Maceo (Filthy Rich Alphas)

“I bet you would.” Winking, I took a bite of the cheesecake. “I don’t take gifts from men or friends, without giving in return, and always on my terms. You want to do the work, then we’ll trade my labor for yours.”

The cheesecake melted in my mouth, lathering my tongue in cool, sugary goodness. It took everything in me to not shovel the whole slice into my stomach and then lick the plate.

Well, he definitely has taste when it comes to desserts.

I swiped some of the whipped cream with my finger and licked it off.

Maceo’s gaze never left my tongue. If I didn’t know any better, he may have been hypnotized.

“Do we have a deal?” I whispered.

“No.” He shifted his gaze back to my eyes. “I’m not accepting a deal where you have to trade labor with me or even exhaust your own resources. I don’t need a party.”

“It could be a birthday party or even a baby shower for a cousin or sister.”

“No.”

“Why? Because I’m giving you something in return. You would take the trade from your friend.”

He frowned. “You’re a woman.”

I giggled. “What does that matter?”

“I’m a traditional man.”

“Forget traditional. This is business among friends.” I tossed him a sly smile. “This is non-negotiable. I’m giving you two parties for your work on my business. Just give me two weeks in advance for when you want to have the parties. I’ll open up my club for you, provide the bar with liquor, and my wicked brothers will serve. I have an awesome DJ. He can come and perform. I’ll pay him. And surely if your female friends need entertainment, I can provide a few of my guys.”

“Your guys?” He grabbed his own fork and swiped a piece of my cheesecake. “Hmm, this is good.”

“It is.” I put my plate on the blanket between us. “Split it with me. I bet this is thousands of calories. I don’t need them all.” I sampled another bite. “Now do we have a deal? Two parties for the job. Nothing else is expected, no pretense of my panties or anything like that.”

“Back to your guys.” He took another piece of cheesecake. “Do you ever date them?”

“That’s pretty private.”

“Friends self-disclose.”

“Agree to my trade and then you’ll get an answer.”

“You’re stealing my moves.”

“They’re good ones. I had to.” I held my hand out to him. “Let’s shake on the deal for now. I’ll have my lawyer sign up a new agreement with all of those details put in. You sign. I sign. We’re all happy.”

“Fine,” he mumbled. “We’ll trade labor.”

“Good.”

“Now answer my question. Do you date your exotic dancers?”

A chunk of cheesecake stuck to his fork. He held it to his mouth and guided his tongue along each tine, gathering that sugary goodness with sex in each lick.

Maybe, my body reacted.

Maybe.

I simply did my best to ignore my traitor flesh as I took my wine and sipped it. He licked the fork some more. Little brushes of desire ran down my flesh. I looked away and focused on the sandwiches stacked on the plate next to us.

“Did you hear my question?” His words dripped with too much confidence. He needed a kick to get back down to reality.

“I don’t date my dancers.” I could’ve sworn I heard him sigh. “But I do usually fuck them.”

He choked a little and started coughing.

Picnic score. Maceo: 0, Christine: 1

When he finished he took a bottle of sparkling water, unwound the top, and almost finished half of the container within seconds.

“How was that for friendly self-disclosure?” I winked again.

“More than I could handle.” He set the bottle down. “How many?”

“What? Dancers I’ve slept with?”

“Yes.” He pierced me with his gaze. I wasn’t sure what lingered in his eyes. It wasn’t the cheeriness from earlier, but it didn’t seem to be disgust like most guys had when they realized I owned Sin.

“I don’t know. I’m not big on counting.”

“Oh you know.” He glided his finger along the bottle, tracking a line on the moist glass. “How many seized the opportunity to taste you?”

“Enough.”

“No. The answer isn’t enough, because if that were true, you wouldn’t be on the roof with me. You’d be in one of their arms.”

“I was never interested in anything more.”

“Because they weren’t worth it.”

“They were,” I lied.

He chuckled to himself. “I’m not judging, but I know an unsatisfied woman when I see one.”

“I’m more than satisfied.” I cut off a bigger chunk of cheesecake. “I have everything—”

“But my cock pumping into you just right.” He handed me his bottle as I choked and coughed.

Picnic score. Maceo: 1, Christine: 1

Waving him away, I cleared my throat while he formed his lips into a smile.

“Okay,” he said. “Maybe we should change the topic. The abovementioned member is very eager to show you that you’re wrong about being satisfied. I can’t let that happen. We’re only friends after all.”