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It makes things in me swoop and fly. It makes me wetter, and my clit throb. And I don’t even think it’s at half-mast. I want to rub against it to find out.
“Keep doing that,Tesoro, and we’re gonna be in trouble here.”
His smoke voice holds lazy humor as it winds about me and, as the music changes to an upbeat one, I look up at him. “Do what?”
“Keep rubbing that delicious body against me. Your tits are already pushing at me, and now you’re moving your sweet ass in that way designed to get a rise from a man, you know?” But he’s not angry. Amusement and hunger glow in his tiger eyes. “Plus, the music’s changed. We can cool off, have a drink, and maybe dance again.”
The way he says it sends thrills bursting life into my bones.
Nicolo guides me through the crowd, his hand on my lower back like he’s claiming me as his, and he sets me down at an empty table.
But I get up again as he reaches for his money clip.
“No, let me.”
“Avah, there’s no way in fucking hell I’m letting you buy me a drink.”
“It’s the modern age, women can do that.”
“Not,” he says, “on my watch.”
But I’m not about to take no for an answer, and I narrow my eyes and look up at him. “Nicolo.”
He breathes out, and for a moment, I think he’s going to toss me over his shoulder and take me out of there, and I sort of want him to go he-man on me and do that. But his mouth turns up a little at the edges. “Miller Lite,” is all he says, handing me a twenty.
I don’t want to take it but a win’s a win, no matter how small.
He takes a seat as I make my way to the bar, and I’m pretty sure he’s watching my ass as the back of my neck burns.
When I get to the bar, it’s about two people deep, but these young men step aside and usher me in. “Thanks.”
Young? They’re my age, but with Nicolo waiting for me, they might as well be teens.
“No problem.” The one who speaks to me is blond and blue-eyed and is the type who might have made my heart squeeze type a handful of days ago. He’s hot, and he knows it, and he leaves me cold.
Nicolo again.
He hasn’t even done more than touch me, and I’m already ruined for other men. It’s a lust-filled crush I’m in the middle of, I know it. And I know crushes go, but what the hell, I’m gonna ride that Nicolo train of crushdom while I can.
“You with someone,” the blond asks.
I smile. “Yeah. Well, maybe. I mean, we’re out.”
Shutting my mouth, I turn and order the beers. What is wrong with me? Going on like that?
But the guy doesn’t seem bothered. “Lucky guy. Hey, we’re having a shot, have one with us. And if it doesn’t work out with you and your bugbear, maybe I can show you a real good time.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
Again, his easy, smug smile is in place, and he puts his hand on my arm. “Have a shot with us.”
“No—”
“Go on. One drink.”
He’s not about to let me go, and I don’t want to be the girl who looks for the man to rescue her, so I do. I just take the glass he presses into my hand and down it, sputtering.
“Good girl. Another, and then you can go . . .” He leans in. “And, hey, maybe this dude’s already gone. Or you can stay with us. You like me, don’t you.”
