Chapter Six #2
“Today, he…” She gets a worried, faraway look on her face and pauses. I suspect I won’t get the full story, though I’d like to know it. I wonder if it has anything to do with Carlisle’s visit. “He’s not feeling so well today, so he stayed home, and I’m here managing things.”
I shake my head. “Interesting.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her defiant tone stirs something within me. Part of me wants to challenge her on it. See if she’d use such a tone on me if she knew who I was. “Despite how I might look, I’m usually not so clumsy. I’m more than capable of running the diner.”
“If you say so.” I smile. “In the world we live in, I can’t imagine you feel safe alone here.”
How can she, with people like me able to wander in?
It’s no wonder this place is going downhill.
Her face pales, and it seems like her mind flashes back to something unpleasant. I want to ask her about the memory, make her so scared that she realizes how dangerous I am. But that’s not why I’m here today.
“I can protect myself,” she retorts. “The real question is what are you doing in this danky old diner by yourself? You don’t quite fit in. Something about you is just…” she pauses and looks outside at my car.
It’s a good thing she noticed. I don’t want to come across as someone who might eat here.
I shrug and take a step away, as much for her peace of mind as mine. “I’ve heard a thing or two about this place.”
London raises an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“That’s for me to know.”
“You’re in my diner.”
“Your father’s diner, and should you continue to talk to me like that, I’ll…”
“You’ll what?!”
She looks up. London is the first person to challenge me in a long time. That would normally frustrate me, but right now, it’s exhilarating, especially since she doesn’t have a clue who I am.
If she did, she’d probably hate me.
Our eyes meet and something happens. There’s an undeniable charge in the air between us, and the way her eyes light up, I know she feels it, too. She shifts uncomfortably under the heat but doesn’t look away.
Neither can I.
I think of touching her all over. Grabbing her ass and her breasts, trailing my fingertips all over her soft skin, exploring every single inch of her.
I visualize pushing her up against the bar, holding her in place as she cries out in pain and pleasure. She gives into my whims and my control, and she loves it. I imagine railing her right on the counter, making her scream my name, and…
Get a fucking grip.
I can’t allow my mind to wander like that. The person I’m here to do business with isn’t even here right now, so I should just leave before I get wrapped up any further.
I know better than to act on my instincts with an innocent girl who wouldn’t be able to take anything I throw at her. She is young and na?ve, and that’s not right for me. Physically, she’s just my type, but I need to leave her alone.
Because I can’t imagine getting involved with the diner owner’s daughter would end well.
Not when I’m trying to take the place over for my own personal gain.
Still, the thought of her on her knees is something I can’t get out of my mind. I imagine her looking up at me with those doe eyes, and…
Fuck.
If I stay here any longer, I don’t know if I can control myself.
“I’d better get going.” She looks surprised as I take out my wallet and throw some money on the counter. A tip for her service. She’s done more for me than she knows.
“Wait!” she calls out as I walk away. “Don’t you want to order something? I’m sure you didn’t come in just to help me after a fall.” Her eyes scream that she’s not quite ready for me to leave.
I turn around and leave without another word, shaking the thoughts of her that don’t want to go away.
***
Meet me in my playroom.
Katia will know what I mean and what I want. I feel my phone vibrate seconds after I put it back in my pocket. I don’t need to read her response to know she’ll be there, on her knees, waiting for my commands and pleasing me in every way imaginable.
She’s the distraction I need right now.
The entire car ride home, the blonde lingered on my mind. I’ve seen plenty of attractive women, and had my fair share of them, but none grabbed my attention quite like her.
Her hold on me is irritating, especially considering her precarious position in the diner.
She doesn’t have any idea she’s going to be out of a job soon.
I shake my head, pushing away all thoughts of the impending acquisition and focusing instead on thoughts of London.
On her hands and knees with her perfectly round, plump lips wrapped around me.
London with her back turned to me, and her ass on display.
I replay a scenario over and over. I picture the look of rage on her face once she finds out who I am. I feel her fire as she’s overwhelmed by fury and pounding her fists against my chest before I take her, embracing her and telling her to ride me until she feels better.
I picture her on the table in the diner, looking at me with innocent eyes. I’m sure she’s had sex, but she’s never experienced what I can offer her.
