"Am I going to learn the name of the man who is surely going to be the cause of my unemployment?" I asked dryly, gratefully accepting the bubbling flute from Jeremy, the bartender on duty tonight.
"Oh, how inconsiderate of me," he mused, extending one long fingered hand out towards me. I took it, allowing him to raise it towards his lips in an incredibly old fashioned gesture. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Zayn Malik and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Grace." His voice caressed my name, his lips feathering light kisses against the back of my hand and along my knuckles. Sainte Mère de Dieu (Sweet mother of God).
Stella
Jesus fucking Christ. I was about to combust. The boss lady was starving me. She'd forced me to suffer through three months of pathetic vibrator substitutes and now she was depriving me from two of the most panty dropping men in all of creation? What the actual fuck? Charlie was shit compared to the dark Adonis we fucked senseless Friday night, and then there was the Greek God of a man standing before us. There we were, though, upright with our clothes still on. The lady was losing her edge.
The new guy was down right fuckable. Oh, the sinful, sinful things we would have done to his obscenely rich body. No amount of physical therapy would have help him walk properly after we'd finished with him. He'd have been down for the count- the best he'd ever had. That was if we would actually get it in! *hint, hint!* *wink, wink!*
But no, Dari believed in foreplay and the buildup.
Fuck the buildup and just let us fuck the billionaire. Please! I was drying up faster than west Texas in the middle of summer. I was at my breaking point, so why not make sure the break wasn't regrettable. There was no way that we could ever regret banging that gorgeous deity. Holy fuck. He was sex on legs.
Just get it in already, Christ! I cried, desperately begging for that delicious form of carnal punishment... And yet...
Darien Grace
"Most men just send a glass of chardonnay; you seem to know your head from your ass," I mused, the alcohol fueling my already raging sarcasm. I'd managed to keep it in check this far, but hell, what did I have to lose? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jeremy smirk and shake his head. The majority of Daniel's staff was used to my blunt tongue, but total strangers? Not so much. This gorgeous man didn't seem phased, though; the edge of his enticing mouth quirked upward.
"Am I to presume that you are using me solely for my choice in fine wine, then?"
"Precisely."
"And what of my paramount skills as a conversationalist? I've been led to believe that I'm quite the evening companion."
"Saldy, Monsieur Malik, my break is not long enough to justify a verdict either in favor of or against your abilities, superb or otherwise. So please forgive me for my gold digging tendencies. Not all of us can afford this vintage and I will take it where I can get it." I'm smirked, relishing in the masked innuendo. This really was fun.
"I seem to remember your attempted refusal of this and my company," he chuckled, motioning toward the glass I had raised to my lips.
"The refusal was not directed towards the vintage as much as the company. I know the rules, Monsieur, and I do not break them lightly."
"Rules, Mademoiselle Grace?"
"I know what is expected when a patron, such as yourself, takes interest in the lowly help," I answered dryly, innocently fluttering my eyelashes as the corners of his eyes tightened at my implication, "I will not allow myself to be extorted for a free drink. "
YOU ARE READING
Sonata (Harry Styles FanFiction)
Fanfiction*Written in 2014* Book One in the Darien Grace Chronicles He was my siren song and all other melodies just seemed to pale in comparison.
