Katie
The server sets our plates down, and the steak in front of me looks like heaven. I look up, and Michael’s leaned back in his chair, whiskey in his hand, watching me the same way he has been all night. He’s relaxed and comfortable.
Something is off though. No one is staring outright, but I can feel it anyway.
The way people look over and quickly look away.
The way the staff moves around him like they don’t want to be the one who gets something wrong.
I get that he’s the CEO of Amato Operations.
I understand that, but this is more than that.
What are they so worried about? What’s he going to do if someone messes up?
Not tip them? The thought almost makes me smile, but I remember the conservatory.
His hand in my dress. The way Michael yelled at his employee.
The entire room shifted around it. Then last night him telling me he’d kill the man from the bar. It wasn’t a threat. It was a fact.
Then I think about how he was with my mom today, how he didn’t hesitate, and made everything easier.
I think about everything he does when it comes to me.
He holds me so gently when I sleep. He was so open with me about his childhood, and then today how he made everything so much easier with my mom.
That’s the version of him I know. That’s the one that matters. Not whatever this is.
He reaches across the table and takes my hand, his thumb brushing once over my knuckles.
“My other driver, Sal, is picking us up,” he says. “I’ve got someone taking your car back to your place.”
“Michael—“
“I’m drinking tonight,” he cuts me off, his eyes still on mine. “And I’m assuming you’ll want to when we get to the club.”
He’s not wrong.
“Okay,” I say.
“Good girl,” he says.
I yank my hand back. “You’re such an ass.”
He looks at me, still smiling. “And you like it.”
I do, but I refuse to admit it.
“How was your food?” he asks, leaning back again.
“You watched me eat it,” I mutter. “You already know.”
His mouth twitches. “You about ready to head out?”
I push my straw through the ice and take a long drink.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
He signals, and the server appears.
“We’ll take the check.”
“Yes, Mr. Amato,” she says quickly, almost bowing before she rushes off.
I lean across the table, tilting my head. “It’s kind of crazy.”
His eyes shift to mine. “What is?”
“The way she looks at you.” I tap my straw against the rim of my glass. “You could ask her for a blow job right now, and she’d probably thank you for it.”
He doesn’t hesitate.
“I’ll wait until you give me one.”
The laugh hits me before I can stop it. I press my hand to my mouth, but it doesn’t help. He breaks a second later, head tipping forward, a laugh ripping out of him that turns heads.
“Mr. Amato, is everything okay?”
I look up, and a man in a suit stands at our table.
Michael clears his throat, still smiling. “Yes. Everything is fine.”
“Good. Good. How was your dinner tonight? The service?” His eyes move to me briefly before returning to Michael.
“Everything was wonderful.”
“That is wonderful to hear. You know how much we value you and your opinion.”
Michael glances at me, that little grin still there. “Charles, I’d like to introduce you to my girlfriend, Katie.”
Charles’s eyes widen slightly.
“Katie,” Michael says, turning his head toward me, “Charles is the owner of Dominico’s.”
I look back at him.
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“Miss Katie,” Charles says, giving me a respectful nod, “it’s truly a pleasure to have you with us this evening. I hope everything was to your liking.”
“It was. Thank you.”
“I’m very glad to hear that,” he says, and then his attention shifts right back to Michael. “If there is anything else we can do for you this evening, sir, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”
Michael nods and turns back to me. Charles hesitates, then leaves.
“That was weird,” I whisper, laughing under my breath.
“They’ve all got sticks up their asses.” He leans in, smiling, and whispers, “Laughing is forbidden.”
“How’d you get away with it then?” I grin.
“I’m Michael Amato. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
He says it with a smile, but I know he’s not joking.
“Sal,” Michael says to the man standing next to the black SUV when we step outside of Dominico’s.
“Evening, Boss. Miss Miller.” He bows his head in my direction and holds the door open for us.
“Oh, hi.”
Michael offers me his hand as I step into the back seat. I take it and slide over. He gets in beside me, close enough that our thighs press together.
He leans across me, his hand braced near my hip as he reaches for the seatbelt. His arm moves across my chest, brushing my breast more firmly than necessary, sending a spark through me before he pulls the belt over my shoulder and clicks it into place.
“Really?”
He smiles. “I like taking care of you.”
My body reacts instantly—a warm ache building between my legs. I want his hands back on me, exploring further, but he leans back against the seat.
“Boss, where are we headed?” Sal asks.
Michael’s already watching me. I lean forward.
“Voltage. It’s a club.”
“Got it.” The screen goes up.
I turn back to him, shifting as close as the seat belt allows.
“Hi.”
His hand is on my leg instantly. “You’re playing with me.”
I smile. “You like it.”
My fingers slide into his hair at the base of his neck. My other hand presses into his thigh. I lean in and bite his ear.
He growls, his grip tightening hard enough to make me catch my breath, but I don’t back off. I smile against his skin.
“Doll, you’re asking for trouble.”
“Am I?” I murmur against his ear.
That’s all it takes. His hand comes up fast, wrapping around my throat. Not tight, but enough that it steals a breath from me. It’s enough that I feel it everywhere.
My eyes snap to his. He’s not playing anymore.
“What are you gonna do?” I ask.
His thumb brushes my lip, dragging it down a little. He eases my mouth open because he already knows I won’t stop him.
I swallow, and his eyes flicker. He feels it. His thumb slides into my mouth, and he watches me take it.
“Such a pretty little mouth. I wonder how I could fill it?”
My eyes go wide, and I look at him. No one has ever talked to me this way, and instead of backing off, I want more of it.
I’ve never even sucked a cock. Not once, but right now if he told me to, I’d be on my knees before he finished asking. I don’t give a fuck.
His hand leaves my throat, and I almost chase it. Then it glides down over my chest, over my sheer black top under my jean jacket, pressing through the fabric. His fingers trace the edge of my bra and keep going. I breathe in and don’t stop him.
“Doll, what would I find if I kept going? Would you already be wet for me?”
Yes, the fuck I would be.