He’s an amazing cousin.
A damn good best friend.
A trustworthy right hand.
“You. Are. Absolutely. Full. Of. Shit,” Miko chortles when he arrives in front of me. “Admit it.”
Oh, and undoubtedly the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever known.
“I…” my voice trails off the direction of my desk along with my attention, “think there might be merit to her concerns.”
“Wanting to fuck her, Beni, doesn’t automatically give her merit.”
“Guarda la tua fottuta bocca,” I absentmindedly bite.
“Watch my fucking mouth?” Miko’s laughter recalls my attention. “Watch my fucking mouth? Merda santa! Did you really just tell me to watch my fucking mouth?”
More chortles cause me to shift uncomfortably against my desk.
“You’ve been fucking females since we were eleven and not once, not fucking once, have you ever told me to watch my mouth about one.” His hands find their way to his pockets as his mirth-filled expression finally fades. “While I’m obviously amused, I’m now actually fucking concerned. Why are you this out of sorts over some random female whose first name you don’t even fucking know and that you’ll probably never see again?”
Both portions of his sentence sit so poorly that I instantly feel the pull to act on them. “Call security and get her first name.”
“You missed my fucking point.”
“No. I evaluated your fucking point and am correcting the vexations they are causing.”
“I’m not vexed.”
“Never said you were.” I pop off the edge of my desk and dart over to large window I’ve spent too much time staring out lately. “Call security.”
“You’re just gonna ignorare my question and concerns?”
“Sì.”
Yes.
Miko’s scoff of irritation appears at the same time I swing open the glass boundary.
What does he expect me to say?
That instead of being led by logic and decorum, the two pillars imposed on me from birth, I’ve abruptly abandoned them to follow a pure primal instinct? One that insists I have found a mate and that I should mount her and claim her and rip to pieces anyone or anything that threatens our union?
Yeah, I’m not saying that shit out loud.
I can internally hear how fucking absurd it sounds, vocalizing it would warrant a call to the Doctor, and that would absolutely make me look weak.
Which, again, I am not.
My stare lingers out the window at the empty courtyard that she’ll have to cross to get back to her vehicle. Miko’s rapidly tapping foot and displeased huff push me to playfully say, “And, why aren’t you calling security yet?”
“Fuck. Me. You were serious?”
“Yes.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Sul serio?”
I toss him a stern stare over my shoulder. “Sì.”
There’s a new fit of grumbles out of his mouth; however, they’re ignored for the small movement I catch out of the corner of my eye.
Quickly spotting the stunning woman walking the direction of her car, I brace my hands along the sill and call out, “Miss Brooks.”
She instantly ceases all movement yet takes a somewhat defensive combat stance.
Lord have mercy on what’s left of my soul.
I may not be weak, but this woman is indeed testing my strength.
How can I resist someone who possesses such a steady stream of fierceness?
The smile I was flaunting earlier doesn’t hesitate to make a reappearance. “Up.”
My word description snaps her head into the sky and eventually my direction. Her body slightly relaxes, however remains on alert from the way her keys are armed between her fingertips. “Yes, Mr. Bennett?”
“Benicio.”
Although she smiles, she doesn’t take the bait to offer up her name of her own accord.
“What time are you relieved of your duties at the office tomorrow?”
“Six.” Pride pierces itself through her posture. “I’m salary, so I more or less get to make my own hours, but I have learned from studying the many notes I’ve made that for the office to maintain functioning at its best and highest and most optimal capabilities, I shouldn’t step foot outside the door before then.”
I wasn’t lying before.
I am happy to have a dedicated employee like she appears to be.
I would just like to have her dedication be to me on a personal note.
What man doesn’t want that?
“I appreciate your commitment, Miss Brooks.”
“I appreciate your acknowledgement, Mr. Bennett.”
The rebuttal sends an unusual tingle through my system. “You’ll have dinner with me tomorrow at eight.”
“For business purposes?”
“For pleasure.”
Even from a distance it’s easy to see the affect simply hearing the words causes.
Fuck, I wish I was down there to add emphasis courtesy of my tongue and teeth and cock.
Miss Brooks’s grin grows crooked, and the keys in her hand are gestured my direction. “Have a good evening, Mr. Bennett.”
Her lack of agreement or refusal for some reason convinces my smile to stay; however, the sight of luxury vehicles entering the property promptly relieves it of its services. The obvious metaphor mamma would say life is presenting is not missed nor is it fucking welcomed. There’s no denying to my left lies discernable duty and responsibility and reason. Everything I have been bred and led to live my life to rule. And there’s no denying to my right is debauchery, spontaneity, and instinct embodied in a long-legged temptation. Everything I have been taught to suppress in order to be a more effective ruler when the day came.
Well.
The day is fucking here, and fifteen minutes with her are all it took to turn the monotonous routine I have the brass balls to call my life into something actually worth living.
Is it out of line to make the observation that a leader with more to live for will rule better and more effectively than one without?
Unsure if now is really the time for such philosophical deliberation, which would have me living up the “philosofucker” claim my cousin implied just minutes before anarchy was introduced into my steady life, I merely turn on my heels and announce. “The guests are arriving.”