Chapter 4

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  "Eric, I think y/n would do exceedingly well in the industry. She does have a knack for it. Y/n is always "so well" put together." He defended you, making sure to empathize on 'Well.' Make sure you knew what he was hinting at. He was pleased with himself seeing the look on your face. Him defending you the look of why. Why would he defended you was another story. "And besides, they do still teach them the business aspect of the industry there."

        He didn't work this hard to get this far from you to come in, not knowing what the hell to do and run company into the ground. He deserved this, not wanting a spoiled little girl get handed a company she knows nothing about. He could run it better without having to babysit. He would need to work on Eric more with the whole fashion school. It was where you belong not in the corporate business dealing with men that would never take her seriously. Just another pretty face, giving 90% of the company boners.

        After lunch, he was in more meetings dealing with idiots that couldn't do their damn jobs. Some of the people Eric had hired as interns. Didn't know how to find an ass on a donkey even if it bites them in their own arse. Another reason why Princess wouldn't be cut out for this. The high demand, the stress, and late nights. Tom slumped down into his plush chair. Pulling his tie from his neck, the blasted thing felt like a noose around his neck. His hand rubbed the back of his neck. To say he needed a drink, was the understatement of the year. Some kind of release for the pent-up tension in his body was starting to get to him.

           Tom looked over at his Mobile, maybe a different kind of release was in order one he could quickly do himself. Snatching his phone from his desk, staring at the screen as he unlocked it. Your name was the first to appear when he opened his texts. His thumb hovered over your text. He looked at the door noting that he had locked it after he walked in his office. His pants growing a little tighter at the thought that had crossed his mine and the photos just waiting to be looked at.

        "What the hell are you doing, mate." Tom cursed himself as he slammed the phone face down on the desk. "You need to delete those. Not bloody wank off to them." He groaned his head fell, taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. 'She is just your partner, "little girl." That's all she is, a girl. A bloody fuckable one. No one would know that I. No Thomas, you bloody wanker.' Tom hissed, shifting in his chair, too uncomfortable to cross his leg. "Fuck," looking back at his phone before grabbing it again.
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          Tom made it to the bar that his friend owned. It was a bit sketchy, but it was a perfect place to whine down. Drink himself a bit stupid and maybe hook up with some random chick. The bass was heard from the parking lot as he parked his jag next to his buddy's new bike. Both vehicles looked a bit out of place for this establishment. But Tom wasn't worried. The site, even for it looks on the outside, held a lot of people in positions like his.

          "Evening, mister Hiddleston." The big broad man covered in tattoos, with a deep Southern drawl greeting him as Tom walked up.

         "Evening Mike." Tom nodded as the man let him in the door. The old-time rock and roll played from the speakers overhead, were barely understandable for how loud it was in the joint. Moving throughout the sea of people.

           "There's my sexy Englishman; I was wondering when you would show that handsome face again." The woman at the bar purred her blonde hair piled up high. Her hands were resting on her exposed sides.

         The tiny outfit she wore giving her the upper hand on better tips. The shirt she wore barely covering her, showing off her breasts that were held on by a push-up bra that was most likely two sizes, two small. Her shorts were about the same two sizes too small. She wasn't bad looking, not at all. Just not Tom type of girl. Sure maybe for a quick little fuck but nothing more than that.

            "You finally here, to whisk me away from this place?" She cooed. She was leaning over the bar. Making sure her rack was on full display. Pouring Tom his usual.

        "At last love, I am not. Truly I am sorry. But I need to see the man upstairs." Tom gave her one of his panty-melting smiles, making any girl swoon.

        "Breaking my heart here. He's over there. It's his "night off." She pouted. Tom nodded, patting the wood surface of the bar as he pushed himself away.

             "Tom, buddy." The man booming voice was almost louder than the music that was blasting. He patted the set next to him.

               "Chris." Tom sat next to the muscle-bound blond.

               "You look like you need a few more drinks and a few good rounds with a pretty little thing.." Chris pointed out.

               "You have no idea, mate. It's been one of those days let me tell you." Tom huffed, taking a long drink from his whiskey. His eyes were scanning the room.

              "Well, I'm all ears and happy to give you liquid courage to find some girl to stick your cock in." Chris chuckled, bumping Tom's shoulder with his. Tom rolled his eyes. His large hand rubbed his face before scratching at his beard.

          
          Tom may have let it slipped about the photo. But immediately told his friend he had deleted them. He didn't want his friends to see you like that. Sure he has yet to abolish them, but he wasn't going to parade them around either. His head hit the back of the booth, adjusted his legs, keeping his knees apart. While his friend went on and on about how he shouldn't have erased your photos, that on lonely nights, he could be pulling himself off to them. Better then porn almost, you were somthing physically known, let along could touch.

          "I'm telling you, man, and you could see that nice little peace more than once. You can not sit here and tell me you don't want to make her scream. I'm sure daddy's little Princess has a few little kinks in need of revealing." Tom took a deep breath. His hand feels over his face. Before he turned to tell his friend to shove it. Chris was not helping his still unsatisfied need.

           When he looked up, he spotted you coming in with someone. You were weaving through the crowd of people behind the other girl, making heads turn. He was surprised to see you in a place like this. Little Princess in a biker bar. Dressed in a cute little number that covered more than the bartender but more revealing then he would like.

Tom watched you and your friend as you took the first of your shot. Clearly, you were annoyed about something. A smile reached his face; perhaps it was him you were very animated about. Your friend seems way to entertain the whole thing. This time you were the one to leave heading towards the bar. Ignoring his friend's complete, Tom found himself heading to the bar as well. His friend, only hearing him mumbled about needing another round.

"Does daddy know you're here, princess." Tom purred into your ear, smirk placed along his lips as he watching you jump in surprise. Tom leaned his hip against that wood bar.

"T-Tom, what are you doing here?" You stuttered out nervously. Tom raised his hand, holding up two slender fingers to the blonde bartender, which he received a suspicious nod from.

"I would ask you the same thing, Princess. This isn't some high-end club, darling." Tom hummed his eyes intensely watched you.

"I'm well aware of that." You huffed. "And could you stop calling me Princess." You glared up, tapping your heel along the wood floor.

"What would you like me to call you, kitten perhaps." He cooed, pulling at a lose strained of hair. The bartender brought you your drinks and Toms as well before you could protest about the name. "Her drinks are on me." Tom tapped the oak counter. "See you around, kitten." Tom pushed away from the bar. Making you scoff, he could hear the clear annoyance in your voice. Maybe a little anger was bubbling up.

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