by Rye Hart
“Or your body.” She flashed me a wink, and I blushed.
“Yeah, at this point, it’s going to take a miracle, and unless one walks through that door, I’m screwed.” I heard the bells on the front entrance jingle, and Lindy let loose a laugh as she passed by on her way behind the counter.
“They’re all yours.” She gestured that way.
I glanced up and did a double-take as two of the most handsome men I’d ever seen walked through the door and took a seat at the closest booth. They were both the same height, but that’s where the similarities ended. One was a beautiful blond, who looked like he could model for the cover of a surfing magazine, his hair was to his chin, and his five o’clock shadowed face had soft features.
The other was a bit more mysterious, with piercing blue eyes, chiseled features, and a regal look like some kind of fairytale prince. His eyes met mine across the room, and the intimidating glare sent my pulse racing. He was no prince. Perhaps he would be the villain? He lifted his hand to wave me over, but I was already on my way, taking my order book out of my pocket.
“Yes? What can I get you?” I poised my pen and waited for him to speak, but his friend cleared his throat, and when I looked his way, he looked offended.
“Yeah, what’s the soup of the day?” asked the fair-haired one.
“It’s tomato, and that comes with toast.” I forced a friendly smile, though something about his tone grated my nerves.
The guy made a face. “What other soups do you have?”
“Baked potato, bean, and vegetable.”
“And sandwiches? Could I get a soup and sandwich?”
“What kind would you like?” I placed my hand on my hip as he gave me a blank stare.
“That’s what I’m asking.” He looked across the table at his buddy who was shaking his head.
The dark prince passed his menu across the table to his friend. “Here, see if mine reads any clearer for you.” He turned his eyes up to me, and his gaze trailed down my body as if I might be on the menu. “I’ll have the waffles and maple bacon with coffee and juice.”
The other guy looked up from the menu and frowned. “Breakfast for dinner?”
I worked my pen across the tablet and rolled my eyes in Babyface’s direction. “It’s hardly a new concept.”
That earned a smile from Mr. Mystery who took the menus from his friend and passed them to me. “He’ll have the same. And could we get some eggs, sunny side up?”
The other guy huffed out a breath and slumped back in his seat. “Sounds delicious.”
“You’ll love it.” I gave him a wink and shook my head as I walked away. As I went, I glanced over my shoulder, and sure enough, the hotter one’s eyes were following me.
I walked to the back and placed the order while Lindy sidled up next to me with a big grin on her face. I shook my head and let out a long breath. “That was your table. What did they do, stiff you before?”
“No, silly. Didn’t you notice what happened?” She leaned back against the counter and folded her arms across her waist.
“Notice what? Two incredibly hot men came and in and you push them on me? If you don’t want to wait on them, fine.”
“No. The timing. It’s like fate or something. You had just said it would take a miracle, and they came in. One of them could be your Prince Charming.” Lindy was the kind of friend who was totally weird and often inappropriate, but I’d learned to overlook her quirky ways and embrace her crazy.
“You know I don’t believe in that stuff, Lindy. It’s not easy being a dreamer when reality sucks.” I dealt with the ugly side of life on a daily basis with my father’s illness, and it was hard to see sunshine and rainbows, much less the cloud’s silver lining.
“Did you miss how incredibly hot and well-dressed they are? I bet those shoes on the tall, dark, and handsome one cost more than my freaking car. And lucky you, he’s still staring.”
I glanced over my shoulder and found that she wasn’t kidding around. He was still watching me through the window of the order station. I turned away quickly, but he didn’t seem so easily deterred.
I nudged Lindy who was still watching him as he watched us. “Stop it. You’ll encourage him. Besides, what’s a man like him going to want with a girl like me?”
“We’ve talked about what men want, and you’re a knockout, honey.”
“I’m a waitress who is barely making ends meet, with nothing going on in her life but watching her father grow sicker. So, let me bring this guy his coffee so he can get on with his life. I’m sure he needs plenty of time to buy more expensive shoes.”
I walked around and fixed my tray with their drink order and brought it over. I placed napkins on the table and then the juice, but each took the coffee cups straight from my hand. “You must be in serious need of a caffeine fix.” I placed the creamer service in front of them, but Dark Prince pushed it away.
“Thank you, Carrie,” he said, reading my name tag. “That’s a beautiful name.” Though he was paying compliments, his eyes were narrowed, and I couldn’t tell if he was trying to be seductive, or sizing me up.
I tucked my chin and fidgeted with my collar looking away. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but I assumed a beautiful woman as yourself gets many compliments.” He sipped his coffee, and his friend turned his head to stare out the window. I wasn’t sure if he were genuine or not.
“Most people just order their food, eat it, and go.” I gave him a pointed look to let him know it was a suggestion, and his friend chuckled.
“Noted. Lucky for you I’ve never been like most people.” He returned a challenging stare along with a smile that lit his entire face. It made him appear much gentler than his previous look had.
“Lucky for me?” I gave a little laugh and was about to come back at him when the bell rang and the cook hollered.
