Empress

Chapter 3: Coffee Guy

Thank you guys SO much for 10k reads! I love you all so much. You guys motivate me to write faster I swear it! Sorry if I left you guys with the last chapter, I know ya'll want some hot and steamy sex in here and trust me, it will be coming. Next chapter should be coming around the end of next month unless I miraculously find time to write, but again I want to say I LOVE YOU!!

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to not be me. To have been born from another mother, from another father, and to not of have the spoiled life that I currently abuse. It would be poor, to say the least. For one the sex would be much, much worse without my subs. I would most likely live in New York, being the CEO of my own fashion magazine, but who knows, I could have ended up a crack addict, fucking puppies and kittens for a living.

My phone buzzes in my Burgundy Prada bag, pulling me out of my brooding mood. My ringtone is "Can you feel my Heart" by Bring Me the Horizon. It's my dad again, probably to remind me of the "family meeting" tomorrow.

Oh joy, a whopping 2 hours with my adoptive family. I'm just so ecstatic.

I groan, reluctant to see my sister Genevieve.

I exit the car and go back inside,

heading for the kitchen. I'm starved. I want a glass of Veuve Clicquot and an Old Homestead Steakhouse steak*, cooked medium rare.

I also want seven sweaty men, cooking me that steak in nothing but a damn apron.
That is what you would call, a fucking breakfast of champions.

I head to my study, knowing I have to finish the paperwork from the latest imports from Russia. Everyone has to adult sometimes. Before I know it, time has flown by, and I'm about to be late for a fitting with the seven.

12:00 already? Damn, where did the time go?

I'll barely have any time to get a dress. We have this yearly gala in the ballroom of an expensive hotel to help gain benefactors. I still haven't had time to buy a dress for the stupid event.

I'll have to finish this up tomorrow.

I stack the paperwork in a neat pile on my desk and head to my closet. I look through my closet and choose a tight black jumpsuit and black strappy heels. I take the stairs two at a time, heading to the Sevens' bedrooms. I knock on the door twice and then heads down to the front door where my chauffer is already waiting.

The others are soon dressed in street clothes and piled into the car behind me.

We soon arrive at a new high-end shopping mall. There has been news reports about the new tailor who has a shop here. He is said to be one of the best and I want him to make my men custom suits. Only the best of course.

We find a map of the mall and head in the direction of the tailors, me in my dazzling outfit that catches more than a few lingering stares, and the seven, joking around, acting like clique best friends. Not surprising since they're all fucking the same woman.

We get to the tailors and I begin discussing with the him how I want the suits to look on all seven of them. After coming to an agreement, the subs, one at a time, stand on a pedestal and get their measurements taken.

"Enjoying the view?" Says Dominic with a suggestive wink.

He flexes his sculpted body, showing off all his fine points.

I sigh, "Quit fooling around or when we get home, the canes come out," I glare at him, "for all seven of you."

He quickly shuts his mouth and returns to staring blankly at the 3-sided mirror in front of him. The tailor stops working for a second and stares at nothing, open-mouthed, then continues working like nothing happened.

"I have to go shopping for a dress, I should finish before you, so just wait for me here." I walk away without waiting for a response. I'm kind of stressed and honestly, because of Dominic, horny as hell.

I bet if I looked down, my nipples would be poking through my jumpsuit.

I, again, look at the map of the mall and head for a well-known, expensive gown boutique. On the way I see a coffee shop and stop in for some coffee, sweet and strong, just how I like it. I look at the time on my phone, it's 1:30.

I need to be out of here by 3 o'clock if I want to make it to my next meeting.

I speed up my walk, wanting to get to the damned shop ASAP.

My hand practically has 3rd degree burns from this cheap-ass coffee cup. I constantly switch hands, trying to minimize the damage. I take a left turn and continue my quick paced walk. I'm almost there, it's just around the corner. I continue to thing very horny thoughts, involving the cliche whips and chains.

I'm right in the middle of the foreplay, I'm taking the last turn to the right when I bump into someone. Suddenly my whole chest is burning. I look up to see the idiot I get to shout at for running into me and spilling my coffee. I look up to see a chest. A man's chest. A freakishly tall man stands in front of me, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans.

He is Hot. I mean like supermodel hot. Like hotter than my subs, hotter than the sun. My god I could bake cookies on his chest this man is STEAMY. This could all be the hormones talking, but right now I just want to bend him over and spank him.

However, my scalding breasts are preventing me from it. Looking him straight in the eyes and glaring, I put my finger in the middle of his chest, pushing into him with the full force of my body weight, all the while maintaining eye contact.

"Watch. Out. You. Motherfucker."

I poke him with each word, further emphasizing my words. At this point I don't even what to look at him. I want to go home and fuck. Go home and get screwed so hard, it wipes away this memory completely.

His face goes completely red, he stutters out a few syllables.

I push past the sorry excuse for a man.

"Oh geez, man I... Sorry."

I turn back to him, steam practically shooting out of my ears, "Sorry, MAN, but I can't do shit with 'sorry.'"

I walk away, No swaying, no strutting, not even an angry stomp. I walk away with, if anything, an awkward stagger. Like something is missing from in between my legs. Which in this situation, there is.

The crowd creates a large space around me, like I'm some kind of disease.

I feel the urge to just spit at them but instead I continue walking, unsuccessfully trying to regain my pride.

Eventually I find a decent looking store and head inside to buy some new clothes, fuck dress shopping today, Ill get one next week. After ducking into a nearby bathroom for a quick refresher, I head back to the tailors to regroup with Stephen and the others.

I walk into the tailors shop, the floors are made of velvet soft carpeting. Ichiro is standing on the pedestal now, getting his measurements taken.

"New outfit."

"I had a bit of a run-up with a pedestrian. Nothing to worry about. "

I casually pull out my phone and dial the driver, I want to get out of here once the boys are done with their measurements.

I hope and pray I never have to see that bastard again.

Music: Good Ol' Fashion Nightmare by Matt & Kim

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