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I tried to break free from the raw intensity, blinking several times then managing to pull myself together. Even from afar, the crackle of electricity was something I hadn’t experienced before. I finally managed to rip my gaze away before things got out of hand. Why would a complete stranger attract me to the point of losing all sense of timing and possibly parts of my sanity?
“Hel-lo,” Joy said in singsong way. “Are you still alive? Would you like me to ask him to join us? Maybe he can fuck you in the bathroom.”
“You do and I’ll cut your heart out. And no, that’s disgusting. I don’t have sex with men I don’t know.” Although the thought was sinfully delicious. I gulped a good third of my second drink, but I wasn’t feeling lightheaded because of the amount of alcohol. My skin tingled. This was ridiculous.
“He’s still staring at you.”
I glanced at Marla and fiddled, swirling my drink back and forth.
“That’s not staring. That’s sizing you up for the size of the platter he’s going to need when he slathers you with whipped cream.”
“Seriously, my dear, sweet girlfriends. Stop it,” I told them, but I dared take another look. The effect was the same. For a few seconds, he held me tethered with his focused stare. I took a deep breath and held it, forcing myself to turn away. “Whew,” I whispered, my heart fluttering.
“I think you should go talk to him. I can tell you think he’s sexy.” Joy pushed my arm again, almost knocking over my drink. That would have been a crime given the day I’d had.
“And say what?”
Joy shrugged, but her eyes were back to twinkling. “Something like, ‘You’re staring at me. Why don’t you fuck my brains out instead?’”
Marla broke into a frisson of laughter while I scowled.
“I’m not an easy woman.” My rebuttal only caused Joy to choke.
“No, you’re… not,” she wheezed in between coughing fits. Somehow, I knew they weren’t talking about the same thing.
“This is getting ridiculous. I’m not having sex with him.” While I didn’t mind a little teasing given my often-bitchy nature, I wasn’t going to be goaded into lowering myself to ask a man to fuck me. Or anything else for that matter.
“What a pity,” Marla crooned, jumping back into the nightmare. “Then maybe you wouldn’t end up sexless, unhappy, and all alone.”
I jerked up from the table, glaring from one to the other. “I’ll have you know I’m perfectly happy with my life.”
But I was lying. I spent most of my time locked behind the closed door of my apartment or stuck in my office. Maybe it was a condition of being a mafia princess or the fact I’d been gifted with limited freedom living outside of Italy.
“Order another round. I’ll be right back.” I pushed away from the table, realizing just then that to get to the bathroom, I’d need to pass right by him. Or I could make a wide arc and be the laughingstock of the girls for the rest of the night. To hell with that.
“You go, girl. Grab that hunk of meat with both hands.” Now Joy’s voice was irritating.
“Save me some,” Marla cooed.
I rubbed my hands on my skirt and headed straight for him, making certain I didn’t stumble in my heels.
The closer I came to God’s gift to all women, the more the heat erupted between us. When I was only a few inches away, the temperature soared, prickles racing through every muscle, drifting across my jaw as well as between my breasts. I could swear a single bead of sweat was prepared to trickle down the side of my face.
He swiveled just enough he was able to watch as I was prepared to pass by a few feet behind. It took all I had not to demand what the hell he was looking at. Instead, I looked straight ahead as if I didn’t have a thought about the muscular brute at all.
Yet as soon as I walked by, his scent filtered into my system in such a powerful way that I was utterly flabbergasted. He smelled of a dark forest, a dose of musk against a raging backdrop of flames.
He also smelled of sin, twisted filth that made my mouth water.
I was the kind of woman who when entering a room caught the eye of everyone, men and women alike. It wasn’t usually because they wanted to fuck me. They feared me instead because I was a powerhouse to be reckoned with. I never faltered, never looking away from a scrutinizing eye or an unfriendly sneer. Doing so would mean backing down.
Why was it that I almost stumbled over a chair leg in my attempt to get to the bathroom unscathed? Even worse, I could feel his heated gaze remained in the long wall to the hallway. When I finally reached the bathroom, I burst inside. By that point, I was gasping for air, shocked at my reaction. He was just a man. Nothing special.
That was like screaming to the wind that the Grand Canyon wasn’t a creation from God. I took several deep breaths then splashed cold water on my face, immediately reaching for a stack of towels. Then I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had sex. Months? No, much longer than that. Two years? That sounded closer. When I had indulged, there wasn’t enough of a memory of doing so to indicate it had been any good.
It was me.
I was the problem.
