I’m gonna be twenty minutes late for work, and for once I don’t even care.

Not even a lecture from Max will kill my perfect mood.

Despite getting all of three hours of sleep and having only half an hour at my place to get ready for my shift, I feel like I’m floating as I drive to the Millennium.

The sex was amazing.

Maddox is amazing.

We’re amazing.

It was hours of sex and deep conversations, repeated in a cycle until we were literally too exhausted to fuck and talk any more.

Sure, I’m feeling it today, but the soreness will go away.

What happened last night won’t.

Every time as we talked after having sex, his cock would eventually grow erect again. At one point, the pre-cum was actually dripping. “I think you sprang a leak,” I said.

He responded with the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me: “You can’t fool this thing. It knows what it wants, and how badly it wants it.”

I grinned. “So it likes me?”

He hesitated, then said with a serious tone, “I’m not sure, but I think it loves you.”

Looking back on it, I thought he was just talking about his cock, but there was something in his eyes that made it seem like more.

Much more.

There’s no confusion whatsoever on my part, though. None at all. Not a bit.

I’m head over heels in love with this man.

I knew there was a physical attraction the moment I saw him walk into the LDB. But since then I’ve learned that despite his overwhelming confidence, he’s also kind and respectful. And he’s handsome, incredibly sexy, and has a big beautiful cock.

My god, what woman wouldn’t want all that in one man?

The fact that he’s wealthy is secondary. I have no doubt I would love Maddox even if he was just a croupier or a casino security guy.

And I think, I hope, I pray that he loves me, too.

Because if he doesn’t, I’m in serious trouble.

I swerve into the employee parking lot and rush inside. Of course Max is waiting for me, because that’s pretty much the part of the job he likes best: berating the girls who work for him. He lectures me about being late while simultaneously ogling my body, making me feel weird about the very clothing item that gives the bar its name. One of these days, the LBD cocktail girls are going to start their own #MeToo movement and get this idiot fired. For now, though, nobody wants to lose her job, including me. So I just stand there and let him vent and try to covertly look at my tits until he tires of it.

Scarlett is already on duty. Lila is, too, and Brynne will be here after lunch. The LBD starts to get weekend-busy on Friday afternoons.

“Where have you been?” Scarlett is a little irritated because she’s had to pick up my tables.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I stayed with Maddox.”

She gives me a concerned look. Scarlett is always watching out for me. Always. Even when I’d rather she not be. But I love her to death and know that she does it out of concern for me.

“I take it things went well?”

“It was perfect,” I reply. Scarlett raises an eyebrow to ask the all-important question. “We did,” I admit. “I trusted him, and he didn’t let me down. It was wonderful and amazing and hot and romantic and sexy and… perfect.”

She smiles and gives me a huge hug, her big boobs pushed up against me. “I want to hear all about it later. Every goddamn detail, okay?” I grin and nod in agreement. “Okay, you’ve got people at two tables. Don’t worry about splitting the tips.”

I grab my tray and order pad and head toward the first table, taking drink orders for a cute couple. When I get to the other table, I realize it’s two of Maddox’s friends, the ones he was sitting with the day we met. There’s the girl and one of the guys. There are three glasses on the table, though, and an unattended cell phone.

“Everyone doing okay?” I ask.

The looks I receive in return are weird. It’s hard to put my finger on it, but something’s not right. The guy stifles a laugh before he says, “I’ll have another vodka tonic, please.” Meanwhile, the woman is on her phone, holding up a finger to signal me she’ll just be a second.

As I wait, the guy says, “So how are you this morning? Do anything fun last night?”

Before I can consider answering, the phone sitting on the table lights up and I see a text screen. I can only see four short texts, but they freeze my blood.

You: You’re late. You fuck tattoo girl last night?

Maddox: No, I didn’t.

You: LOL That means you owe us 30 grand. A bet’s a bet.

Maddox: Whatever. I’ll find u later.

Forgetting all about the woman’s drink order, I turn back toward the bar. Halfway there, I pass the other guy, the owner of the phone. He gives me a strange smile and I run the rest of the way, ducking through the kitchen doors into the back. Scarlett must have seen me because she’s there immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

I can’t speak because I’m suddenly wracked with gigantic sobs.

I gave Maddox the most sacred part of me: my trust. And it was all for a bet?

Sleeping with me was a bet?

Scarlett wraps me up in a hug and I cry my eyes out on her shoulder until Max shows up.

“What the hell are you doing? There are customers out there.”

“Back the fuck off, Max!” Scarlett shouts in the meanest voice I’ve ever heard from her.

She sounds so vitriolic that Max timidly backs up a few feet.

“Well, hurry it up,” he says as he leaves.

I only have time to tell Scarlett about the texts, but she can see the effect it’s having on my emotions. “We’ll talk it over later,” she says calmly, running a hand through my hair. “For now, we’ll switch sections. Don’t go back to that table.”

The plan works for a while. I’m a fucking zombie and running on autopilot, and every time I look in the direction of that table I get pissed off and hurt and humiliated all over again. Eventually the two men and the woman leave, but that doesn’t change my mood.

What the actual fuck? How could I have been so stupid?

Maddox has “player” written all over him. How did I not see that?

With only two hours left before the end of my shift, I start to think I’ll survive. Then I can go home and drink and begin once again to try to convince myself that not all men are assholes.

But the truth is, they are. Every fucking one of them. Even Maddox Ramsey.

I’m standing at the bar waiting for Mike to fill a drink order when Scarlett is suddenly at my side.

“Trust me on this, Tempest. Leave your tray and head straight to the break room for twenty minutes. Do not turn around. I’ll cover your tables.”

What the hell is going on? Of course I have to turn and look if she tells me not to.

That’s when I see him.

Maddox.

Smiling at me like the cat who ate the canary.

I head towards him and Scarlett’s arms are immediately around me. I break her grip and steam across the floor.

“You sorry motherfucker!” I scream, getting the instant attention of everyone in the bar.

Maddox looks confused, but before he can even utter a word I’m there in front of him. What was originally meant to be a vicious slap turns into a half-slap, half-punch as I haul off and whack him on his right cheek bone. As his head spins, I bring the top of my foot up hard, kicking him squarely in the balls.

He releases a sound like I’ve never heard a man make, then doubles over. I’m about ready to slap-punch him again when Scarlett and Lila both grab me and pull me away. Mike the bartender is there to get in between me and Maddox, and Max shows up, yells at me that I’m fired, and immediately starts sucking up to Maddox.

I don’t care about starting a scene. I don’t care about losing my job. I tell myself I don’t even give a shit about Maddox, although the tightness in my chest let’s me know I’m lying.

So that’s how my Friday afternoon went.

I’ve had better.