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If I want any chance of Luna not cutting off my balls on our wedding night, I need to make her trust me.
“I’ll give you time, though,” her brother agrees, and relief instantly has my shoulders dropping.
Neither of us bother with saying goodbye as we hang up. It’s not that I don’t like her brother, but we’ve never seen eye-to-eye before. But we do have mutual respect for one another.
My heart rate instantly spikes when I see Luna is no longer in her chair. I should have known she would try to ditch me.
“Over here, bodyguard,” she purrs my way from the wall. The men sitting around the dart board are licking their lips at the sight of her. She’s wearing incredibly short shorts that display her defined, long legs and a crop top with long sleeves. She’s dressed in all black, but I don’t remember the last time I saw her in a splash of color.
Her blue eyes are vibrant as she smirks and realizes I thought I lost her. “I can see you’re better at killing people than keeping them alive.” The jab stings, and the day when everything changed flashes into my mind.
She hands me three darts, her silent way of asking if I want to play. I step up, and she moves the old darts off the board, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Will you be able to stay focused on our surroundings if you play?” she asks.
“When it comes to you, I’d kill anyone who even looks at you wrongly.”
She turns away, throwing a dart, hitting a triple twenty at the top of the board.
“I think the goal is to get the bullseye,” I comment.
“I’m still trying to understand why you’re here.” She aims again and hits next to her last throw. “And why are you trying to be nice?” She turns toward me and scrunches up her nose. She looks back at the board, throwing the last dart with more force, and hits the middle of her others, causing them to fall out of their position.
“I’ve always been nice to you.” When I haven’t, it was because she started something. I personally prefer to actively ignore her more than anything. “You, on the other hand…” I pause, going to pick up the darts. “Tried to kill me on prom night.”
She laughs. Fuck if that laugh doesn’t sound beautiful. “Fin, if I wanted you to be dead, I would have shot you and not that stupid plastic crown.” Her smile lights up her face. It’s the same smile I remember.
That’s when I notice she has another glass of clear liquid. Looks to be about an ounce in it. With a sassy smirk, she downs it.
“At least IknowI can’t handle my vodka.” I recall the last time she drank vodka when I was around, I had to hold her hair back.
“I’m still a better person than you.”
She might have a point, but I don’t care. “That was then, sweetheart. Looks like we turned out to be the same type of person, after all.”
Being around Luna has me feeling more alive than I have in years. She riles up a new type of energy in me. It’s like cocaine in my veins. I don’t know how I made myself stay away all these years. The thing is, once I get a taste of something I like, I never let it go. I have every intention of making Luna Rossi mine forever.
My heart strums in a quicker beat as it anticipates the fun we’re going to have while I make her fall in love with me. I can’t wait to see her expression when she learns she has to marry me.
My cock swells in my pants at the thought of our wedding night. I’ve forced these fantasies out of mind since the moment I noticed she grew tits. I never allowed myself to go there. But now that she’s all grown up, I have no reason to stop my imagination. It has me looking forward to making the fantasy a reality.
She signals to the bartender with one finger.
“If you accept another drink, I will remove you from the bar.”
Her hand goes to her hip that she pops out, her eyes traveling the length of me. “You used to be fun.”
“Still am.” She might have the talent to manipulate others, but I invented the game long before she realized it was an option.
She makes a humming sound. Her lips purse to one side as she contemplates her next move. The bartender walks over, giving her fuck-me eyes, and places her drink on the small round table.
“What’s it going to be?” I bait, looking forward to her disobeying.
Her pointer finger circles the rim of the short glass. It brings my attention to her black-painted nails. Her fingers slide down the clear glass, wrapping around it before she picks it up. When my eyes draw back up to hers, she’s watching me intently. She has a “what the hell are you going to do?” look on her face, and I let her think she’s playing with me.
I hold her stare as she brings the glass up to her face and takes a sniff as she swirls it around, much like one would do with wine.
Her tongue dips out of her lips… and then she downs it in one fluid motion.
Chapter 6
