𝐎𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐫

06:guilty pleasure

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍

One minute her lips were on mine then the next minute she was fucking running away from me. Did I do something wrong?

She was stubborn and independent, I loved that about her. She was the only girl that didn't fall head over heels for me as soon as they met me. But she was the only girl I had fell head over heels for. It was as if I was getting a taste of my own medicine, I didn't like it.

When she ran from my office, I felt a unfamiliar, odd longing clutch at my heart. When I saw her I wondered what it would be like to bask in her affection.

Her lips were lovely. Full and soft, kissable. Sinful temptation, like the rest of her body with its graceful curves and its power to make me lose control. From what I recalled of the short moment I got to hold her, her silk was as soft as silk.

"You being pussy drunk isn't doing well for business" I heard Marley say from behind me.

I turned back and glared at him. I had stopped running after her when she ran outside. He raised a eyebrow at me as if he was confused.

"Fuck me" he laughed, "you haven't fucked her have you" he asked. My jaw clenched at the way he spoke about her, as if she was some fuck toy.

I lost my shit when JJ referenced to her as a slut. Fucking prick. But she did enough damage to him, I had to hold back a laugh when she punched him. I'm pretty sure she broke his nose.

"Don't talk about her like that asshole" I grunted as I shoved past him to go back inside. I heard his footsteps follow behind me.

"Don't tell me the Christian Greyson has feelings for a girl" he caught up behind me.

"Shut the fuck up" I told him and he immediately backed down. Bitch boy. I pushed past some drunk people as I walked to the back of my club, some giving me glares. I pushed a door open which led downstairs, Marley following behind me.

"We've made £500k tonight already" he spoke up as we walked downstairs into my speakeasy. When I brought this place, the downstairs basement was a liquor room. But after some refurbishing, I had it changed into one of my speakeasies.

When we got down there it was more full than usual. Many rich men fill the room with there trophy wife's by their sides.

"Carter is covering the next game against Jonathan Diaz" a smirk appeared on my face when he mentioned the name of Jonathan Diaz, he was a egotistical man who always bid hundreds of thousands. But of course he was never going to win which made it funny.

As we stood at the bottom of the stairs, Jonathan approached us with a smirk on his face and a cocktail in his hand. He was in a, what looked like, expensive suit with his wife by his left.

"Mr Greyson, it's always a honour" Jonathan's voice piped up as he stood in front of me. He held his hand out for me to shake. I took his hand and gave it a friendly shake. I couldn't stand him but he made business good.

"Here again Jonathan" I asked as he chuckled.

"And I won't stop until I win some good money" he said and he gave me a cocky smile. Yeah good luck with that dickhead.