Chapter Two
The parking lot’s not full this evening, so I hope that means the cook has time to prepare the food better than he normally does. I won’t hold my breath. A cute little brunette is at the hostess counter when I walk in and I give her my name. I’ve never seen her before. She must be new. I come here often enough that most of the hostesses know me already.
“I’d like to be seated at one of Sydney Warren’s tables,” I tell her. “It needs to be private.”
“Of course, right this way.” She escorts me to a corner table away from the other patrons. I check her out. She has a nice ass. It’s not as nice as Sydney’s. Images of me fucking Sydney from behind invades my mind. “You came just in time. This is her last empty table. Everyone’s been requesting her as their server today.”
“Is that right?”
“She’s popular.”
“Thank you,” I say as she sits me down and places my menu in my hand. “I hope the wait won’t be long.” I look around the half-empty restaurant.
“It shouldn’t be,” she assures me, calling a server over with my water. I take the goblet and drink, still looking over the menu. “There she is,” she says of Sydney approaching us.
“Excellent,” I say to her. “You can go now.”
Checking out her ass has made me frustrated. I shift slightly in my seat to stop my hard-on. I haven’t had an orgasm today and it shows.
“Enjoy your meal,” she says, walking away.
“I’m sure I will,” I say, looking at Sydney. She’s really the only meal I want to partake in.
“Hello, Mr. Garrett,” she says in a voice barely above a whisper.
She hates working here, and she knows I know it. I don’t even try to hide how much pleasure I’m getting out of her misery. She’ll probably get me back by spitting in my food. Like that would stop me from eating it.
“Sydney.” My voice is as smooth as satin, but I’m practically drooling over the chance that by the end of this conversation, she’ll be on her knees with my cock in her mouth.
I lean forward in my chair, trying to act as if I’m only making polite conversation, but the wheels of lust are quickly spinning in my head. All the possibilities and I will have her any way I want her. She smells of pure innocence. My fingers itch just thinking about touching my little unpopped cherry.
Perhaps I’ll have her wear this little outfit she has on when I fuck her. She looks professional with just a hint of sexy. The fitted button-down shirt hugs her waist and accentuates her perky tits, and the skirt is short enough to show off her legs, despite those god-awful flats. Her long hair is pulled back into an elegant bun. Her whole attitude just screams virgin and it’s a magnet for every horny bastard in here. No wonder they’re requesting her tables. She could bring Satan to his knees.
“What can I get for you this evening?”
“I’ll have the filet mignon, southwest chopped salad, and the answer to my question.”
“How about a bottle of our Cabernet Sauvignon to go along with that?”
“Excellent,” I say with a smile, handing her my menu. “I’m quite… thirsty.” I imagine what she’d taste like. She tries to take the menu from me, but I hold on to it, licking my lips as I eye-fuck her, until she has to pull it out of my hands.
“I’ll bring it right over.”
She walks away and I stare at her until she disappears from my sight. I couldn’t help but notice how her nipples started to poke through her thin top when she saw me glaring at her tits. I all but licked my lips at them. Her body’s already responding to me. It’s only a matter of time before her mind follows suit.
Twenty minutes later, I spot her again, coming back with my order. I catch myself almost rising from the table to acknowledge her arrival. Like I’ve been doing since I found out she had a job here, I eat in silence, watching her go about her work. I’m annoyed when I hear her forced laugh at an inappropriate joke from one of her male patrons. He’s about her age. Just old enough for me to kick his ass. Finally, she comes back over to check on me once her tables have all cleared.
“I hope you know you won’t be getting a tip with all of this neglect.”
“Do you have to make this so hard?” She takes my bottle of wine and refills my glass before sitting down, joining me.
“You are the one making it hard, insisting on working at this establishment instead of accepting my offer. It would be so much better working for me.”
“Working? Is that what you call what you’re offering? Working?”
“Absolutely. What else would it be?”
“So, you’re going to pay me to fuck you?”
“Lower your goddamn voice,” I say, looking around. She does the same, but luckily, no one’s paying us any attention. “Exactly what is it about my offer that repulses you?”
“The fact that you want me to sleep with you,” she whispers. “The fact that I’ve known you since I was a kid. The fact that you want me to sleep with you.”
“You’ve said that already.”
“Just in case you missed it.”
“Have you forgotten that it was you who came to me for my help?”
“I thought you could help with giving my dad a break. He got caught up working for you, remember?”
“That’s not how it works.”
“But you can still help?”
“This conversation’s going nowhere. I’m done.” I dab the corners of my mouth before tossing my napkin on my plate, standing up.
“You’re leaving? Are you serious?”
“I’m through playing games. You’re obviously rejecting my offer.”
“I’m not rejecting it. I’m just… I don’t know. It’s a lot to ask.”
“And what you’re asking me to
