“Where are you going?” he demands, like I just screwed him out of five hundred bucks or a trip to Paris or something.
I open and shut my mouth trying to figure out if I’m going to tell the truth or fib again. I guess the jig is up.
I try to pull my arm away from him, but he hangs on. “I really have to go.”
“I bought you two drinks,” he accuses. Apparently, I owe him my firstborn child now.
“That was your choice. I didn’t ask you to. In fact, I tried to refuse the second one. Now let go.” I yank harder. This guy is going to leave finger bruises on my arm.
“Bullshit, I heard you telling your friend you wanted a sugar daddy.”
I’m not having this conversation. “Let go of me.”
If anything, he squeezes tighter. I’m about to make a scene in hopes the bouncer at the door will notice and throw this guy out when a different hero shows up to save the day. A very well-dressed Italian hero.
“Let go of her.” The guy seizes Jayden by the throat and shoves him up against the wall. Jayden lets go and stays pinned there, the side of his face mashed against the plaster.
“This guy bothering you?” my rescuer growls in a gruff, gravelly rumble. He’s an extremely hot, older man with a commanding presence. One of the owners, then.
A mob boss.
The good girl, the nice girl in me would say no. Because complaining about people isn’t polite. But I’m way too pissed. I rub the red marks on my arm where he held me. “Yeah.”
My rescuer turns his attention to Jayden. “When a woman says no, you back the fuck off. Capisce?”
“Is there a problem, Mr. Manghini?” Now the bouncer appears. He’s just as beefy and tattooed as Leo, but it’s the mob bossMr. Manghiniwho still seems to be the most dangerous man in the room.
“You need me to give you a lesson in manners?” Mr. Manghini asks. When Jayden doesn’t answer, he shakes him by the throat. “Huh?”
“No.” Jayden still sounds petulant, but his face is turning red from lack of oxygen, so I do think he’s getting the message.
Mr. Manghini snorts and releases my stalker, shoving him at the bouncer. “Throw him out. He was assaulting a customer.” Then he holds up a hand and looks to me. “Unless you want to file charges?”
I’m shaky all over, but other than bruises on my arm, fine. “No.” I start to say, “It’s okay,” but bite my tongue. It’s not okay. Why would I even say that?
The bouncer hauls Jayden away and throws him out the back door, and Mr. Manghini gently slides his palm over the skin I’m rubbing. His fingers are large. They look strong. I’ll bet he could’ve choked the life out of Jayden with just that one hand if he wanted.
For some reason, I find myself wondering what else he can do with those hands. What it would be like to have those commanding hands on my body in an altogether different way.
“You’re hurt.” His warm brown gaze circles my face. He smells like scotch and cigars, but it’s not unpleasant. “And you’re shaking. I’m sorry that happened to you here. Let me get you a drink to calm your nerves.”
You’d think after what just happened, I’d never let another man buy me a drink, but there’s something completely different about this guy’s vibes. Somehow I’m sure that he wouldn’t be douchy enough to think a drink buys him sex, and he obviously believes no means no. “Thanks, I…” I nod my head. “I’d like that.”
“I’m Bobby.” He extends a hand.
“Lexi.” I place my hand in his, which is warm and strong. In fact, that’s the energy he radiateswarm strength. To me, anyway. To Jayden, it was hard and cold. Ruthless, even. Bobby stands at least six feet tall, with broad shoulders perfectly draped in an Armani suit. I would guess him to be in his mid to late forties, with a strong jaw and aquiline nose. Dark eyes with lashes that curl.
He lightly touches my back to guide me back toward the bar.
The door that leads to the private lounge swings open. “Bobby, you coming back?” another man in a suit calls from the door.
“No.” Bobby doesn’t look away from me when he says it.
It’s a weird feeling to have someone’s full and complete attention. I try to sort out why it seems different from the attention Jayden gave me back at the bar. Jayden’s attention felt intrusive, whereas this guy’s makes me tingle all over. Like my cells are coming alive just from being in his presence.
“Are you the owner?” I ask as he escorts me through the clogged hallway that leads to the bar area.
“Nah, it’s my cousin’s place. My company built the building, though.”
“Ah. Too bad, I was going to ask for a job.” I adjust my purse strap on my shoulder.
