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With that, he reaches around my waist and pulls me into him. I stiffen, blood shooting up into my face. I focus on Ricky and Lorenzo. Maybe I can blame my crazy pulse on their presence and what they’re doing.
Zayne’s staring doesn’t seem to faze either of the two men. Unlike everybody else in the bar, they seem to know exactly who they’re looking at.
“They know you?” I ask, doing my best not to stutter, and telling myself that I’m nervous only because of the two mafiosos.
“I make sure that whoever needs to know who I am does.”
Holding me close with one powerful arm, he slips the other hand between my thighs, just above my knees.
Heaven above.
It takes all of my self-control not to squirm.
“What the hell, Zayne?” I push out through tight lips. “There’s a lot of people here.”
“Don’t you want to feel safe again in this city or not?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“It has to do with my staking my claim,” he purrs, his fingers grazing up the inside of my thigh.
“This makes me look really bad in front of my employees,” I protest, squeezing my legs together when he reaches too high. He grabs my inner thigh in his hand, making it hurt. I bang my glass on the table and swallow back a curse.
“It didn’t seem to bother you when you got shit-faced and groped guys at this very counter.”
“That was different.”
“Why? Because you slapped their hands off of you and you were the one doing the touching?”
My fingers tighten on the glass so much, I’m afraid it’s going to snap in my hand.
“Yes, I know the details,” he growls in my ear, reproach mixed with threat in his voice. I’m staring right ahead, at the two men, trying to keep my shit together.
“Your people filmed me,” I draw the conclusion in a whisper.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t watch all of it.” I can tell his jaw tightens, and I’m not even looking at him. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it bothers him to remember. “Mostly, I took my guys’ word for it. Got anything to say for yourself?”
“I don’t owe you a fucking explanation.”
“Too bad that you feel that way.” His palm kneads my thigh while his thumb feathers over my panties. I sit up straight, and he smiles against the side of my face. “Because you kind of depend on my good opinion of you.”
“It seems I depend more on your bad opinion.” My muscles relax just a little, my treacherous body starting to give into the possession of his hand.
A delicious, “Hmmm” leaves his lips, making my scalp tingle.
“Maybe that was the problem all along,” he says, his breath on my cheek. “You need a man who will take what he wants from you.”
Marco glances in our direction, catching the flush on my neck when Zayne’s thumb brushes just a little firmer over my pussy, my clit throbbing to attention.
“Hmmmm, you like having spectators?” he muses in my ear.
“No, not really,” I react, a little too quickly. “I just...You make it hard for me to know what to do with myself.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” His thumb grows even bolder. It slips through the side of my flimsy panties, the rough pad pushing between the lips of my pussy. I’m ready to jump off the stool, but his arm around my waist keeps me in place. I try to squirm in protest, but he holds me so close to his body it’s hard to move at all, his warmth and presence suffocating.
“Zayne, please, people can see.”
“People are supposed to see, especially Ricky and Lorenzo. They need to get this message.”
