Anything He Wishes (Billionaire BDSM Erotic Romance)

"It's your turn." 
Marie's smirk made me recoil
.  I rolled my eyes and turned back towards the dining room.  It was my turn to wait on Mrs. Fitch.  We all called her Mrs. Witch because that's what she was.  No matter how many times you repeated the order back to her and confirmed it, she always complained it was wrong.  ALWAYS.  It didn't matter who waited on her.  I shifted my weight as I
sharply
pulled down my vest and walked
tall
over to the table, trying my best to put on a smile.

"Good Afternoon, Mrs. Fitch.  So nice to see you today!" 

I tried to sound energetic. 

"I have a few others joining me shortly.  Do get me a brandy."
With a wave of her hand she shoo'd me away to fetch he drink.

Scurrying off to the bar, I made
sure to remember the water
she always requested later.  It was in her blood to make us run around like crazy and she looked like she enjoyed it.
  She never ordered it
at first
but she always wanted it so I figured I could save myself a trip.

By the time I returned to the table, her other guests had arrived, mos
t of which I had not seen
in the few months I had been there.
  They all looked like business men and women, in a sea of blue and grey suits and white dress shirts.  It was if they had no faces really.  They all seemed to blend together, except for Mrs. Fitch who wore a pastel green dress.  She loved her pastels.

"Good Afternoon.  My name is Jess.  Please allow me to get you a beverage."

A slurry of drink orders were tossed towards me as I
hurriedly
wrote them down, making sur
e to confirm them as they came.

"Oh, where is Nathan?  That boy is always late!"  Mrs. Fitch
barked as I turned on my heel and headed once again to the bar.

S
taring glassy eyed at the
side
door while waiting on my drinks
I could see the little peek of beach.  The sun glittered across the water and
I found myself daydreaming about lying out on the beach with some fruity drink with an umbrella and a pineapple in it, reading and enjoying life instead of being stuck inside waiting on the ungrateful.  My love/hate relationship with the rich made it easy to wish I was one of them, but at the same time loathe how most of them treated others.

"Jess...
you're ready to go.
"
  Said the voice pulling me back into reality.
Jake, the bartender and owners
son was a cute young thing.  To
young for me, but that didn't stop me from filling up a couple of nights fantasizing about having him in my bed. 
He had one of those
high and tight asses that made you want to attempt to bounce a quarter off of it.  I never saw him date
even though there were plenty of women that wanted to date him.

Everyone that worked with him knew he was gay,
n
ot that I cared.  He knew how to work a crowd and make the best drinks and
that is all that mattered to me
.
  Most of the older women flirted with him and he played along, letting them think he had a thing for them.  They threw money at him and he let them.  He knew he had a good thing going and he continued to play the game.

A strong sexy voice startled me from behind.  "Excuse me, I am here to meet with Mrs. Fitch.  Could you point me her direction?"

Quickly spinning, I was caught speechless at the masculine creature that stood before me. 
E
verything in the room
around
me
went
dark and all the light tunneled
in
on his face.  The dryness in my mouth prevented me from speaking as I found my brain searching for words.

"Uh, yeah.  I am taking these to her table now if you want to follow me."

I had never had butterflies in my stomach just from the vision of a man before.  It was like I was under some kind of spell. 
Jess, pull yourself together!

He leaned into my personal space and whispered in my ear.  "I would love to, Jessica."

"How did you know my name?"

His audible laugh tickled my insides as he pointed to my name tag.  The rush of embarrassed heat filled my face as I turned to grab the tray of drinks before I made a fool of myself any longer.

This was the man of my dreams.
  No
...
really.  I dreamt about him.  I had him all sketched out in my head when I was creating my dream board. 
Tall, dark and handsome.  Yeah, I know it is
cliché
, but that is what I wanted.

After watching several videos and reading about the Law of Attraction, I jumped on board like a lot of others did and tried to will and wish myself with the perfect job, the perfect man, the perfect everything.  Maybe I was doing it wrong, but nothing happened for me. 

In the process, I started imagining the perfect man.  Everything from the looks to the personality was laid out so that I would know for sure when he showed up.  Like that really mattered. 
Thick black hair, crystal blue eyes, dimples and
a body that looked
so yummy in a suit...or in anything
..
.
or nothing.