“Order up!”
I glanced over my shoulder to see Joe shaking his head. “I’ll be right back.”
I turned and went to get their order. As I served it, a bus with about twenty blue-haired old ladies came in on their way to a convention, and things got so busy it was all I could do to keep his coffee filled.
I brought them their check, and before I could say goodbye, one of the blue hairs called me over to tell me she needed extra napkins.
The bells sounded over the door, and I looked up to see them leaving. When I went to clear their table, I found a crisp hundred-dollar bill and a message scrawled on a napkin.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
CHAPTER THREE - CHANCE
I stared out the window of my hotel suite and could see the top of Angelo’s sign. It was a tiny speck in the distance, and I couldn’t help staring. The girl at the diner had been the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen; and I’d seen a lot of beautiful women.
Carrie had a wholesome beauty that was refreshing compared to most of the women I’d taken back home with me. I hoped that she wasn’t so pure that she wouldn’t go for my offer, but then, with the money attached, it would be hard for anyone to refuse.
“Hey, when you’re down there, bring me back some of those waffles with the maple bacon.” Nate had appreciated the diner’s food after all and hadn’t stopped talking about it since we’d left.
“I’ll try and remember.” I gave him a teasing grin.
“You’re really going to choose her? She didn’t seem like the freaky type.”
“Most of them aren’t.” I didn’t choose all my companions by how freaky they might be in the bedroom. I didn’t even choose them by their looks, though, admittedly, all of them were beautiful. It took something much more than that: a gut instinct.
“I bet they are when you get through with them?” He grinned and looked up to give me a wink.
Being my best friend, I’d shared with him the details of some of the trips and the women I’d share my time with, the same as he’d share with me about his. He was the only person aside
from my intermediary that knew any details about my hobby.
I didn’t dignify his remark with a response, and instead got the call that my car had arrived, so I went down after a casual goodbye and headed to the diner.
The bells on the door announced my arrival as I walked in and spotted Carrie across the room.
She wasn’t wearing her uniform, and instead had on casual jeans and a top which hung off her shoulders to reveal blue tank straps beneath it. Her hair was the only thing about her that was the same, and she wore it pulled up in a high ponytail.
As I walked over, I could think of a few things to do with that hair of hers, and imagined myself holding those gorgeous locks from behind, and her panting beneath me.
“Hey there, big tipper.” She gave me a warm smile, but I could tell she was leery of me as she took a step back when I approached.
“Hello, Carrie. I was hoping I could talk to you on your break.”
“Oh? I’m not working. I’m only here to get my check. But I guess I can make a minute for that hundred you dropped.” She waved me along with her to a booth, and as we situated, another waitress stepped up with a big smile.
“Can I get you two anything?” She had a grin on her face, and a look in her eye that told me she knew about the tip, and I recognized her from the day before.
“No, thanks, Lindy. I’m good.”
Carrie glanced up at me, and I decided I better order something.
“Coffee, please. Black.” Lindy hurried away, and Carrie propped her elbows on the table and folded her arms casually.
“I would have introduced you, but since I don’t know your name—”
“I’m Chance.” I wouldn’t tell her my last name, and I didn’t want to know hers.
“I bet you are,” she quipped. She glanced over her shoulder as Lindy returned to the table and placed my coffee down in front of me and hurried away. “What do you want to talk about, Chance? I’ve got a busy day of catching up on life before I have to come back to this shithole.”
“I have a proposition for you.” I figured we might as well get down to business.
She stared at me for a moment, her eyes becoming suspicious. “A ‘proposition’? I think you have the wrong girl,” she said as she shook her head. She started to stand to go, but I reached out and touched her hand. “It’s not illegal, and it pays one hundred thousand dollars, so maybe you’d like to hear me out.” She stared at me like I’d lost my mind as I continued. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t make anywhere close to that, do you?”
“Is this a joke? Did Lindy put you up to this?” She turned and stared at the other waitress who was busy waiting on another table.
“I’m quite serious. Are you interested?”
She shrugged. “I’ll hear you out.” She lifted her shoulder and held up her hand, waving Lindy over. “Bring me a root beer with a splash of vanilla and cherry, please. And put it on Chance’s ticket.”
“Root beer? I haven’t had one of those since I was a kid.”
“It’s a house specialty. You should try one sometime. So, about this proposition?” She made an impatient gesture, waving me on.
“I’d like you to come stay with me for two weeks. Everything would be arranged through a contract, and I don’t need to know anything more about your personal life than your first name. I use a mediator, so they would ensure your safety and make sure the money is paid on time per the contract.”
“Wait, you’re talking about sex?” I nodded, and she shook her head and laughed. “I’m not what you want. I’m not experienced for that kind of job, so maybe you should hire yourself a professional.” She pulled her lips into a tight line as Lindy dropped off her root beer and left.
“You’re exactly what I want. I’m intrigued by you, and I think we’d have a good time. My estate is gorgeous, so you could consider it a paid vacation if you like, and I’m sure that kind of money could change your life.”
