DEMETRIA“A date?” I asked, arms folded, pinning him with a stare.“Yes. Wildfire. A date.” His lips curved into a smile, and damn it, my pussy reacted before my brain could catch up. I shook my head hard.“If you think you’re going to blackmail me now that the gala’s a go—just to make me go out with you—then I’ll decline, Marion.” My words came out clipped, sharp.“And why would I do that?” He tilted his head, a smirk carved on his mouth like it belonged there.I shrugged. “Just because you’re capable, Marion Whitfield.”“Hmmm. I see.”He slid his phone out of his suit pocket, tapping the screen like I wasn’t even there. Focused. Effortless. And yet, I found myself watching him and admiring him.His hair was slightly overgrown, strands brushing his thick brows as though he’d run his hand through it too many times. His blue-black three-piece suit fit like it had been stitched onto him, sculpting broad shoulders and that lean, impossible frame. And then there was the diamond-crusted wa
MARIONThe jet wheels screeched against the tarmac, a smooth landing slicing through the calm of the L.A. morning. From my window, Los Angeles brightened like a canvas washed in gold. The sky stretched wide and endless, a pale blue brushed with faint wisps of white clouds, while the sun cast a warm glow that shimmered across the skyline.The air outside looked crisp and clear, the kind of morning where the city felt alive and buzzing, already thrumming with energy even before nine. No haze today—just sharp light, palm trees swaying lazily, and that endless California brightness. Perfect weather for beginnings. Yes, perfect weather for facing the woman who had somehow made me agree to a second tasting.I straightened my cufflinks, rolling my shoulders back. Business first. That was the rule. The casino in Vegas had drained a piece of my weekend, but that was part of the empire, part of what I was built for. Now, it was time to switch gears.The bakery.I let the word settle, almost amu
DEMETRIAThe bell above the bakery door jingled as my last customer left, arms full of pastry boxes tied neatly with gold string. I exhaled, leaning against the counter, the weight of the day finally settling into my bones. Saturdays were supposed to feel lighter, but with Monday looming ahead, it didn’t. At least Anastasia should be in any moment now—I needed the distraction. Plus, we closed at 4:00 p.m. on Saturdays, and Lord knows I was ready to lock up and sprint home.The first tasting with Mrs. Whitfield had gone better than I expected. She’d been warm, gracious even, which honestly shocked me. The woman radiated the kind of elegance that made you feel like you should stand straighter, maybe even wear pearls to speak to her. And then—like it was nothing—she handed me a thousand dollars, just as a small compensation. My jaw had almost dropped when I opened it in my car, but I held it together. Barely.But of course, leave it to her son, Marion Whitfield, to complicate things. He
MARIONI tossed my phone onto the leather seat of my SUV, jaw tightening as the city, Las Vegas, blurred past the window. I preferred to come in the morning because it’s much quieter in the casino as compared to nighttime. The flight is just an hour from LA, and I flew in my own jet.I hadn’t planned to call her. Hell, that’s not my thing. I've been thinking about her as soon as I jetted off from Los Angeles. The passionate kiss we shared is still lingering in my mind. Those soft pillow lips of hers.The sound of her voice… low, guarded, like she didn’t know whether to curse me out or moan my name through the phone—fuck. It crawled under my skin and settled there.The way she demanded to know how I got her number? Cute. Like she didn’t already know I could get anything I wanted if I wanted it bad enough. Marcel helped with that through his hacking skills. And right now, I wanted her.I leaned back, running a hand over my face, a smirk tugging at my lips.She thought she was in contro
DEMETRIA“DEMETRIA!”. Anastasia shouted as she walked into my apartment. I was in my kitchen making a cup of coffee to get my day started. Who told me going to the club last night was a good idea? “Girl, why are you so energetic this morning? I still have a hangover”. “You have a hangover from whatever you did with Marion, don't blame it on me.” She laughed at my predicament. The moment she said that, flashes of last night came rushing back.“Okay… I see you. Look at your cheeks turning red. Spill now!” She said, tapping on the counter.“He fingered me and brought me to an orgasm. Multiple times, girl,” I confessed, covering my cheeks with my hands as I leaned against the counter.“Go girl!”I laughed, shaking my head while sipping my coffee.“How was your experience with him?” She pressed.“Argh, I was on cloud nine, girl. His kisses alone had me soaking my panties so bad. The moment he brought me to my first orgasm, I couldn't feel my legs”.“Atta girl! Better than Mark?”“Girl, he
MARIONI opened Mikhail’s office door, allowing Demetria to step out first. I turned to Cyprian, standing there smirking at us.“Damn, my man. You were busy in there, huh?” He teased while staring between Demetria and me. He extended his hand to Demetria. “Hello, nice to meet you mi lady”. I chuckled lowly, shaking my head.Demetria tilted her head to look at him. “Do I know you from somewhere? You look familiar.”“That’s Cyprian Watson”. I announced“Wow, nice to meet you. I love your movies. I’m Demetria Hernandez.” She said, shaking his hand.“It’s my pleasure to entertain you, ma’am”. He flirted, kissing the back of her hand.“Take your filthy mouth off her. Nobody knows what it has touched today”. I gazed lowly, staring at him. I felt possessive about her. I want her for myself, no other man, not even my best friend.“At least, he’s a gentleman”. She shot back at me, smiling ruefully.“Wildfire- ”“Wildfire? Damn. You’re stuck with him if he’s given you a nickname already. I need