Alpha Me Not Read Free Page B

opposite Susie. “Terri arranged this?”
    “Yes. Thanks, Azzo.” She accepted the leather-bound menu Azzo proffered, and bent her head. “It’s a godsend. Fits into my electives perfectly, and I could use the extra money. I’m getting paid to put what I’ve learned to work. What more can a gal ask for?”
    She peeked up then, those ruby lips curved, her dark eyes sparkling, and he just about melted down to the bone. Christ. He hadn’t been so turned on in forever. Her flushed cheeks, those blue-black locks swirling around her tanned arms, those trim hips, and he knew how pretty her pussy was. His dick hurt, he was so engorged.
    Dinner was, surprise of all surprises, fun. Susie had an infectious, droll humor, and he hadn’t laughed so hard and so long in ages. She parodied every diner, but not in a hurtful way, more like a cartoonist drawing a caricature, painting a picture of each person’s life from a whimsical observation, a hand gesture, a lifted brow, a lopsided dimple.
    He drew out the dinner, insisting on a decaf cappuccino after their main course, and prodded Azzo into a selection of every dessert on the menu. When the tray with the sweets arrived, Susie drooled a sigh and debated aloud which chocolate decadence to sample.
    Before he could voice the suggestion, Azzo swept a courtier’s bow and declared, “For you, Susie mia , I will bring a sample of each.”
    “That’s so sweet of you, Azzo.”
    Joe flexed his hands when she touched Azzo’s bulging forearm for a mere breath.
    “I haven’t had the time to run much this week. How about we save the sample for another time, and I just have the banana split tonight?”
    Could she have ordered any dessert more designed to titillate? A banana, for chrissake?
    “But of course, Susie mia. Would you like the traditional banana split? Or Mama’s version with three flavors of chocolate?”
    Where the fuck had this “Susie mia” bit come from? Joe scowled at the Italian gigolo.
    “Three flavors of chocolate?” Susie licked her lips.
    Azzo kissed his fingers. “You will, how you say, climax on the chocolate.”
    No. That was not—how you say—what the young stud meant. He’d have to have a fist-meet-teeth talk with Azzo later.
    “We have ze chocolate almond, ze chocolate orange, and ze chocolate peanut ice cream. A little of each, no?” Azzo spoke perfect English when he wanted. His fake macho Italian accent grated Joe’s nerves raw.
    Susie clapped her hands. “Perfect.”
    Joe ordered another cappuccino.
    After Azzo delivered the banana split with all the accompanying pomp and circumstance of a coronation ceremony, Joe bared his teeth and said, “I noticed the cameras aren’t on. Is something wrong with the security system?”
    Azzo glanced at the two minicams set into the corners of the room. He cursed under his breath. “That Luciano, he lives in another world. Once again, he has turned off the switch.’ Scusi. ”
    Relaxing when the young stud disappeared through the kitchen’s swinging doors, Joe braced an arm on the chair, turned to face Susie, and near choked on his spit.
    She’d speared the banana in half and proceeded to dip the tip in each of the three chocolate ice cream scoops. He dug his hands into the wooden chair handles. A sliver stabbed his thumb, and he hardly noticed, couldn’t drag his gaze from her pink, delicate tongue as she lovingly licked the fudgy cream and then sucked on the cleaned banana.
    “I’m somewhat of a chocoholic.”
    Somewhat.
    If he moved a muscle, if he so much as inhaled, if he didn’t stop staring at the dark smudge on her lower lip, he’d come in his pants, right there and then. He yanked his gaze to the ceiling. Counted to ten in Arabic, Mandarin, and Armenian.
    When his ragged breathing regained something close to a normal rhythm, he jerked his attention back to Susie and stifled a groan as he watched the last morsel of fruit vanish into her mouth.
    He’d give his left nut and then some if