C.R.I.M.S.O.N

R.E.G.R.E.T

Charlie's POV:

After leaving the club on Sunday. I regretted not hearing Asher out. But was thankful i thought with my head and not my vagina because that hangover would've been the death of me.

And probably my vagina.

It was currently 7am, me adding a few pointless timers of 3 minutes onto my alarm because i was actually dying of fatigue.

"WAKE THE FUCK UP WE HAVE WORK!!" Mila bursts through my door and begins jumping on my bed.

Groaning and burying my head between my mattress and pillows i mumble: "how the hell do you have this much energy at 7am Mills. We were literally out till 1 you fucking crazy woman."

"Shut the fuck up, you have 50 minutes. Up!" She tugs my duvet off of me.

"Buco del culo.." I grunt in italian.

translation- asshole.

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Mila and I walk into Bennie's - which is as busy as it always is on a Monday. We walk through the back into the staff room and put on our uniforms.

Tight fitting black tee-shirts (with collars) and the Bennies logo along with black jeans. We had small aprons to wear too, that were equipped with small satchels at the front.

I head to my first table of the day.

"Hi! Welcome to Bennie's what can i-"

I'm cut short by the realisation of who's sat at the table.

Asher.

"Ciao principessa." Asher winks.

"Asher?! What the hell are you doing here?!"

"Tesoro you though i was just going to let you get away that easy? Even if you don't realise it right now, i saved your fucking life last night."

translation- hello princess.
sweetheart.

"So?! I had the situation handled until you came bursting into the scene like you fucking own the place!" I whisper yell so i don't bring any unwanted attention to our moderate kerfuffle.

"Maybe it's because i do."

"Do what??" i ask him.

"Own the place. The club, the restaurant. It's mine principessa." He glances up from his hands where he was fiddling with his rings. It is only now i realise how hot he looks.

He's wearing a black dress shirt, matching black dress trousers and smart shoes. His top few buttons are undone revealing a bare chest, free from tattoos.

If i was to guess from his inked hands i would've bet he was covered in them. Chest included.

His hair was fluffy but well kept. I took a breath and i smelt his wood and mint aftershave. Shit he smells good. His eyes met mine. His eyelashes so full and dark, more naturally curled than mine. Jealous.
He had silver and black jewellery on. A chain around his neck, rings on the majority of his fingers, designed in different ways.

I could imagine his inked hands choking m-

"Done staring tesoro?" He smirks again.

"Buco del culo." I mumble under my breath. "Asher of you have something so important to discuss, you'll have to wait. I' m at work if you didn't notice that already. Par merde."

translation- for fuck sake.

"I understood the asshole bit, didn't quite catch what you said at the end though bambola, French was it??"

"Smettila con i fottuti nomi. È Charlie. Nient'altro. Capito?" I say sternly in italian.

translation: Stop with fucking names. It's Charlie.. Nothing else. Got it?

"Yes Charlie." He follows.

"Good, now if your honestly so desperate to talk to me, for whatever reason. You can fucking wait. Not the first time a man has come in here trying to order me the fuck about." I say, gathering the menus from the table.

I glance at him, his jaw clenched at the mention of another man.

He abruptly stands, grabbing my forearm on the process. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" I whisper yell again.

He remains silent l, turning us into the storage room of Bennie's. He closes and locks the door, before trapping me between his arms.

"I don't know if you know who i am sweetheart, but you really have a nerve to be telling me what to do. Wanna know what happens to people who try to order me about?"

I clench my jaw to stop myself from cussing this hot lunatic out.

"They get killed." He says. With no emotion.

I scoff. This doesn't seem to please Asher.

"You know Charlie-" He raises his hand and places his thumb along my bottom lip, pulling it down before letting it bounce back up- "this mouth could get you into some serious trouble."
I glare at him, astounded and turned on from the small action. His gaze meets mine. His eyes were filled with curiosity, danger and mystery. And i think that's what was so mesmerising about him.

I bite my lip and his eyes shift. He pushes back on his arms, giving himself a better angle of my body. His brown eyes shift up and down my torso, down my legs and then back to my face again. He matches the act and bites his own lip. I smirk.

He thinks he was enough authority to come into my workplace and tell me what fits him?! He's killed people.

But so have i.

"Asher bébé." I say seductively, i lift my arms and begin twirling a sparse piece of hair that had fell onto his forehead, "I don't know, or care for who you are-" I let my hand fall slowly down his body, resting it on the side of his ribs- "All i know is-" i raise myself high enough so my lips reach his ear, i press a small kiss on the spot and he groans - "I don't give a fuck."

I bite his earlobe and push his body back. Before turning to leave, i notice his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. As if he was in denial of my disobedience.

I unlock the final latch on the door and storm into the kitchen. Grabbing my bag and heading to the smoking lounge.

I've met the fucker twice. And he's left me angry and horny.

Twice.

Vaffanculo ho bisogno di un drink.

translation- fuck me i need a drink.