put dinner up for you.
Ah, now the little lady is going to cover my dish with Saran wrap and put it in the microwave for me. Why can’t she submit to me, get it over with, and move on? At this point, I’ll still honor her bet. I want her for one night. She’d be the perfect submissive, and for the one time we’re together, I can show her so much. Then I can go back to Sora and Ariel. My text alerts me again when I realize even in my thoughts, I’m lying to myself.
My Kitten: Hey, could you let me know what you’re doing. I mean, it’s only polite, Sir.
The sarcasm is evident even through the phone. Oh, she’s getting pissed, and I need her to remain pissed. I want her to see what she’s missing, and the excitement of this life, but right now, this whole thing has gotten too cute, and I am not cute. I don’t fucking do cute. I toss my phone down after I turn it off. I can’t see anything else from her.
Greer sits near me. “Hey, I thought you were heading to your house.” The little smirk on his face tells me Jared has told him more about my little temptation than I thought. “Don’t you have someone waiting for you?”
A bourbon is in my hands. Not looking at his smug face, I retort. “Don’t you have a DA to go try to fuck?” I ask.
“Oh, all in good time, I’m getting him ready for me. You know what they say. I can turn anyone to the dick.”
I laugh so hard at him. “This is what they say? Are you sure?”
“Fucking positive.” He moves his body to my line of sight. “So, this chick, Eve, what is it about her?”
I take a long swig of my drink, then reply, “She’s nothing. Just a woman who will kneel to me, then I’ll fuck her, and that will be it.”
He chuckles. I’ve always been the closest to Greer and Jared. “First off, you never have to chase tail. It comes naturally, and chicks flock to you. So stop with the bullshit and tell me what makes this chick different.”
Me and the boys, we aren’t like this. We are men—we don’t boo-hoo over our lives. We discuss men stuff. Sex and alcohol and a fuck ton more sex and maybe sports. All of us are more wealthy than we can imagine. Sure, I have the most money, but my boys have a buy-in at the clubs, and I take care of them. Their annual salaries are a million dollars plus the royalties they get from the twenty percent each guy owns in their particular club, which had been a gift from me.
“With Eve, I’m not used to having something I can’t have. So let’s drop it, Greer,” I almost yell at him.
“Okay, you motherfucker, you think because your parents didn’t love you like you should have been loved—that makes you unlovable? And you act like a scary motherfucker. But you paid for our tuition, for all of us to go to school together. You disobeyed your dad and turned down Harvard to go to UCLA to stay with us. And you gave us ownership in the clubs when you didn’t need to.” Greer has four percent ownership in each club to make it even. “And you were there when Maddox’s dad passed away and when Jared watched his sister succumb to cancer. You didn’t leave his side.” He takes a long swig of his signature gin and tonic and continues. “When any of us are at odds, you corner us and make us talk it out so we’ll always stay seven strong. And whenever Gio and Anton decide to have a twin fight, you push them to work it out together. And fuck, we’ve been more to each other than friends. We’re brothers, so I’m here to tell you. You could be flushing something good away. Fucking good.” He stands. He’s done, in his counselor mode, making his argument—and a fucking good argument at that.
I power my phone back on before leaving the club. Of course, it looks as if Greer has gotten in my phone, changing my lock screen to a picture I snapped of Eve on Lady Luck the other day at Grams’ farm. My eyes are laser focused on her picture. She had no idea I took it, and with the natural beauty of my grams’ property, it’s nothing compared to