Armani's POV
I gasped. Is it really who I think it is? The man I hate to admit I've been thinking about and looking for.
Here he was sitting right in front of me looking finer than ever.
His Outfit
He was dressed in black slacks with a black dress shirt and no wrinkle in sight. He had rolled his sleeves up to show off his bulging muscles. I couldn't help myself but stare. This man definitely works out. Between his rock-solid abs, which I bumped into before and his iron fists, this man is definitely hitting the gym frequently.
His veiny big hands were littered with silver rings and a Rolex strapped to his right wrist. Oh, how this man was oozing with appeal. If given the opportunity, I would jump his bones—as Diamond would put it— right now.
I shook my head out of my thoughts. This man was a paying customer not a lump of meat on display at the deli counter.
"Ciao. What can I get for you, sir?"
I brushed my apron and ran my fingers down my curls to make sure none of them frizzed up during the walk from my apartment to the restaurant.
Why was I feeling so self-conscious all of a sudden? I'm sure I look fine. Why would it even matter anyways if I did or not?
"Hmm... I guess I'll order some food first before I tell you what I really want, Belleza."
I gasp audibly at his response. If it was any other customer saying this, I would most definitely look at them weirdly and be appalled. But him saying it, has me feeling extremely different. It must be on the offense of pretty privilege. I mean seriously this man looked like Zeus had crafted him from a lightning bolt.
He was a sight to see.
What could he possibly want?
YOU ARE READING
My Armani
RomanceEven if we have done this multiple times before, I still felt shy about the whole process, which is why I was so glad he always took the lead. "Shhh...none of that Principessa..." he paused, looking down at me with some admiration as if I was the m...