I put all that away a few years back after realizing that reality doesn't always work the way you think.  Like getting this job.  I never in a million years would have thought I would have been waiting tables for the rich at some swanky yacht club.  I had a high paying career working for a banker.  Life was going well, until the markets crashed and the bank was swallowed up by an even bigger bank. 

There went the cushy job and the paycheck that went with it.  I beat the pavement trying to find something...anything that would even remotely pay what I was ma
king.  It just wasn't happening and I didn't want to resort to something less dignified to earn a living.

One day I was so desperate I called that old boss and asked him if he knew of anyone that was hiring.  He told me the only thing he knew of was this place and he would put in a good word for me with the owner. It was a slap in the face, but times were tough, so I took it.

So here I am looking like a butler in my white button up top with the black bow tie and vest.  Great!  In walks the man of my dreams and I can't even make a good impression. 

Jet black hair cut short on the sides a
nd long on the top.  Chiseled face
and a sexy 'fuck-me-baby' smile.  Parts
of me
were
getting warm and tingly.
 
How can just looking at a man do
this to me?

I grabbed my tray and headed towards the dining room, the elegant stranger in tow.  As we got to the table I began to serve the drinks when I could see him lean over and give Mrs. Fitch a kiss on the cheek before heading around to his seat on the opposite side of the table.  How did he know this woman?  And why had I not seen him before?

Heading around to his side, I lean down and quietly ask if he
wants something to drink
.  The scent of his cologne hits me and I am briefly transported to some deserted island with him half naked laying on top of me in the sand
, the scent of wood and wild orchids in the salted air
and everything else a blur as I try to stay focused
.

"
Cognac
."  He breathes as he looks directly into my eyes and smiles.  The blueness of his eyes stuns me as try to edge out a smile and not look as though I am a deer in the headlights. 
His smile is warm and melting and I have a strong desire to taste his lips.
  There is something vaguely familiar about him, but I cannot place it.
 
I nod and head back to the bar.

"Jake!"  I whisper, "Who is that man that just sat at the table with Mrs. Fitch?"

"You mean the
hot
one in the blue Armani?  That is Nathan Ross.  THE
Nathan Ross.  Of Ross Industries & Mining, the biggest diamond mines in the state
s
.
"  Jake gushed.

When I was working at the bank, I had a lot of nice clothes and could hang with the rich and be taken seriously.  Not so much now. 

  Taking care of my dying mother used all of my savings
and I sold all of my expensive clothes just to keep going.  T
rying to look like I fit in wasn't going to happen with this crowd.
  And you
have to BE one just to be around them
or else you are chopped liver.

"I need a
Cognac
for Mr. Ross."

Jake poured the drink as I tried to put my happy face back on.  It was hard seeing the man of your dreams sitting at your own table and knowing that you will never be able to know what he is really like and if he meets up to your expectations.  At least I knew now that he actually existed.

I look over into the mirror behind the bar to see what I look like.  Crap.  My red tresses are all over the place and falling out of the clip. My mascara is smudged under my eyes.  Quickly, I check my teeth and lipstick as I try to make myself look as presentable as possible.  Realizing there is only so much I can do, I grab the tray and head back over to the table.

My stomach is in knots as I casually act like nothing is out of the ordinary. Everyone is carrying on and laughing at something Mrs. Fitch has said as I wait patiently for a break in the conversation.

As I sat the glass down I admired the thickness of his jet black hair.  It was slightly wavy and looked like it was gelled in place.  Longer on the top and shorter on the sides and back. 
The desire to run my fingers through it was intensely overwhelming
.

"Jessica!" the screeching sound of Mrs. Fitch's voice made me jump.

"Yes, Mrs. Fitch?"

"I am ready to order now!"

I took a deep breath as I concentrated on getting everyone's order
correct and even read it back to them to be clear
.  Especially Mrs. Fitch's.
 
If I could make it through just this once without having her complain about something, it would be a great day.

In between serving the salad and the main course, I tried to keep
myself from staring at him
.  It was almost like he was a magnet and I was being pulled into him.  Never in my life have I found it so hard to resist staring at a man before.

Most of the meal went without incident
and I was grateful that through the whole meal, Mrs. Fitch didn't complain about anything.  Perhaps it was because Mr. Ross was there, or perhaps it was something else, but I didn't care.  I would love to be the first server in the place to actually make it through an entire meal with her and no complaints.  Now THAT would be a first!