Chapter 3 #2
Under the fluorescent light of the hallway, I practically fall to my fucking knees and start to praise God. Her thick ass fills out a pleated schoolgirl skirt, paired with white thigh-high socks and those crazy pink shoes. If it wasn't so fucking sexy, it would be hilarious.
She's trying to kill me.
I've known this girl for three minutes, and my heart is about to clench up and drop me right here.
Allister steps out of his office, right into our path, and May stops in her tracks when she sees him.
"Wow," she breathes, and for the first time in our entire friendship, I fucking hate him.
"Hi." Allister looks from her to me, pushing out his bottom lip.
I've never brought a girl down here unless they were already working here, and he knows it.
My office is off limits unless you're in trouble.
We have a conference room for meetings and shit.
If the staff need to talk to me, they don't come knocking on my office door.
That's my space. Call it OCD, but I don't want just anyone in there.
"Move," I growl as I place my hand on the small of her back and guide her around Allister. Just the brush of my fingertips against her sets my blood on fire. One word pulses in my head.
Mine .
"Need any help there, boss?" he chides from behind.
"Fine."
"Wow, you guys are big around here." May looks at Allister, then up at me, and just how tiny she is next to me hits me all at once.
Six-five doesn't fit in her world. I could carry her around like a doll on my hip.
I'm not a muscle-bound gym rat, but I'm built.
I've got solid thick muscle up top, and I'm leaner on the bottom, but I'm still imposing, especially when you are snack-sized like her.
"Right here." I motion to my office door, punching my code into the keypad lock, and the door snaps open.
"High tech." She smiles and nods at me. "I'm impressed." She steps into the office as I follow, shutting the door behind us. "This isn't anything like I thought a strip club would be. It's super clean, for a start." She spins in a slow circle, looking around my office, wide-eyed.
Stark, cold. Institutional. It's the way I've always been. Or the Marines did it to me. I don't really remember anymore.
"You've never seen a code lock before? And, this isn't a strip club. No one strips here." The way she talks, the clothes, this na?ve sweetness. There’s a story here, and I want every chapter of it.
"I don't get out much." She does this little shoulder shrug.
What you see is what you get with her. No pretense. No embarrassment.
I step into her space. Her eyes widen, but she doesn't pull away when I put my hands on her cheeks, lean down, and devour her mouth with mine.
She doesn't kiss me back, but she doesn't push me away either. My tongue slices between her lips, and the ground shakes when she softens under me, and I taste her for the first time.
Her taste sears into me, marking me as I mark her. My fingers settle on the back of her neck, warmth growing under my palm. I let out a low groan and pull back, staring down at her.
"Was that part of the interview?" Her matter-of-fact question has me reeling.
"No. You're already hired. That was something else."
The look of shock, the thrill on her face... Christ. My balls ache like they never have. They want to empty into her until the whole world knows who she belongs to.
"Great! So, what time do I need to be here, and what time will I get off work? I need to check the bus schedule."
It's hard to believe a girl like her takes the bus, but before I can decide my next move, there's a knock on the door.
"Go away," I grunt as I drop my hands from her.
My eyes stay pinned on May as her fingers come up to dance on her parted lips, her eyes dragging toward the door. She scoots one foot forward and back, tapping it, and I swear her eyes are glowing.
"It's Cindy." A voice cuts through the solid steel door.
Fuck.
Cindy is one of the managers here. She's also sort of the den mother who takes care of a lot of the girls when they are having problems. She came up through one of my first clubs.
Before I took her in, she was addicted to crack, turning tricks just to get the cash.
I took her off the street, and now she is in charge of nearly forty girls, and she keeps the wheels turning around here.
"Come in," I grumble, pissed off that someone is bothering me in my office without calling first and interrupting this… this what? I shake my head.
This defining fucking moment between me and my May.
My May ? I'm fucking gone over this little thing, and I don't even know her last name.
The soft beeps of the code lock. Cindy has her own entry code, but she knows never to come in without knocking. I don't like people coming to my office, so I'm surprised as fuck that she's knocking my door down right now. It must be important.
"Excuse me, May. This will only take a moment. Why don't you have a seat?" I point to one of the plush, cream-velvet chairs in front of my new desk.
She lets out this little peep of agreement as she turns and tosses her jacket over the back of a chair. It looks smooth until she misses, and it crumples to the floor with a little psfffft sound.
She leaves it there, sits down in the other chair, and points her toes together, settling her hands in her lap, and I swear she's humming Rick James' "Super Freak".