His brows pop. “Yeah? You need a job, doll?” Again his scrutiny is intense. It’s not sexual, but my body responds sexually. Heat pools between my legs. My nipples harden and tingle.
“A second job,” I admit. “I have a day job, but I’d love to pick up a few evening or weekend shifts to get by.”
Stan comes over. “Another mule?”
“Yeah. Sorry, I left that last one.”
“What can I get you, Mr. Manghini?”
“Glen Livet on the rocks,” Gina answers for him, appearing beside us. “This is the guy I was telling you about.” She bumps my hips with hers, and I want the earth to open up and swallow me.
“Yeah?” Bobby searches my face, then hers. “What did you say?”
“I just wanted you two to meet.” Gina’s smile is mischievous. I imagine she thinks of herself as the Sugar Daddy Cupid.
Is there such a thing? There totally should be.
“I feel like you two might hit it off.”
Clearly, Bobby doesn’t fall for bullshit because he narrows his eyes and cocks his head. “No, really.”
“Lexi needs a sugar daddy.”
“Oh my God.” I clap a hand over my eyes like if I can’t see Bobby, he can’t see me. “I’m going to go jump off a tall building.”
Bobby pries my fingers off my face. “You want a sugar daddy?” He looks amused.
“I didn’t say that. This is all Gina’s fantasy. I asked for a jobremember?”
His smile is warm. “I might be in the market for that situation.”
Situation. I gasp when I suddenly realize what this is. “Oh no.” I shake my head and take a step back. “I don’t date married guys.”
He holds up the back of his left hand to show me there’s no ring. “Not married. I did that once. I’m not doing it again.”
“Oh.” I’m breathing hard like we’re walking fast, even though we’re standing still. “I’m not a prostitute,” I blurt the next fear that comes to my mind.
His lips quirk. “I didn’t think you were.” He hands me my drink when it arrives. He’s still considering me. “Sounds like you just need someone to spoil you a little. Is that right, doll?”
Spoil me.
Literally, no one has ever spoiled me in my entire life. I’ve dated players and cheaters. They cared more about themselves and what I could do for them than vice versa.
I’m not saying I’ve bought into this idea of Gina’s to pimp myself out for a sugar daddy, but the idea is definitely growing on me. Especially, or maybe only, because Bobby is the man in question.
Not that I think he would even want me. I mean, I don’t know how this works. Is there a sign-up sheet somewhere? A way to put my name in for the position? Maybe he requires a resume outlining my best features. Recommendations, perhaps, from a past lover. Something like, Gives great head, but a little needy.
I realize he’s waiting for an answer. I lick my lips. “Yeah, maybe,” I admit. Oh God. I must be blushing. My face feels about fifty degrees too hot.
“That’s definitely what she needs,” Gina vouches for me. Way to lay it right out there, girl. She sure isn’t one to beat around the bush.
“And Lexi’s amazing. A good person. No drama. Would do anything for a friend. She’s a very talented hairstylist, too.”
“I’m not sure those are the qualities he’s looking for in, um, his…whatever,” I mumble.
Bobby chuckles.
He pulls a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket and offers it to the person who has taken the bar stool I occupied earlier. “Your drinks are on me if you give the lady your seat,” he says.
I try to deny how pleasurable it is to have this guy focused on taking care of me. How long has it been since someoneanyonehas looked after me?
Oh yeah, never. My mom worked twelve-hour shifts as a nurse when I was growing up, so my sister and I were latch-key kids. My dad lived in Pittsburgh, so we weren’t with him all that much, and even then, he lived with his girlfriend and her kids, so his focus was on them.
The guy grabs the twenty and vacates the seat, and Bobby puts his hands on my waist and lifts me onto it. When I’m settled, he keeps his hands there and gives me a wink. I feel it in my core, my belly fluttering, the muscles of my pelvic floor lifting. Okay, wow. I’m definitely feeling a connection.
Gina takes her tray of drinks and disappears with a smirk.
Bobby’s gaze snags on the reddened marks on my arm from Jayden’s fingers, and he scowls, brushing the backs of his fingers over my skin again. “I should’ve killed that guy for touching you.”
A shiver runs across my skin because I suspect he means it. That he’s murdered before.
I should be scared. Or at least put-off. Civilized men don’t resort to violence.
But I’m not.
I’m turned on.