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“You’re in my seat,” Nico says roughly, and my head whips up so fast, I fear it will fall off my neck.
“Nico!” I gasp, wide-eyed, but he isn’t looking at me. He is glaring straight at Adam, and if looks could kill, Adam would be a dead man already.
“Excuse me?” Adam says dismissively, and I cringe. He really needs to just shut up.
“Nico, what are you doing here?” I grit out to him quietly as I tug on his sleeve to try to get his attention. All eyes in the restaurant are on us, but Nico’s eyes won’t leave Adam.
Adam pushes out his chair and stands, expanding his chest as the two are now face to face in what would be a hilarious case of posturing any other time, but humor is not the emotion I am feeling right now. They are the same height, similar build, and although I know Adam works out, he has absolutely no idea who Nico is and what he is capable of.
“You. Are. In. My. Seat.” Nico punctuates back to him, making himself very clear. I can see the anger in his eyes, and his jaw working overtime; he is really pissed. His hand clenches by his side, his fingers twitch, and for a beat I hold my breath.
Could he be jealous? Has he caught feelings for me like I have for him?
Adam looks from Nico to me and back again.
“I don’t think so, buddy,” Adam says with a grin that even I want to slap off his face, and I already know this isn’t going to end well. Not unless I step in and do something.
“You know, I’m going to call it a night.” I grab my bag and look at the waiter, who scurries to get my coat. The longer I watch this standoff, the more annoyed I get. Nico hasn’t even looked at me since he arrived, so what is his point in being here? I wonder if he will follow me out of the restaurant. My breathing shallows as I realize that I secretly hope he does. “Thank you, Adam, but I need to go,” I say through gritted teeth, not talking to Nico as both men look at me. Then I walk out of the restaurant, taking my coat from the waiter on the way.
My strides are quick, and before I know it, I am out of the restaurant and not looking back. I strut down the sidewalk, putting on my coat as I go, keeping my steps fast. Adam was not who I thought he was, and as I hear my heels click on the sidewalk, I try to listen for any steps behind me, hoping like hell he leaves me alone. I’m frustrated. Life keeps throwing me curve balls. Perhaps I need to change my name, change my identity, maybe move to a sunny town in Mexico and make jewelry on the beach.
“Where do you think you are going?” Nico growls from behind me, sending a welcome chill down my spine, and swivel on my heel to look at him.
He is murderous. His eyes lock with mine, and I have never seen a man so angry.
“You own me for work, not for pleasure, Nico. I can still go on dates.” Maybe if I push him hard enough, he’ll actually admit why he showed up tonight.
For a moment, he doesn’t respond, just stands there with his darkened gaze on me. With a huff, I go to turn around, ready to leave him in the dust, but he speaks just as I do.
“You are not going on any dates unless they are with me.” His words halt me in place as he stalks toward me, stopping right in front of me. The light from the lamppost shines on my face, but he is in darkness as he looms above me. I’m still for a beat… did I hear him correctly? I barely breathe as I look at him, his face so serious. It dawns on me that this is not business related anymore. The heat in gaze is enough to prove that point.
But because I’m me, I give him another verbal shove in the right direction.
“It is a date, Nico. It has nothing to do with work. A girl has needs, Nico!” I sweep my coat aside, putting my hands on my hips.
“You have needs, bambolina?” he says as he closes the small gap between us, his face now mere inches from mine. My hear thumps in my chest as I feel his warm breath skirt across my lips. I try to stand firm, my fingers gripping into my hips to remain upright as butterflies twirl and flap their wings in places they haven’t ventured in a very long time, making my knees weak and my nipples peak.
“We all have needs, Nico… except for you, it appears?” I say in a challenge, raising my eyebrow, meeting him head on. His movement is quick as his hand snaps up and grabs my jaw, holding my gaze on his as he leans his head in closer, his nose touching my cheek where he then trails it over my cheekbone.
“Perhaps I should fuck those needs right out of you, hmm?” he whispers to me so softly, my ears barely hear the words, but my pussy does as it clenches.
“You’re such an asshole. Don’t say things you have no intention of following through with,” I say with a light shove to his chest, and I turn and walk exactly three steps away before he grabs my elbow.
“This way, bambolina. You’re coming with me,” he growls, as he maneuvers me toward a dark car parked right out the front of the restaurant.
“Oh my god, you are kidnapping me now? If you take me back to that room of boxes, I think I will scream, Nico! I need a break!” I’m hungry, horny, and now he is taking me back to work?! I have no idea how I will manage even one box in the current state I am in.
I huff as I slide into the car, my body sinking into the soft leather seats, as he walks around the vehicle and gets into the back seat with me, before the driver starts the car and we begin to move.
“You know, you said I could do the boxes around my clients and other activities. You never said I needed to have my head in those boxes every waking hour,” I continue my rant, turning to face at him, as he remains frustratingly silent next to me.
“Adam is the first date I have been on in months, Nico. Months! Maybe even close to a year. I never go out, I never enjoy a beautiful meal, and now I am starving because you just had to come and ruin my night. I haven’t eaten all day, and I am craving stupid Italian-made pasta ever since you cooked for me last weekend!” When he doesn’t even look at me, I keep going. He’s going to hear everything on my mind if he wants to test me like this.
“You want me to die of starvation, don’t you? That, or death by papercut with the amount of paperwork you have me going through. I wonder if anyone has ever died of a paper cut before. Maybe I will be the first? Maybe I will get a paper cut, it will get infected, and my hand will drop off, Nico. Have you ever thought about that!” I say to him like I have just expressed a very valid argument in court, and not at all like I am a raving lunatic in the back seat of his car, going who knows where. But this is what he does to me; he drives me crazy.
“If that will shut you up, then I won’t say no,” he mutters, his eyes flicking to me, nostrils flaring.
I am about to unload on him again with another nonsensical tirade, but the car pulls up and comes to a stop. He is quick to jump out, slamming his door and walking around the back of the car and coming to open my door before I can even think to. He offers me his hand, and I take it, feeling another dose of word vomit about to come out.
