Page 11 of Brassy Bigwig

“You guys go ahead, I’ll wait here for her,” I point to the sofa in the grand lobby area.

I sure could use a drink while I’m waiting.

“We were planning on stopping by the bar for a few drinks first, D. Why don’t you join us?” Bianca suggests.

I swear, it’s like we’re connected somehow, as if she’s my long-lost sister or something like that. We joke around that it’s the pull of the Greek inside of us. She can tell exactly what I’m thinking and feeling, sometimes even before I do. I think about it for a second, worried I won’t notice when Genevieve arrives. But before I’m able to answer, I hear the familiar click of high heels echoing down the hallway behind me.

It’s like a universal siren for the male species. We all know it when we hear it, and it’s usually followed by the strut of a sexy woman. It’s too early for it to be her, but that doesn’t keep me from pivoting toward the noise.

When I turn around, I lock eyes on a sultry woman marching down the hallway toward me. She’s one of the sexiest creatures I’ve ever seen, and my dick twitches thinking about bending her over the concierge’s desk and having my way with her. I begin to feel guilty for having sordid thoughts of one girl while waiting on another, but then I realize exactly who it is I’m practically drooling over.

Théa.

I struggle to swallow the lump in my throat, and I pull on my tie, loosening it slightly. Everything seems to slow down as she continues to strut across the marble floor.

Does she even know how gorgeous she is?

She’s dressed in a low-cut, black, lace dress that barely covers the place between her long legs. The same place I’ve been itching to get a taste of since the moment I laid eyes on her. The thin straps helping to hold her ample tits in place look like they could snap at any moment under the weight of them.

God help me if they do.

Her hair is done up in large curls which are pinned to the side with a crystal-studded bow barrette. The strappy, black stiletto shoes she has on make her already svelte legs look even more elegant. They add several inches to her shorter height, bringing the top of her head to the level of my eyes.

She flashes me a shy smile that contradicts the confident sway of her hips.

“Sweet Jesus,” I mutter under my breath, forgetting where I am and that there are other people around. I don’t even care who heard me.

“Genevieve… hi.” I can barely get my words out.

“Hello,” she greets me before looking at Dex and Bianca.

Her angelic voice practically does me in.

“You look…”

My eyes trace every inch of her body while I try to think of a word strong enough to convey my feelings. From her gorgeous, chocolate tresses to her piercing blue stare that’s locked on me from beneath lids hooded with what I hope is lust. Over the swell of her tits, following the curve of her hips, down to the bottom of her dress. I stop momentarily when my eyes meet the hem.

What I wouldn’t give to run my hand up the length of her silky legs. Starting from her fuck-me heels, over her toned calves and thighs, right to the warm center… If I’m thinking it, surely countless others who feast eyes on her tonight will, too.

What was she thinking, wearing such a tight, tiny, poor excuse for a dress like that out of the hotel room anyway? If I had the power to take my eyes off of her, I’m sure I would find every other man within eyesight staring at théa mou. The beast within me, a raging bull who I haven’t felt stir in years, comes out, and I have to fight my instincts to tell her to go back upstairs and change into something less revealing. Something that looks less like a negligee and more like a cocktail dress.

But I won’t do that to her. I take a calming breath, needing to control both my beast as well as my dick. I don’t want to ruin my chance with her, but more importantly, I don’t want to embarrass her. Besides, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to show up to dinner with her on my arm. To have every woman we pass along the way wishing they were her, every man wishing they had her. The envy on their faces would be a fair trade.

“Breathtaking,” I finally finish my sentence and pray my pause wasn’t actually as long as it felt.

“Hi, I’m Bianca,” Bianca offers Genevieve her hand, breaking me from my trance and once again proving she knows what I need.

“It’s very nice to meet you, I’m Genevieve.”

“Oh, I know,” Bianca answers, smirking at me.

I watch as pink tints Genevieve’s cheeks, and her posture stiffens. She’s embarrassed, and it’s adorable.

I roll my eyes at Bianca before introducing her to Dex.

“Nice to meet you as well,” Genevieve smiles, correcting her reaction quickly and taking Dex’s hand when he offers it to her.

“We were just going to grab a drink before dinner,” Bianca explains. “Do you guys want to join us? I know you’re early for your reservation.”

---