Yeah, I can look people up too, asshole. “Mr. Giuliani, you remember my assistant?”
“Angus.” Alfie nods at him. “Enjoy your meal.” Grabbing hold of Elias’s arm, he then leads him out of the restaurant.
“Well, that was…” Angus says, looking at me. “Why do you look flushed?”
“I… ah…” I’m peering around the restaurant, trying to find something to say, when I spot Alfie staring right at me. “I have to go to the restroom. Order me the steak, please,” I tell Angus while keeping my eyes on Alfie as I walk towards the bathroom.
I don’t know why I’m doing this. Yes, I do. It’s because the second I saw him—before he even opened his mouth—I wanted him. And once again, I like to get what I want.
I make sure no one else is in the restroom before I reach up under my skirt and pull my panties down my legs.
Just as I’m stepping out of them, the door swings open and I jump, only to have Alfie smirk at me.
Flicking the lock on the door, he stalks towards me and snatches the panties out of my hand.
“Such a good girl, Molly,” he says.
I’ve never been called that before. Never thought I would like those words as much as I seem to, but I can’t help but smile at his praise. It’s an odd feeling, one I’m not familiar with.
“Wh… what are you doing?” I ask him.
Alfie’s hand wraps around my throat, and he pushes me against the wall. “I’m going to make you come on my fingers, so when I’m bored working tonight, I can bring those fingers to my nose and remind myself what’s waiting upstairs for me.”
All I heard was he’s going to make me come. And I really want that. I’m so wet I can feel it coating my upper thighs. He does this to me. I might not like it, but I sure do love the way he makes me feel pleasure. It’s why I don’t argue when he pushes my panties into my mouth.
“Can’t have you screaming the place down.” He smirks as his fingers trail up my thigh, under my skirt.
My legs open wider, giving him all the access he needs. Alfie’s fingers reach my pussy, easily sliding through my folds.
“Fuck, you’re drenched,” he groans. “Is this for me, Molly? Or was it my cousin who got you so worked up?” His tone is harsh, almost as if he’s jealous. Which is a ridiculous notion.
I’m not sure how he expects me to answer. I have a mouth full of lace. I shake my head. This reaction is because of him. I might have briefly thought of finding another man to distract myself, but it wouldn’t have worked.
Alfie pushes two fingers into me. Deep, hard. My moans are muffled by lace, and his hand around my throat tightens, almost to the point of cutting off my air supply. I feel myself get wetter.
“You are fucking perfect,” Alfie says as he thrusts his fingers in and out of me faster. His lips press against my neck. Then I feel him bite down, and my knees buckle.
Holy shit, why the hell do I like this so much?
“Be a good girl and come for me, Molly,” he growls in my ear.
And that’s all it takes for my body to freeze up and pleasure to explode inside me.
“So fucking perfect.” Alfie removes the panties from my mouth and then his lips are on mine, his tongue swirling around. I’m still lost in my post-orgasmic bliss when he pulls away from me. “Enjoy your dinner,” he says, putting my panties in his pocket, unlocking the door, and walking out.
I wash my hands and splash water over my neck, and that’s when I notice the damn bite mark he left for everyone to see. Pulling my hair out of the ponytail, I cover that side of my neck and stroll out to the restaurant to find Angus.
“Tell me you didn’t just have sex in the restroom, Mol?” he blurts out.
“What?”
“Well, two minutes ago, I saw a very satisfied-looking Alfie Giuliani walk out of that same restroom you just came out of,” he states.
“I didn’t have sex. But can you blame me, really? If a man like that asked you to meet him in a restroom, are you telling me you wouldn’t?” I raise a brow at my friend.
Angus is bisexual, or as he likes to tell me, open to anything. Which is why I know the answer to that question without him having to say it.
“Oh, I absolutely would.” He laughs. “Good for you.” Angus raises his drink and waits for me to raise mine. “What happens in Vegas…” he says, as we clink our glasses together.