Chapter 6
Six
ROME
Icouldn’t stand watching her through the screens anymore, so I came down to the lounge to see her in person. I needed to get closer to her, to be in her orbit. To see if the attraction was just as strong when she’s mere feet away from me as it was through the video feed.
It’s stronger.
When I sat down, I made it clear to Rita that I wanted to observe without the new woman being made aware that I’m her boss. Of course, Rita didn’t bat an eye. She’s been with me a long time and is used to my odd requests.
My firefly was gorgeous on screen, but she’s absolute perfection in person. Her curves have drawn the eye of every man in this lounge. Any one of them would haul her into a privacy room to fuck her if given the chance.
I want to pull my gun from the small of my back and shoot every one of them.
Yet I can’t blame them for it. As she bustles back and forth behind the bar, that orange top sways and lifts, giving me a small glimpse of her soft skin.
It’s late enough in the evening now that most members have moved from the lounge into the playroom, so the bar is slowing down. My firefly laughs at something Max says, and he pats her on the back.
Touch her again, and you’ll lose your hand, Max.
She returns my way and flashes me that bright smile.
Her eyes are green with flecks of gold. Her lipstick is long gone, but her lips are plump and pink and beg to be wrapped around my cock.
She’s twisted her hair up into a messy bun that none of my employees would ever wear on the job, but it looks perfect on her.
“I’m Lulu,” she says with a smile as she approaches. That smile brings light into my cold, dead heart. “Can I get you another?”
I nod. I never drink more than one when I’m here, but I want to watch her make my drink.
“You got it. What’s your name?”
“Rome,” I reply, and she nods as she takes my empty tumbler and sets it in the sink, then reaches for a clean one.
Before I can say anything else, she turns and reaches above her head for a bottle on a top shelf, granting another view of her gorgeous fucking—
Bruises. New and old, marking her entire rib cage. What the fuck? Is that a scar on her lower back?
Before I can question it, I’m off my stool and behind the bar. Lulu startles, glancing around in alarm, those green eyes wide, while backing away from me.
“Stop.” My voice is hard, and she stops moving, but her face is full of fear now, and that pisses me off almost as much as the bruises. I don’t want her to fear me. “What happened to your ribs?”
She frowns, and suddenly, Rita’s by her side, patting her on the arm as if to comfort her.
“Wh-what?” Lulu asks.
“The bruises,” I say again.
“Oh.” Lulu frowns and then cringes. “I’m sorry, I’m sure that’s not something any of the customers want to see. Don’t worry about me, I’m making you that drink now.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the drink,” I reply and step closer. “I want you to answer me.”
“This is Rom—" Rita says, and I shake my head, cutting her off. “It’s okay, girl. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Lulu’s mouth opens, and she licks her lips.
I shake my head once, losing my patience. “How. Did you get. The bruises?”
“I was mugged this morning,” she replies, her voice full of disdain. “Got a little roughed up, but I’m okay.”
“Are you in pain?”
“No, I—”
“Don’t lie to me.”
She blinks at my hard tone but then offers me a small smile and reaches out to touch my arm.
Rita’s eyes widen because she knows I don’t like to be touched, but Lulu’s touch—somehow—calms my rage-fueled heart.
“I mean, I’m sore, but I’ve had worse. Really, it’s okay. Take a seat, and I’ll make your drink.”
When she pulls her hand away, it’s like the sun going behind a cloud, leaving a chill behind, but rather than reach for her and pull her against me, I return to my seat, watching her with a more critical eye.
She’s cheerful, smiling, and hasn’t slowed down in the few hours she’s been behind the bar, but I can see fatigue in her eyes. And I fucking hate that someone bruised her. That someone had the audacity to lay a hand on her.
My firefly resumes making the drink and slides it over to me with her confident smile back in place.
“Here you go,” she says.
“How long have you been a bartender?” I ask her.
“If I’m being honest?”
“Always.”
She chews that plump bottom lip, and my cock stirs. “Not long. But I took a mixology class for almost a year and loved every second of it. There’s a lot of science that goes into a good drink.”
“So you enjoy science, then?”
“Not really.”
She blinks in surprise when my lips kick up in a grin.
“I mean, I never liked science in school, but I like unexpected things, and it surprised me that alcohol isn’t just beer and frat parties, you know?”
I tip my head to the side, watching her. “Fascinating.”
“Exactly.” She twists to take an order, and she must move too fast because I catch the wince from the pain in her ribs. I don’t like that.
I don’t like it one fucking bit.