I still see those beautiful eyes, light and warm, and the way her hair falls gently over them.
What is happening to me? I’m not usually this distracted by women. I’m not sure what it is, but something is getting under my skin.
I need Katia, a woman who knows how to please a man like me.
I keep my head down and ignore everyone else as I walk to my playroom. The tight set of my shoulders, and the purse of my lips is enough to keep everyone well enough away.
I don’t feel better until I unlock the door that only one other person has the key to and let myself into my playroom. I turn on the lights, but they barely make a difference. It’s dark in here, just as I designed it to be.
Black walls paired and a black tile floor give the room the ambiance I’m looking for and make for an easier cleanup after the kinds of messes I love to orchestrate.
Toys are hung on the walls, a wide range of whips, gags, paddles, crops, lingerie, and more.
An elaborate swing sits in one corner waiting to be used, my latest addition to the fun.
The main attraction is in the middle of the room.
A huge four-poster bed with an ornate black bed frame with black and red coverings over it.
I sit on the black velvet bench by the bed and burrow my hands in my sandy brown hair.
I know my gray eyes will reveal too much if I allow the thoughts of London to persist, so I have to stop them before Katia arrives.
Jealousy can look sexy on women, but Katia is a little too wild for that to be fun.
Lately, I’ve even wondered if she’s a bit more than I can handle. I’ll never want anything with her that’s more than our physical relationship, but lately, I’ve caught her staring at me with a twinkle in her eyes.
How much longer can I pretend she’s not in love with me?
Katia will do as I say, but I doubt she’d be happy knowing that I’m thinking of another woman while I’m with her. Still, I can’t get London out of my mind. My inner demons circle in my head, dancing in a ceaseless chant that echoes her name.
Would she have done as I demanded, or would she have fought me tooth and nail until I forced her to submit? What would she feel like? Warm, wet and tight just like I imagine? What would her body look like once her clothes were off? Soft and plump? I’m sure no man has fully explored her.
I can’t allow myself to linger on the idea. Yet I haven’t felt this kind of need for a woman in ages. I’ve gotten so used to having whatever I want that not being able to possess her is driving me crazy.
I need to correct myself quickly. This reminds me too much of the last time I felt this twisted desire. That time when I took over a church building.
My eyes close as I lean back against the bed.
***
There aren’t many things in this world that can make me feel bad. According to my father, there shouldn’t even be one, especially in our line of work. But I felt bad about this.
It felt wrong from the start. The uncomfortableness sets in as I pull into the church parking lot. Churches don’t make me feel anything out of the ordinary. This will be the first one I’ve taken over, but it’s not setting me up to be a bad guy. Personally, I don’t think churches are all that holy.
Maybe that’s something I’ve gotten from my father, who raised me to be a ruthless killer capable of securing his kingdom. Nothing could be harder to swallow than the lessons he used to shape me into the son he wanted me to be…
They still give me nightmares sometimes. I’ve gotten used to the violence, blood, death, and terror I can invoke in people. But those early days stay on my mind; the days when I was still innocent and kind. I can’t outrun them. They’ve made me who I am.
To properly inflict pain, I had to first learn what pain was and feel it for myself. I had to be subjected to all the things he wanted me to do to everyone else. It desensitized me to what’s normal.
Holy places hold nothing for me. No safety or redemption. They are like any other place.
It still feels strange. The church looks innocent with its freshly painted white walls and stained-glass windows. The pastor borrowed money for these renovations, hoping it would bring in a bigger congregation.
A money-hungry pastor is nothing new.
I walk inside and take in the rows of pews across a red carpet with lots of gold finishings.
This church is particularly flawed. I’ve heard things about it, and if I were the holy type, this isn’t a congregation I’d want to be a member of, especially with all the pastor’s shady dealings.
I saw him once at Mercy, and that is the least of his sins.
The hypocrite is bent in prayer as I silently approach him. It’s only when I’m standing right beside him that I make my presence known. I clear my throat, and he glances up at me, his eyes widening in terror.
“Please,” he begs as he stands. “The congregation is getting bigger. There’s more money offered each week. I’ll have your payment, I just…”