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The music is pounding and the drinks are flowing. Aria is in the middle of the dance floor, her hands roaming up and down her body. The longer I watch her, the more I wish it were somebody else’s shift. I adjust the bulge in my pants, waiting for the second that she says she’s done dancing for the night.
I look away from her hypnotic moves and glance around the room. Being her bodyguard is putting me close to the right people. Most of the men who come and go from the Russo estate act as if I’m not there. They don’t bother considering that a bodyguard might not be who he says he is.
At the end of every shift, I go home and document what happens in the run of a day. I have to write down everything I hear and see, making sure that it is as detailed as possible. Jameson doesn’t want to risk any small detail slipping through the cracks.
When my attention drifts back to Aria, I see a couple of men watching her. They look like they’re not much older than her. They point to one of Aria’s friends, their heads bent together as they whisper.
I sigh and glance across the room at the other bodyguard who came with us tonight. He looks at me and nods to the men. It’s a silent question, asking if he should go get involved. I shake my head before I start moving through the crowd.
The men start pushing their way toward Aria and her friends. They approach her moments before I do, but I can’t hear what they’re saying over the music. I keep my distance, waiting to see what Aria does.
Aria’s gaze travels around the club until we make eye contact. The corner of her mouth turns slightly up before she turns to the men in front of her.
The moment she kisses one of them, I see red.
I’m not thinking clearly as I push my way through the few people standing between us and rip her away from him. I place myself between them, staring at the men. Aria laughs as the man curls his hands into fists, ready to come at me.
“I suggest you leave now,” I say, pulling up the hem of my shirt slightly to reveal the gun on my hip. “I don’t want there to be any more problems here tonight.”
The man’s eyes narrow as he looks at the gun before looking back at Aria. “The whore isn’t worth it.”
Aria steps around me and gives the man a bright smile seconds before her fisted hand collides with his nose. There is a sickening crunch as the nose breaks. Aria is still smiling as she shakes out her hand, watching the blood drip down the man’s face.
“Real men don’t call a lady a whore,” Aria says, crossing her arms as she glares at him and his friends. “Leave.”
The men leave as Aria’s friends start whispering. I put some distance between myself and the women, needing a second to collect myself. Watching her break a grown man’s nose has me wanting to drag her into a dark corner and remind her of the night we spent together.
There is a point in time when I hated Aria’s family. Hell, I still hate them, but there is something about her that lessens that hate just a little. For her, I can overlook the fact that she is a Russo.
“Tyson, we want to go to a different club. One with more dancing and fewer creeps,” Aria says as she materializes beside me.
I stuff my hand in my pocket and subtly rearrange myself. Now is not the time or the place.
“Do I look like the driver?” I ask even as I nod to her other bodyguard and cut my gaze to the door. The other bodyguard nods and starts moving.
Aria looks me over, mischief in her eyes. “Not even a little bit. Although, you could be the car. I would like to ride you.” She laughs and grabs her friends’ hands, dragging them to the door before I can say anything. Not that I have anything to say to that.
The more time I spend around her, the more I see that she delights in toeing the line of what is right and wrong between us.
I follow the girls outside, my jaw clenched as I watch them giggle and stumble their way into the car. I grab Aria’s arm and pull her back before she can get in.
“Yes?” she asks, giving me an innocent smile. “Is there a problem?”
“You’re playing with fire,” I say, unable to stop myself from looking down at the tiny black dress that hugs her curves. “I’m here to do a job, Aria.”
“Maybe I’m here to give a job,” she says, that wicked smile curling her mouth upward.
My cock twitches, knowing exactly what kind of job she means.
I can’t let myself go there. Her family represents everything that is wrong with this world.
“Your car is waiting, Miss Russo,” I say through clenched teeth.
She rolls her eyes and pulls her arm free before sliding into the car with her friends. Aria gives me a pointed look and I close the door behind her as her friends start to ask what my problem is.
Once the door is closed, I take a deep breath. I don’t know how I’m going to get through the rest of the night if she’s going to continue goading me. The sooner we get to the club, the better. She’ll be distracting herself with dancing while I watch from a distance.
* * *
