Page 63 of The Biker and the Baker
Mira’s lips form into an apologetic O, but I don’t react.
Yet another establishment owned by Cookie and ran by the golden nephew. Well, that explains the carte blanc vouchers for the entire kitchen staff.
He runs his fingers through a thick lock of my hair then jerks his head. “C’mere.”
At first, I play stubborn, but then he gives methat look,and the next thing I know I’m up and following him like a lamb.
He leads me out of the main area, down a well-lit hall, through the facials area, through the mani and pedi area, then into another hall of red doors. From his pocket, he produces a set of keys and lets us into one of the rooms.
A dim-lit, sweet-smelling, elegantly decorated spa room with a built-in vanity and frosted glass cabinets, two spa beds, and an all-glass combi-robe with fluffy robes and towels inside. Such a calm, soothing ambiance.
Sliding a hooked finger under my chin, Onyx tips my face up so our eyes meet. “You think I’d ask you to be my woman then fuck around on you?”
Yes. Using attitude as my shield, I answer, “She was giving you the ‘arm squeeze’.”
“What arm squeeze?”
“The ‘I want to screw your brains out’ arm squeeze.”
He blinks at me. “P, I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.You’remore Pamella’s type.”
“Yeah, well, she’d go straight for you in a heartbeat, trust me,” I persist. “The arm squeeze never lies.”
“Listen to me”—He moves in close and cups my face, making sure he has my full attention—“I’m no saint, but I ain’t a bad guy either. If I’m with you, I’m withyou. I don’t fuck around. Spent my life avoiding commitment ‘cause I knew whenever the time came to commit, that’d be it for me.
“What we got here is real. It ain’t the same shit you had with Cal. Your pussy is mine—you fuck no one else. My cock is yours—I fuck no one else. You grow tired of me and feel like you need a taste of someone else, too bad, ‘cause you’re stuck with me.”
“And ifyouget tired of me?”
“Impossible.”
“But if you do, though?”
“Too bad, I’m stuck with you.”
“Okay.”
“So no more ‘arm squeeze’ bullshit, ‘kay?” he says. “Bitches can squeeze all they fuckin’ want, but I’m all yours.”
I lick my lips. “Are you gonna give me my massage? I’ve noticed there’re only two male staff here, and one of them is a security guard.”
“That’s ‘cause our clientele’s mostly women…for women.”
Huh?“What?”
He chuckles. “On a day like today, it’s a normal spa. On other days, it’s swarming with women like Mira who come here forcompletemassages.”
“Oh…OH.” I blink up at him with widened eyes. “That’s why the vouchers were only valid to use Mondays and Wednesdays? Because the other days are…” I drop my voice to a whisper, “…naughty days?”
He’s laughing at me now.
“A strip club, a pastry café, and a lesbian rub and tug,” I muse. “What other business do you manage?”
He pulls at the straps of my robe. It falls open. He peels it off my body, the fluff of white material pooling at my feet. I’m not expecting it, so I yelp when his palm connects with my ass.
“Get on the bed,” he orders.
With a fresh, delicious sting on my butt, I do as I’m told.
