Chapter Thirteen
Hayes
T he drive home is so quiet the only sound is from my car’s engine.
Lose Control by Teddy Swims plays on the radio and my eyes continue catching sneaks at Olivia’s thigh every time the streetlights hit them when we pass one.
Her head looks out the window for most of the ride and my thoughts invade my mind with images of what I would like to do to her when I get her alone in my home.
Cut the shit, Ricci. We don’t mix business with pleasure.
You are The King of The Underworld; you must remain focused on the task at hand . I remind myself when I pull up to the front gates of my estate.
Olivia finally looks up from the window and toward my side when I lean out to put in the code for the gate.
“Fancy.” she smirks.
I grin. “Can’t be too careful these days.”
She remains quiet and I pull the car to the front of the house.
She has the door open before I am fully stopped.
Anger rips through me so fast that I don’t even realize when I start pulling her by the waist to sit back down in her seat.
She gasps, “What?”
“You wait on me to open the door.” I tell her sternly.
“I am not your property, Hayes. I don’t have to wait on you to do a damn thing.” she huffs at me.
My eyebrow hitches. “Someone’s gotten mouthy since being around a new group of girls this week.”
She folds her arms. “Well, what do you expect when you have me working around a bunch of pigs that come in offering me money to sleep with them?”
My fist clenches, “Who has offered you money, Olivia? You work at the bar. They know for those kinds of perks they have to see the dancers and sign contracts.”
Her eyes leave mine and look down in embarrassment. “I- I don’t remember their name. They said they were just joking but they wouldn’t stop. Jessica finally got them to leave me alone. I think some of your security finally escorted them out.”
I make a mental note to ask Alan or Ben about the incident. If anything happens in my club they know to tell me about it. It’s odd that I did not know this happened.
“Next time someone makes you uncomfortable . . .” I start, lifting her chin so her eyes meet mine, “You come get me and I’ll handle it.”
“Hayes?” she says.
“Mhm . . .” I whisper, but my eyes are locked on her lips.
“What do I do when you are making me uncomfortable?” she asks, and I immediately come back to reality and remove my hand quickly.
“The men who have memberships at my club know better than to harass my workers. I’ve revoked hundreds of memberships for it happening in the past. I can even out them to the public when it happens. So, I am thinking this may not have been men who are welcome on my property.” I tell her truthfully.
Her eyes widen. “You think its Frances’ men?”
I nod, but stay silent, turning the car off and getting out, thankful she actually stayed inside the car and let me open her door this time. “Good girl.” I tell her with a smirk as she grabs my hand helping her out of the car.
“I don’t think you really gave me a choice,” she grins walking past me toward the front door.
Pulling out my key, I unlock the entrance to my home and gesture for her to step inside. Her heels click on the tile floor, and I undo my tie as I close the door behind me.
“Hungry?” I ask her.
“Starving,” she answers, taking her heels off and leaving them by the front door. A light bulb goes off in her mind and she says, “Oh. I don’t have clothes.”
I ignore her na?ve comment and start walking into the kitchen, “Yes you do. Alan is going to bring you some in the morning. You can sleep in one of my t-shirts tonight.”
“No pleasure with business, huh?” She raises an eyebrow.
I ignore her again, frankly because I am going against my rules even having her here tonight much less her wearing my clothes.
But something has happened; this woman makes me want to abandon every rule I have ever made and just allow my wants to take over.
Walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge, I take a peak inside to see if Maria has left anything in the fridge.
Olivia laughs watching me and I scowl at her, “What is so funny?”
“Let me guess. The King has never cooked for himself before?” She walks over to the fridge and pulls out the eggs, milk, and starts going through cabinets pulling out flour and bowls.
“What are you doing?” I ask, intrigued.
“Making pancakes,” she exclaims nonchalantly.
I take off my sports jacket and throw it across the kitchen table, unbuttoning my button up shirt sleeves and roll them up.
“Alright, chef. Put me to work.”
***
Olivia
I WATCH AS HIS ROSE tattooed hand grabs the whisk and mixes the ingredients I put into the mixing bowl. Something is ironically funny about a six-foot tall alpha man, covered in tattoos, who calls himself a King cooking for himself in his kitchen at two o clock in the morning.
Reaching for the straps behind my back, I try my luck at removing my angel wings. After a moment’s struggle, I finally succeed and lay them over by his sports coat on the kitchen table.
“You are doing such a good job,” I say, playfully batting my eyes at Hayes.
He huffs, “I need to give Maria a raise if she does this for me all day long. Damn this is a lot of work.”
I roll my eyes, “Hayes, you are legit just mixing ingredients. A toddler could do this.”
He gives me a death stare.
“Okay, all mixed. Now what?” he asks me.
“Now I get to teach you how to flip them.” I smirk.
We sit at the kitchen bar on our own barstools eating our fluffy pancakes that taste good given how sleep deprived I am right now.
Thankfully, we found some syrup in the pantry.
“Okay, clean up time,” I tell Hayes, standing as soon as our plates are empty.
“Leave it. I’m tired and Maria can clean it in the morning when she gets here,” he tells me.
I put my hands on my hips, “No sir. You made the mess, you can clean it.”
He looks at me— appalled.
“You know, no one has ever dared to speak to me the way you do,” he growls, leaning in closer to me. “And I thought I told you earlier that mouth will get you in trouble.”
I gulp while trying to decide if I should poke the bear even more.
Pushing back from him and hopping off my seat, I grab my plate and walk over to the kitchen sink trying to put some space between us. If I hang around much longer, I may just let him put me in time out.
“Fine be an asshole.” I turn away from him, washing my plate.
After a moment that felt like an eternity, I hear his bar stool move and I feel his presence come up behind me. He puts his plate in the sink, and leans down next to my ear, “My mother would have loved you.”
I have to catch myself before my knees drop me to the floor, but the man looks unfazed as he picks up the wash cloth I just dropped and starts cleaning his plate and the dishes we cooked with.
Grabbing the paper towels, I peel a piece off the rack and wipe down the bar, so Maria doesn’t have to clean it when she arrives in a few hours.
Once we are both done, Hayes says, “You are welcome to sleep in my bed tonight.”
I look at him, trying not to smile. “I did love those sheets.”
He chuckles, “Good because I don’t feel like making the bed in the spare bedroom.”
I throw my head back in a horse laugh before I say, “I’m shocked you even know how.”
Now he looks embarrassed. “I don’t.”