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The perky blonde girl brings us our drinks, and we toast silently. Emilia’s eyes glow when they meet mine, though I notice how they shift back and forth as if the attention her presence earns makes her uncomfortable. It’ll take time for her to get used to it. I trust she will. She can do anything.
I’ve taken a deep, warming sip from my glass before Emilia’s frantic tugging at my sleeve steals my attention. “Oh my God,” she shouts over the music, staring past me toward the VIP area. “Is that who I think it is?”
I look over her head to find a few NFL players seated there. Considering the activity around their table, they’re feeling very generous with their money tonight. “Looks like it,” I confirm, grinning down into her shining, flushed face. “I didn’t know you followed football.”
“Are you kidding? These guys are all over the place… TV, interviews, articles.” I never took her for someone who’d care about celebrities, but then I suppose there will always be a moment of weak-kneed excitement over encountering athletes with Hall of Fame potential.
“You want to meet them?” I’m already tugging her along with me, enjoying how she stammers and blushes. “Hey, this is what they call a fringe benefit. Enjoy it,” I urge with a grin.
Two of the guys sit a little straighter on our approach, and the recognition in their expressions tells me they’ve done their research. They know who owns this place and that I’m due the sort of respect they normally have heaped on them by low-level, sniveling assholes thrilled to death that such big names would grace their establishment.
That’s not to say I’m blasé about the whole thing. “Whatever you gentlemen want tonight, it’s on the house,” I tell them, shaking my head and waving my hands when they protest. “I insist. It’s a pleasure having you here.”
That’s how I feel until I notice the third member of their group and the way his attention has fallen on the woman at my side. He jerks his chin at her and crooks a finger from where he’s seated in the booth. “Why don’t you hang out here with me?” he asks, flashing a bright smile and reaching out, running his hand down her arm.
The room goes red as suddenly as if someone had flipped a switch. There’s a roaring in my ears like that from an approaching train as I nudge a silent Emilia aside. “Out!” I bark. “Get your ass out of here and never come back. Go, or I’ll break your fucking neck.”
“Whoa, whoa!” The other guys try to laugh it off. One of them makes the mistake of clapping a hand over my shoulder, which I quickly throw off, glaring at him until he backs down.
Turning back to the booth, I thrust an arm toward the door. “I’ll have you thrown out on your ass if you don’t go on your own. Make your choice, fucker.”
He shoves his large frame out of the booth, glaring at me. I’m guessing this is supposed to be threatening, like I’m going to suddenly remember who I’m dealing with when he unfolds his body and stands a head taller than me and probably sixty pounds heavier, at least. “You know who I am? You know who I play for?” he demands with a scowl while his buddies try to get him moving. They understand the danger they’re flirting with. He might not know whose club he’s in, but they do.
“I don’t give a fuck who you play for.” I snarl in his face. “You get the fuck out of here and take your fucking friends with you and never come back. Understood? I never wanna see your face again.” A face that falls slightly when Vinny joins us, snarling in a silent invitation to fuck around and find out.
His friends are smart enough to pull him away but not smart enough to refrain from shooting filthy remarks as they go. Not that I give a shit. One of the privileges of running a business is deciding who we will serve. While I’m sure my brother would give me shit if he heard about this, it’s my club.
I make the decisions.
Through all of this, Emilia has remained silent. I turn to her, breathing heavily, and the look of wide-eyed surprise she wears does nothing but pour fuel over the flames of possessiveness already consuming me. I don’t say a word. There’s nothing to be said as I lead her back to the office, ignoring spectators still gathered around us. Let them watch. I can’t bring myself to care about any of it. All that matters is getting her alone, now, before I explode. Vinny is smart enough to stay behind to stand guard, and I lock the door behind us, pounding my fist against the wood.
“Luca?” Her voice is small, trembling, full of questions.
“He touched you,” I growl out. The mere memory leaves me punching the door again. “He thought you were some whore he could touch.”
“I’m fine. We’re fine.” She places a hand on my shoulder. I know it’s supposed to provide comfort, but it only serves as a reminder of what is mine. No one else’s. Something erupts in me, something dark and vengeful. Something that gives me no choice but to take hold of her and push her against the door.
Her eyes snap open wide as she gasps, but the sound is cut off when I thrust my tongue into her mouth, invading her until she moans and melts against me as she always does.
My woman.
My everything.
I would swear an animal roars in my head, the sound of triumph, as I run a hand over her tits reaching between us, then pulling the dress up to her waist. One sharp tug and her panties give way, leaving her gasping in surprise before I cup her hot, plump mound. “This is mine,” I growl out through clenched teeth, staring into her bulging eyes. Eyes that quickly darken with need and understanding. “Say it,” I demand, my hold on her firm and unrelenting.
“Yours.” She reaches down to grasp my ass, pulling me in, demanding all of me. “Yours.”
I’m helpless in the face of this overwhelming, all-consuming heat. Sliding my fingers through Emilia’s silky wetness makes her gasp, nails digging into my shoulders hard enough that I feel the pressure through my jacket and shirt. She rocks her hips against my hand, then bears down on my fingers, practically forcing them inside her. It’s with a chuckle that I give her what she wants, fucking her with them, grinding my covered cock against her hip while the wet, sloppy sounds of her arousal fill the air.
Only I can do this to her.
Only I can make her whimper and beg.
I can turn her into this gasping, needy thing.
“Fuck me,” she begs, now clutching the back of my neck and pulling my face close, brushing her lips against mine and moaning into my mouth. “Give it to me. I need your cock inside me.”
My cock aches painfully in response, and she doesn’t need to say another word. I pull back far enough to drop my pants, my hands trembling with need, my desperation leaving me grunting in frustration when I can’t get inside her fast enough.