“You have no idea.” She seemed as if she could cry, and I hated that she felt pressured. The fact that she hadn’t thrown the root beer in my face and slapped me, told me that she needed the money; badly. “Could I tell someone where I’m going?”
“Yes, and they could know how to contact the mediator if there’s any type of emergency.”
“Two weeks? Not a day longer?” She seemed to be really considering my offer, which made my dick twitch in my pants.
“Not an hour longer.”
She leaned in across the table. “I’ve got people who count on me, so if you’re dicking me around—”
“I’m not dicking you around. I’m a wealthy man, and I like to have what I want, but I also know that means paying handsomely for it. The rules are in place to ensure you’ll be safe, but there are also rules that protect me.”
“Protect you? From what?”
“From breaking the agreement, from going to the press and splashing my face and name all over the tabloids, etcetera.””
“In other words, if I take this deal—”
“I’m going to have you, anytime and anyway I want,” I finished.
Her mouth popped open, and she bit her bottom lip and met my eyes.
“It’s a lot to consider.” She wrung her hands on the table. “My father is sick, and I’m all he has.”
I placed my hands over hers and stroked them with my thumb. “Then I assume you aren’t in any position to say no.”
I gave her a moment to mull it over. “Should I have my man contact you?”
“As you said; what choice do I have?” I hated that her misfortune worked in my favor, but it wasn’t the first time, and in the end, the other women had been pleased with their time. Most jumped at the opportunity, but there were a few who were timid.
“It’s a yes or a no, Carrie. I can walk out that door and never see you again, but that would be a shame, don’t you think? Think of this as an adventure.” I gave her my warmest smile, and though she seemed reluctant, she gave me one in return.
“Then my answer is yes, so what do I need to do?”
I reached into my pocket and handed her a phone. It was the same one I used for all my women, and I had it wiped clean each time, and the number changed. “Take this, and a man named Rick Herring will contact you. He’ll make all the arrangements, and I’ll see you when you get there.”
“That’s it? I won’t see or talk to you until then?”
“No, but trust me, Carrie: we’re going to have a wonderful time.”
End of Sneak Peak. Would you like to know how this continues?
Click Here: Two Weeks of Sin: A Billionaire & Virgin Romance
What would you do...
If the man of your wet dreams made you an offer?
One that made you blush.
But accepting would mean total and complete submission.
It's sort of my thing...
I see a woman I want and I go all in.
One-hundred thousand dollars.
My private estate.
Non-stop orgasms.
No strings attached.
But there's one catch...
I own her for those fourteen glorious days.
Every delicious morsel.
It's how I feed the beast at night.
So I can conquer the world by day.
It's my equilibrium.
At least it was, until two weeks stopped being enough. How will I convince the woman of my dreams to stay after she's had a taste of the beast?
Two Weeks of Sin: A Billionaire & Virgin Romance
CUFF ME Daddy: Sneak Peak
CUFF ME Daddy:A Single Dad, Police Officer Romance
CHAPTER ONE – STARLA JONES
If one more asshole decides to pinch my ass today, I’m going to go slap the stupid right out of him!
I caught a glance of myself in the mirror behind the bar while I tallied up for the night. My long, dark hair was disheveled and falling from its clip, my cheeks were stained with patchy blush that had worn from the day’s
heat, and my mascara was a smudgy mess. At least my boobs had pulled their weight and earned me my usual hefty tips. Sadly, the men at the bar didn’t always know how to keep their hands to themselves and tonight was going to be one of those nights when I’d have to seriously hold back from grabbing the Glock .28 I had hidden behind the bar.
I’d cut my full-time school schedule short to help out, and there were plenty of days like today when I’d regretted it. My dream was to earn my degree as a social worker and make my way out of the rough side Chicago, but for now, Lu needed me more. Those goals had to be put to the side. For now, my only ambitions involved not being groped by older men, and avoiding vomit on me at any given point of the night.
Talk about an over-achiever, right?
All I knew was that I hated the job most when there wasn’t any muscle around to keep an eye on things. It should have been my brother Scott’s job, as he was the manager of the place, but as usual, he was off doing God-knows-what with his new thug friends. He’d left me and my grandmother hanging once again, and she was sitting out on the floor talking to two assholes that refused to leave until their beers were finished.
If anyone could speed them up without getting their hackles up, it was my grandmother: Luna Jones; Lu to the regulars. She’d opened the bar thirty-five years ago despite being a single mom to my own mother. She had a way about her and could charm the devil with a matchstick when she wanted to. She’d also tell a joke or two, and you can bet she’d out-cuss any truck driver or sailor, all while looking like Betty White’s sweeter sister. At least until she opened her mouth.
My brother was a different story. Scott never really wanted to deal with the bar, but since he was the oldest boy and the apple of Lu’s eye, she wanted him to look like a big shot, which would be fine if he didn’t leave me to do all his work. Truth was, Lu was still in charge around the place, and anyone that didn’t think so was a fool.