The Tyrant (Banker 3)

“Just stating the obvious. You’re handsome and a rich guy. You don’t need to pay for sex.”

“You’ve paid for sex.”

“That’s just for the really kinky shit.”

“I like kinky shit too.” He put his cigar in his mouth. “So, can I bring the hooker with me to dinner?”

I glared at him. “You think Mother would like that?”

He shrugged. “You’re her favorite, so what does it matter?”

“No. Siena isn’t going to want to cook for a hooker.”

“Whoa, hold on.” He dropped the cigar into the ashtray and knocked off all the ash. “What happened to Giovanni?”

“Siena gave him the day off.”

“Uh, who does she think she is? What the hell are we gonna eat? Giovanni is the best.”

I shrugged. “She said she can cook.”

“What? Mac and cheese?”

I kept smoking my cigar. “She’s cooked for me a few times, actually. She’s good.”

“But it’s Christmas. She’s ruining tradition.”

“It’s what she wanted. Giovanni has worked every Christmas since I can remember. Giving him the day off isn’t ridiculous.”

“But he could make the food in the morning and then leave. We can pop that shit in the microwave.”

“Bates, it’ll be fine. You don’t even care about Christmas.”

“I care about the food,” he snapped.

“You have your own chef.”

“But she’s no Giovanni. If you ever fire him, I’m taking him.”

“Well, I’m never going to fire him,” I countered.

“You fired him on Christmas…”

“Siena did. I didn’t.”

“Does she run the house?” Bates finished his cigar and left the remains in the ashtray.

“Don’t start with me, Bates. We just started getting along.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I just don’t like it when someone fucks up our traditions.”

“You haven’t tried her cooking. Maybe it’ll be better.”

“Yeah…better than Giovanni’s,” he said sarcastically. “Sure…”

It was the first time I’d woken up on Christmas morning with a woman beside me.

A beautiful, pregnant woman.

Her hair was all over my shoulder, and her body was tangled with mine. The heater kept the house at the optimal temperature, but she still sucked the heat from my body like she was freezing.

I opened my eyes and stared at her for a while.

Her hand moved to her stomach, and she opened her eyes as she felt the baby kick. “She’s awake…”

“Because it’s Christmas.” My hand moved over her belly. Her stomach wasn’t really that big, but she was so petite that she looked enormous right off the bat. “Or she’s just hungry.”

She chuckled. “Maybe it’s that.” She moved her hand over my chest as she snuggled closer to me. “Merry Christmas.”

I brushed my lips across her hairline. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Let’s go downstairs and open presents and have some breakfast.”

“What about sex?”

She chuckled. “Can we have sex later?”

“Why?” My favorite thing about waking up in the morning when I didn’t have to go to work was sex. I wasn’t in a hurry, so I could take my time, really enjoy that cunt that made me a better man.

“Alright. How do you want it?”

“The same way I always want it.” I moved on top of her and settled between her thighs. My cock found her slick entrance, and I moved inside like a jetliner landing on a runway—completely smooth.

She locked her ankles together at my lower back and gripped the backs of my shoulders. “Yes…”

When we went into the kitchen, Giovanni had breakfast on the counter, the plates covered with foil. There was also a note.

Sorry, Mr. Marino. Couldn’t resist.

-Gio

She tore off the foil and eyed the scrambled eggs, bacon, and waffles. “Now that’s what I call a breakfast.” She grabbed a strip of bacon and took a bite out of it, the crunch audible between her teeth. “It’s so good, I’m not even mad.”

I didn’t eat shit like this for breakfast, but since it was Christmas, I made an exception. I grabbed a strip of bacon and ate it. “Not bad.”

Siena made me a cup of coffee, and we sat together at the counter and ate our breakfast.

I sipped my coffee while I looked at her, wearing my sweatpants and one of her tank tops. She had to roll the top of the pants twenty times so they wouldn’t drag across the floor, but she somehow made it look cute anyway.

“I got a gift for you.” She tore a piece of her waffle and dunked it in the syrup.

“You did?”

“Yep.”

“Hope it’s slutty.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not.”

“Then I don’t want it.”

She smacked my arm playfully. “Shut up. That’s not the only thing you care about, and you know it.” She carried our dishes to the sink before she returned to me. “Let’s open gifts. I have to start cooking soon.”

“Really? It’s ten in the morning.”

“The turkey takes a long time.”

“You know there’s only four of us, right?” Unless my brother really did bring that hooker.

“Still takes a long time.” She walked up to the tree then grabbed the small gift bag from the ground. She placed it in my hands. “It’s not much, but I think you’ll like it.”