Honestly, I would have been more comfortable in the tuxedo and carrying a tray. I probably could have overheard more conversation that way too.
Arabella, swathed in yellow with gold tinsel in her hair, stood next to Mrs. Grimaldi, looking the picture of modest grace. I searched for Dominico. A pang shot through my chest not seeing him, but the big-bad boss wasn’t there either.
“The Bourbon Area holds potential!” a voice boomed.
Stopping by a potted plant, I listened hard.
“The rats are leaving the ship,” another voice admitted. “Could be ripe for the picking.”
“Does Hetron show any signs of developing the area?” someone asked.
Why don’t I have a pen to write this shit down?My phone was in Luigi’s car, because unlike so many of these ladies, I didn’t have a designer handbag to put it in.
“It’s sad to see so many mom-and-pop shops fall on hard times.”
“Who cares! We’ll score big. We just need to make a move. Do you see Grimaldi? I want to ask him what Hetron’s intentions are.”
“You walk into a room and every thought I have turns into you.” This voice spoke right next to my ear.
I jumped out of my skin, rounding on the smirking devil in black. “Nico! What the fuck, dude? Seriously!”
With a rough laugh, he stepped into me. His thumb traced my lip, tugging it down and hooking on my teeth. “Such adirtymouth, cherry-bomb,” he growled. “Such a dirty, filthy tongue.”
The temperature in the room spiked. An instant tingle of heat buzzed between my legs.
“And these lips, so red and ripe.” He leaned closer, whispering against my ear. “Tonight, I want to see them wrapped around my dick before I rip that dress off of you.”
My core clenched tight.
Thank heavens I used lip stain, or else red paint would be smeared all over my face.
“I was trying to listen,” I muttered around his hold.
“Mmm, what an obedient little girl.” His teeth grazed my ear. “Keep up the good work. I’ll be sure to show you how much I appreciate it.”
He pulled away, leaving me aching.
I watched him disappear in the crowd. His costume was simple. A black suit that fit his large frame like a second skin. It wasn’t until he turned to shake hands and I caught his profile that I realized our masks matched.
If he was the devil in black, what did that make me?
I shook myself, but the group talking about the neighborhood project was gone. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I dumped the sticky sweet bubbles into a plant and carried my empty glass to the bar.
Tonight required a real drink.
“Bourbon. Neat.” I pulled some cash from the built-in bra, ignoring how hard and sensitive my nipples were thanks to the run-in with the monster.
“Do you have a brand preference?” the bartender asked.
I scanned the selection of bottles lining the shelf.
“It’s an open bar, sweetie, you can put that away,” a man in a ghoulish getup said, sidling up to me.
“Anything from Kentucky,” I told the bartender and handed him the twenty bucks. “That’s for you.”
“Thank you,” he said with a smile, pocketing the tip.
When he slid the tumbler to me, it was nice and full.
