Nero grabs the whiskey and leans against the bar. “It’s better this way. If you were wearing any less, I’d have to kill any man that looked at you, and it would turn into a whole mess.” He takes a sip of his drink.
I give him a weary look. “It never fails to amaze me how casually you talk about murder.”
“It’s just a part of life, like paying taxes or being stuck in traffic.”
I roll my eyes. “Please, there’s no way you pay taxes.”
“What do you mean? I pay some.”
“Oh yeah? What do you put down as your job?”
He smirks. “Waste management.”
“There’s something seriously wrong with you,” I say, but disturbingly enough, I’m smiling. Since when do I find dark humor funny?
“Handsome couple.”
I glance over Nero’s shoulder at an older woman who’s standing at the bar a few feet away. Her lips tip into a flirtatious smile as she catches my eye. “Mind if I watch?”
I blink at her, stunned. She wants to watch Nero and I do what exactly? Anything?Everything?
“Not this time,” Nero says smoothly, turning to face her. “My wife’s a bit shy.”
“Oh, how sweet,” she croons. “First time at Seven Lives?”
Nero smiles. “Indeed. Are you a regular?”
“I’ve been coming here once a week since they opened six months ago.”
“Do you know the owner?”
“Maks? Yes, he’s a darling. It’s always a fun time when he’s playing.” The woman takes a glass of sparkling water with a lemon slice from the bartender and raises it to us. “Enjoy your evening.”
I wrap my hand around Nero’s wrist once she walks away and tug him toward me. “You’re quick on your feet. I had no idea how to answer that question.”
He grins. “A simple no would have done the job. C’mon, we both know you don’t have a hard time enforcing boundaries.”
“That’s true, but I’m feeling a bit out of my depth right now.”
I sip on my G&T and survey the room again. The woman is still writhing wildly up on the cross, and there are more than a few couples doing their own thing in the booths. In one of them, a girl with bright-pink hair is riding a tanned, tatted man who has his inked hand wrapped around her throat.
Goosebumps erupt over my skin. I’m shocked to discover I’m getting turned on. I used to love it when Nero held me by the throat like that…
I clench my thighs to try and calm the steady pulse between my legs, but that only makes it worse.
Nero points at an unoccupied alcove with a small sofa. “Let’s go sit over there.”
Moans echo around us as we walk. The alcohol sends a pleasant buzz through my veins, and it makes me bolder. I don’t look away so quickly when my gaze lands on something I like.
Jesus. I’m kind of enjoying this. I’m acutely aware of the wetness gathering inside my panties, especially when Nero and I sit down close enough for his thigh to press against my own.
He throws his arm over the backrest behind me and props his ankle on his knee, his eyes on the crowd.
I scan him over, a bit annoyed at how unruffled he seems for someone who’s never gone to a place like this. I almost want him to be just a little worked up so that I don’t feel like such a deviant.
This isn’t me. I’m not into things like this. I like…normal people things.
You sure as hell liked it when he fucked you on top of the bar at a restaurant owned by your ex. Yeah, that wassonormal.
