Yes Sir (18+ BDSM Erotica)

Chapter 6

MICHAEL'S POV

I can't believe I reacted the way I did. I mean, I barely knew her, and I cried. Cried. Like, hard. It was humiliating.

And she came back. She may have only been gone for about and hour and a half, but she came back.

And that counts for something.

In fact, it counts for everything. She even came back with some of the best food I've ever tasted in my life.

"You enjoy it?" she asked, walking around the kitchen looking for her phone.

"It's on the counter by the toaster," I said, then took a big bite of pizzelle. "An yis, zis ihs dilishis." I swallowed. "Thank you."

She smiled. "Family recipes. Don't thank me, thank my great-grandmother."

I nodded, looking at the ceiling as if it was heaven. "Well, thank you, Ms...?"

"Soffioti."

"Soffioti," I echoed, over-exaggerating her Italian accent.

She giggled. "So childlike, Mr. Steele. Perhaps I'll bring you Italian food every day, to see you this way."

I smiled, standing up and grabbing her waist to kiss her. "Maybe it's not just the food."

Then the doorbell rang, and I sighed, tapping her on the ass before I walked towards the door. I slipped on pants on the way there, grabbing a shirt and sliding it over my head. Jesus, why does every perfect moment have to be interrupted?

I opened the door, and before me stood a older man who looked to be in his mid-forties with brown eyes and gray hair. He wore a dirty t-shirt and cowboy boots.

"Hello, sir," I said, my business voice on. "Can I help you?"

"Well," he drawled, "I just wanted to see if their was anybody here by the name of Lisa Ferrari, by chance?"

My guard went up. What does this old man want to do with Lisa?

"Well, sir, I - "

"Mr. Wilson, is that you?"

His eyes went wide. "It sure is!"

I turned and Lisa was walking towards the door, smiling at the man. He smiled back at her and seemed to be bubbling over with happiness. 

"Who's this young man?" he asked, grinning at me.

"Mr. Wilson, this is Michael Steele. Michael, this is James Wilson."

Ah.

Then he started rambling. "My angel, dear, you saved my drunken soul, yes you did. I looked you up in the interweb and it said that you lived some-a-place around here and I went there. Your friend told me to come here. What was the name... Stacy? No, that ain't quite it."

"Sarah," she said, "And it's called the internet," the smile never leaving her face. Who was this guy?

Then I remembered - this was the man she'd helped at the bar.

"Interweb, internet, intercourse, what in all hell is the difference?!" he said, his southern drawl making it that much more amusing.

"Don't make me pull out the list!"

"Oh, sugar, I sure won't. I ain't got the time! I gotsa get a-going. I do workin' for my daughters and sons."

"Ah, I see. Well, it was nice to see you, Mr. Wilson."

"Same here, sugar. I hope to a-see you again!"

"Bye-bye," she said smiling still.

"See ya down yonder, angel."