Wild Billionaire Romance - Chapter 34: Chapter 34

MARAT
“I wanna know more about your boss, though.”
“My boss? Oh, nothing, he’s pretty par for the course.”
“Come again?”
“You know, he’s pushy. Wants to date all the girls. Some say yes right away. Like they just wanna get it over with.”
“You date him?”
“Me? No. Actually, I’ve been lucky. I’ve been here a year without being backed into a corner, but now I think he sees me as a challenge.”
She made a face that said she was repulsed, and it was all I could do not to go after the motherfucker right then. She shouldn’t be working in a place that made her feel unsafe. No one should have to do that.
“He’s been pushy with you sexually?” I growled.
I needed to make sure I understood everything that asshole was guilty of before I went after him. He was already going to pay. That wasn’t in question.
But how much he would pay? That would depend on her next words.
“Well, he’s asked me out, but I’m not stupid. The girls talk. When you go out with him, he expects sex. And I am not having sex with that man.”
“Damn fucking straight you’re not. Hasn’t anyone told the owner?”
“No way. No one wants to get a rep for being a shit stirrer in this town. You could end up blacklisted and most of us are hardworking people who need these jobs,” she replied, shaking her head.
“That’s messed up. No one, male or female, should ever feel pressure to date or have sex with their boss, Dumplin’. That’s just un-fucking-acceptable!”
“That’s life. But it’s not so bad, really. And I’ll be fine. I didn’t mean to sound like it was do or die. And I didn’t mean to make you upset or angry⁠—”
“Shit,” I muttered, running my hand over my face. “Look, I have a temper, I admit it. But I’m not angry with you, Dumplin’. If someone is making you uncomfortable, though, I want you to know I’ll take care of it.”
“Oh no, please. You don’t even know me. You don’t have to do that,” she said, shaking her head and trying to downplay her situation.
Most women would have tried asking me to hook them up with a different job or something at this point. They would be making promises by now, trying to gain access to people I knew, exchanging favors for favors. They’d be hustling.
But not her. She wasn’t like that. Awareness crept through my veins and for the first time in a long time, I felt alive.
I interrupted her objection. There was no point in listening to her objections. This woman had me so on edge, of course I was going to do something.
“I gotta ask if it isn’t about him pressuring you to date him, why do you think he wants to fire you?”
“Oh, uh, I’m wearing the wrong shoes today,” she said, and shrugged.
I glanced down, checking out her tiny feet in the tall pumps. Wrong shoes?
“Their supposed to be four inches high, these are only three. Mr. Royce has a mark on the wall in his office and he checks each one of the waitresses every night to make sure we comply.”
“What the fuck? Must have a foot fetish.”
“Probably.”
She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. I was dying to take over doing that for her, but I managed to catch myself.
“So, you’re a rule breaker, I like that. But why wait to be fired? Why not leave?”
“Well, that’s easy. Money,” she scoffed. “I mean, the diner where I used to work never bounced back from Covid and when they closed their doors, it was hard for a while. I lucked out when my ex-roommate told me about this place. It was a long shot, but I got hired.”
“That was a year ago,” I said, making sure I had the timeline right.
“About that, yeah. I expected Mr. Royce to give up trying to get me to go out with him.”
“And you’ve never?” I had to ask.
“Hell no,” she said, nose wrinkled in disgust. “Even if I was tempted, which I was not the rumor is that Royce Rage, that’s his nickname, has a teeny tiny dick.”
“Royce Rage?”
“Yeah. He has mood swings,” she explained, and I hated the fucker already.
“Mood swings and a small dick. That’s why the steroid rumor,” I said, explaining it to myself.
“Yep,” she agreed.
“So, size does matter,” I replied.
I had to steer the topic away from her boss before I did something dumb and acted on the ridiculous jealousy I was feeling.
“Well, if you haven't figured that out, then you can just thank god for that face of yours. I bet women cream themselves just looking at you,” she replied with a candor I found both irresistible and refreshing.
“You're not wrong,” I said and frowned.
I had to admit I suffered from a preconceived notion that women just enjoyed sex no matter what they got. To me it was just something that happened between mutually consenting parties.
Had I ever had someone not derive pleasure from engaging in sex with me? I didn’t think so. If that did happen, would she have told me? I really could not say.
Hmm.
It bothered me that I didn’t know. No, no woman had ever complained after sex. But then again, I never asked. I never cared.
This was a bizarre conversation. Not uncomfortable. The opposite, in fact. I just never had a female speak so bluntly about sex before. Not to me.
“So, you’re saying you would tell a man if you weren't satisfied?” I needed to know.
“Um, yeah,” she said, accepting the glass of vodka I pushed her way.
She sipped it, made a face, and I grinned. That was probably due to the lack of lemon or ice.
“Oh wow, that is smooth, but I don’t usually drink hard liquor. Anyway, lack of an O face would be pretty fucking indicative of a failure to launch, so to speak.”
“Are you saying you’re a demonstrative little thing, then?” I asked, and my voice dropped an octave.
“What?” she asked, her blue gaze darting to mine.
“Are you showy when you come, Dumplin’? What exactly is your O face?”
I leaned closer, one hand wrapped around her wrist, my other arm draped over the back of her chair, my fingertips brushing against her bare shoulders.
I was crowding her, but she didn’t move away, so I didn’t care. I wanted to get closer. I needed to touch her.
“Wouldn't you like to know,” she murmured, and I dipped my head.
“Yeah, Dumplin’. I want to know.”
I was close. So close to kissing her sweet mouth I could feel her warm breath tickling my skin. Her hair smelled sweet and citrusy, like mandarins or clementines.
I couldn’t get enough of it. Of her. I wanted more, and I intended to take it.