Those Three Words: A Single Dad, Billionaire Boss Romance(41)

“Go close out your tab and head home. Your date with Margot is over.” I run my hands through my hair, exasperated that I’m standing here. I told myself not to get involved in her private life, especially on her day off, but I couldn’t shake the thought of her going home with another man.

“It’s not a date—never mind,” he mutters as he walks past me and back over to where Margot is sitting.

Not a date?

I follow behind him. I can see the angry expression on Margot’s face as I get closer to where she’s sitting on the barstool. Her dress has ridden up a little, exposing her thigh. It’s a simple black dress with a small slit on one side.

“What the hell is going on? Why are you here?” she snaps the moment I approach.

I reach down and grab the hem of her dress, pulling it down roughly, causing her to slip on the stool. She slaps my hand away.

“Hey, Margot, I’m heading home. I had a great time,” Hank says.

“What? It’s barely even ten; why are you leaving? Don’t leave because of him; he’s leaving,” she snaps, looking over at me, her eyes a little glassy from the alcohol.

“It’s okay, really. I’ve got a game tomorrow morning. I’ll be in touch.” He gives her a half hug, half pat on the back, clearly not wanting to further upset me, then takes off.

I turn to Margot, her eyes narrowed on mine. She points her finger in my chest.

“What the f—”

“Get your shit; we’re leaving,” I say, cutting her off.

“No. No, it’s my night off and I’m having fun. I’m not leaving.” She grips the edge of the stool and stomps her feet down on the lower rung.

We stare at each other for a moment.

“Why are you here?” she asks a little calmer this time.

“It was late. You were clearly ignoring my texts, and I don’t trust Hank.”

I don’t mince words and I’m not going to pretend I’m here for any other reason.

She smiles.

“What?”

“You were jealous.”

“Not even close,” I lie as I pull the stool next to her a little closer before taking a seat.

“Whatever. But that was rude. Hank is a good guy and he’s a friend. Just a friend.”

“Then why’d you tell me you were on a date with him?” I motion to the bartender and he leans in to take my order. “Bourbon, McKenna, neat.”

She just shrugs. “Looks like you wanted to make me jealous.”

“He’s dating my friend. They’re having some issues and I was just offering some advice since I set them up.”

I reach for her untouched glass of water and bring it to her hands. “Drink,” I command.

“You know, you—”

“Drink it. All of it now. I won’t say it again.” This time she obeys. When she’s done, I hand it to the bartender to refill as he places my bourbon down.

I can feel her looking at me out of the corner of my eye. She’s spun her barstool to face me, her knees pushing against my thigh.

“Still wearing a tie, I see?” I watch as she places one hand on my thigh while reaching across me with her other hand to grab my tie. She leans closer, flipping it over to reveal the red, green, and gold logo.

“Gucci, of course.” She slips it through her fingers before letting it fall back down against my chest, her hand still resting on my thigh.

I like her a little tipsy. She’s not drunk; she just had enough that her inhibitions are clearly down… not that I would take advantage of that. I drag my eyes away from where her hand is burning through my pants to her exposed thigh. She crosses her leg, her dress riding up a little further. I swallow, my mouth salivating at the thought of dragging my tongue up her skin.

“See something you like?” She’s watching me. Fuck it. I don’t care if I’m being obvious. I let my gaze linger before slowly letting my eyes drift to hers.

I glance at my watch. “We should get home; it’s late.”

“I told you I’m not ready to leave. I’m off tomorrow so I can sleep in. Besides, you haven’t finished your drink yet.”

It feels a bit awkward between us, the air thick with innuendo, but for the first time in my life, I don’t have a fucking clue what to say to break the tension.

“Hank asked me if we’ve slept together.”

That’ll do it. I swallow down the bourbon in my mouth, savoring the burn. I don’t say anything; I just turn my head to look at her.

“I told him no, you were too scared to even kiss me.”

Well, fuck me.

“Why are you scared to kiss me?” She takes the tumbler from my hands, her fingers softly grazing mine. She brings it to her lips and takes a drink, her eyes never leaving mine.

“I practice discretion, Margot.”

“Oh, I’m Margot again. And that’s not an answer to my question.” She leans forward. “Graham.”

The way she says my name sends a lightning bolt straight to my cock. That’s the first time I’ve heard her say it and fuck me, I want to hear her moaning it, screaming it as I destroy her tight little pussy.

“Let’s play a game.”

“A game?” I arch an eyebrow.

“It’s a drinking game we played in college. Called truth or drink or truth or shot.”