Page 9 of Ruger
Before he could reply, the buzzer sounded. He stood from the window and walked over to the elevators, now dimming the lights. I watched his every move, noticing he was shirtless. His joggers hung dangerously low, and from the looks of it, he wasn't wearing anything under them. He looked at the camera, then pressed a button, allowing the car to ascend. When it opened, I noticed a delivery man carrying bags from Bar 7. I loved that place.
"Thanks, Nore. 'Preciate you."
"No problem, Mr. Santana. Have a good evening." The man bowed, stepped back on the elevator, and disappeared as quickly as he had come.
I then watched as Ruger pulled a plate from the cabinet and grabbed silverware before walking over to the table and placing everything down. I didn't speak. I just watched his tattoo covered body move around, placing the silverware on a napkin and food on the plate. His body was like a work of art, as if it should be cemented and placed in an exhibit to be marveled at and honored.
"Come eat." His gruff voice spoke, knocking me out of my trance.
"Is there any way you could say that in a nicer way?" He sighed deeply. I was sure he was irritated with me by now.
"There's dinner over here if you'd like to come eat."
I smiled lightly. "I need to put on some clothes first."
"You want to try this again?" he asked, grabbing my luggage and handing it to me.
I put on a fake smile and clenched my teeth. "Thank you."
He smirked. "Much better, and you're welcome. There's a bathroom right through there." He pointed to a space under the iron stairs that I hadn't noticed during my exploring. "I'll be by to check on you tomorrow. Enjoy your dinner." He walked around me and headed toward the stairs.
"Wait! You're not staying?"
He looked at me as his eyes dropped from my face, trailed down to my bare feet, then back up slowly while meeting my eyes again.
"No," he simply replied, then continued his stride to the stairs.
"Why? I..."
I didn't want to admit that now that it was dark, I was afraid. This place was too big, and although its beauty made me want to live here forever, I didn't want to be here alone. My apartment was just right for me, but this was too much.
Ruger slowly advanced toward me until he was inches away from my face.
"Not your little shit-talking ass afraid to be alone." He chuckled. "I'm not staying here because your brother asked me not to fuck you."
"Excuse me? As if you could!"
"Oh, I know I could, and I will if I stay here. You irritate me so badly with that smart-ass mouth and fucked up attitude. I'll fuck that shit right up out of you and have your head so gone you'll need a GPS to find it. Stop while you're ahead, Mona Lisa."
I scoffed. "Your arrogance is unbecoming."
"You call it arrogance. I call it confidence." He moved a little closer to me, and my breathing momentarily paused.
The scent of sandalwood radiated from his beautifully tattooed skin like he was born smelling like the fragrance. Those dark eyes smoldered beneath the dim lighting of the living roomas his long, thick tongue slithered out, licking his bottom lip. My yoni betrayed me, creating a subtle pool that I prayed wouldn't create a puddle down my legs onto this floor. I hadn't had sex with anyone in six months. The last guy I gave myself to moved to Kentucky, so it's just been me and my Rose getting the job done.
I would never admit to the man standing before me that if he touched me, I'd fold. His arrogance, or what he considered confidence, turned me off and on at the same time.
"I can smell the months, possibly a year, of that kitty not being stroked." His palm found my neck and lightly squeezed.
A moan escaped my lips as my head fell back and my eyes closed.
Ruger made a clicking sound with that thick ass tongue. "That pussy's purring. Here, kitty kitty." His low, husky tone made my knees buckle. The growl that left his throat gave me butterflies as I felt his tongue slide across my bottom lip and suck it gently. "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty."
My inner thighs were now wet with secretion as my hands found his waist.What the fuck is he doing to me?His catcalling had me ready to pounce on him. I had to get my shit together and stand on business because there was no way I could allow him to think he got me. I pushed away from him, and he laughed.
"Your food is getting cold." The assertive look Ruger gave me pissed me off. He walked away from me, and this time, I allowed him to.
Fuck! This sexy motherfucka was too much for me. There was no way I wouldn't be stroking myself in the bathroom to relieve this damn pressure that he created.
