The moment he entered the bar, my eyes never left him. I have served criminals, liars, broken men, but none have made me want to lean closer. He didn't intimidate me. If anything, he made me curious.
I didn't belong to anyone—but the way he watched me made it feel like a challenge.
He came to me with that mischievous look and sat right in front of me. In that husky voice, he ordered one whiskey. It was not a request but a command—it irked me.
I looked him straight in the eye and, with a smirk, asked, "Would you like it neat, like you are, or up the rocks, like that junior of yours?" I said, pointing towards his tailored pants.
He smirked. "What would you prefer, Miss…?"
"It's Sofia," I said, a little embarrassed. Why was I even flirting with a customer in the first place? I thought to myself and nodded. "up the rocks it is, then."
He chuckled. "So you prefer the junior, I see."
I turned around, my face visibly red. "Coming right up," I said without looking back.
He was patient. I made his drink and served him, and for the whole shift, he didn't say much except occasionally asking for another drink. But one thing that didn't change was his eyes—all over my body for the entire shift—which practically made my panties soaked. I swear it felt like he knew that, and that made me frustrated it felt like I was a teenager.
My shift was about to end when he asked me when I was getting off.
"In five minutes," I said.
He nodded in acknowledgment, and I went to get changed.
Outside, he was standing there, holding a cigar in his mouth, dressed in a black tailored suit. "What a sight," I mumbled.
He turned, and I covered my mouth.
He smirked. "Glad to hear that," he said while crushing the cigar under his foot.
I blushed. "I wasn't talking about you."
"But there's no one here except me," he said, moving dangerously close to me.
I placed my hand on his chest to create some distance—but what the hell, his chest was firm, really firm. He smelled like smoke, and I couldn't help but feel the urge to lean closer.
He started laughing. "I guess you love my body."
Why does this man keep getting on my nerves?
I backed away, but he held my neck from behind—not aggressively, but with authority.
And what he said next made me freeze.