The Dictator (Banker 2)

He came up behind me and looked at the screen. “That’s a girly crib.”

“Which is fine because we’re having a girl.”

“What makes you so sure?” He took the seat beside me. I had my back against the armrest with my feet stretched out over the cushions, so he lifted my legs and placed them on his lap. He was in his sweatpants without a shirt, the signature outfit he wore late in the evening before bed.

“A mother’s instinct.”

“You’re barely pregnant.”

“Doesn’t matter. I just know.”

He rested one hand around my ankle while his other arm lay over the back of the couch. “Even if it’s a girl, that crib is way too girly. I’m not raising a spoiled princess.”

“She’s gonna be spoiled no matter what you do, unfortunately.” If she grew up in this mansion and watched her father run the biggest bank in the world, she would be a bit entitled. It wasn’t the life I wanted for her, but there was nothing I could do about it.

“Well, she’s not gonna be an annoying princess.”

I liked that—a lot. “Alright. Forget the pink crib.” I looked through the other selections. “Where will the baby’s room be?”

“Next to mine. There’re a few vacant rooms on this floor.”

If it was on this floor, it would be easy access from my room.

Cato watched the TV while I continued with my online shopping. Like a couple unwinding after a long day of work, we sat together in comfortable silence. His hand moved to my foot, and he started massaging it.

My head immediately rolled back, and I closed my eyes. “Oh…”

He chuckled. “You don’t even make that noise during sex.”

“Because sex has never felt this good.”

He used his other hand and got into the soles of my feet, rubbing the small muscles and even the pads of my toes. His big hands were perfect for the job, perfect for eliminating the tension. “You have cute feet.”

“I know.”

He chuckled. “You know?”

I shrugged. “You aren’t the first person to tell me that.”

“Really? Who else has given you that compliment?”

“Well, the first person was my mother. And I’ve had a few lovers tell me the same.”

His hands stopped working.

I opened my eyes and looked at Cato, seeing him stare at my feet with a distinct look of irritation. “What?”

His fingers started working again. “Nothing.” He still wore that agitated expression.

“Cato Marino, are you jealous?”

“I just think it’s inappropriate to mention old lovers when we’re having a baby.”

“Inappropriate?” I laughed sarcastically as I sat up and pulled my feet away. “You brought two skanks here just a few weeks ago—while my room was down the hall. You want to talk about inappropriate? I had to get naked and agree to a threesome to get it to stop. So if I want to tell you that my other lovers thought my feet were cute, I will.”

He turned my way slightly but didn’t continue the argument.

“But I’ll admit it’s sexy watching you get jealous.”

“Not jealous.”

“You get pissed when I mention other men. That’s the definition of jealous.”

He faced the TV again, his jaw clenched. “It was just unexpected.”

“What? Did you think I was a virgin?”

“Fucking you for the first time would have been a lot more difficult if you were.”

“I think it’s obvious I’m experienced. The sex wouldn’t be so good if I weren’t.”

His jaw clenched again. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Wow…you’re really jealous.” I couldn’t wipe off the smile that formed on my face. “I can’t even imagine how many women you’ve been with, and you don’t see me getting jealous.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Why? Because I’m a woman and you’re a man?”

“No.” He kept his eyes on the TV even though he clearly wasn’t watching it.

“Then what’s the difference?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

He slowly turned back to me, his eyes narrowed. “Those women meant nothing to me. You had relationships with those men, real feelings. You had connections and secrets. You had enough conversations that they had the opportunity to compliment your feet. That’s the difference. So, no, I don’t want to hear about the men you used to love.”

“Love?” I asked incredulously. “I admit the relationships were longer than one-night stands, but I’ve never been in love before. I’ve never told a man I loved him.”

The rage reduced from an inferno to a simmer. “I’m surprised. You’re so perfect, you could have the man of your dreams in a heartbeat. You could settle down and have the family you’ve always wanted.”

I smiled as I listened to him. “You think I’m perfect?”

“I’ve never been monogamous before. I think that testifies to my opinion of you.”

“I thought that was just your obsession with my cunt.”

His eyes darkened as he looked at me. “It’s the whole package, baby.”

It was hard to believe this was the same man I’d observed in the bar. The one making out with two women in a row even though he’d barely said hello. He was the same man who confronted me outside that coffee shop and subtly threatened me. He was an arrogant and standoffish asshole. But now he was kind, affectionate, and romantic. I dropped my phone on the cushion then crawled onto his lap. I straddled his hips and sat on his dick. It wasn’t big yet, but within seconds, it would be. My arms wrapped around his neck and I kissed him.