He was going to be pissed, she figured. People didn't like to wait, men especially. She glanced up. Attractive men especially. She caught a glance of ... dark beard, trimmed short. Tanned skin, angular features. And bright blue eyes, of course. Because why would she leave Greasy Man Bun waiting when she could piss off this perfect specimen? She strode over, trying her best to look a little bit stressed, hurried. If she looked busy, he might pity her enough to still leave a decent tip."Sorry about. “I’m sure Demyan Ignatov will love it if you fuck his wife right before him. You could join them in their bed in the Kremlin.”“Indeed,” Henry said. “What man would welcome that perversity.”“Oh, he would welcome it,” I said. I winked at Henry. “And so would you. Your wife is a fine woman.”“There is no need to bring my wife into this!” he growled, true emotion flashing across his face. There was anger in there, but I could see something else. Fear. Not of me, but ... of himself. He shifted, his. More

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