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Full on hammered and, if I’m being honest, I can’t remember the last time I drank this much.
My entire adult life was about being prepared if a journalist or some kind of press stumbled upon me—drunk at a club wouldn’t have looked great.
But here I am, drunk in a club with a bunch of dancers and mafiosos, and, most of all—I feel safe.
Because I know nothing could ever happen to me. Not when Marco and Dante are on “Lilah Patrol,” as they called it.
I fucking love this tiny glimpse into what the future could be when this all turns out the way I want.
Living carefree and going out, Dante keeping watch to make sure I have fun and don’t get into trouble then taking me home to do whatever he can dream up.
I’m dancing with Candy and Fancy, and we're grinding on each other on the dance floor with a remarkable lack of men coming over to join in. I just know that is my husband's doing.
Whether it’s just vibes alone or if he and Marco talked to every single man in this place and told them to stay away, I’m not sure. But it does, in a way, add to the fun, knowing that there’s no harm in the vicinity. Knowing I can shake my ass with my friends without having to worry about some rando who smells like AXE and BO coming to join in is freeing.
But the best part of all is knowing Dante is there, watching.
Sometimes I can’t see him, just know he’s there. Others, I turn and he’s leaning against a wall, watching me, a tumbler in his hand as if he’s drinking, but I know damn well it’s all for show.
That’s what’s happening right now, Dante standing twenty feet away as I grind into Candy, Marco standing next to him, arms crossed on his chest, glasses on.
I bet Marco feels at home here, a loud club, girls dancing, keeping the men in line.
But Dante . . . Dante is watching me and me alone. I know with him around, no harm will come to me.
But the way his eyes are burning on mine . . . It has me thinking I might like a little harm. Between that and the way the liquor is coursing in my veins, I think I might just want some trouble.
With him.
I reach into my bra, pulling out my phone as I grind my ass into Candy and even from here, I see his eyebrow lift.
I need you.
That’s all I send.
My clit is already pulsing just thinking about the possibilities.
I watch him open his phone, watch him read my text, watch his eyes shift to mine instantly . . .
And I smile.
Later.
That’s his response.
Later.
That just won’t do. My tongue grazes my lips as I type, continuing to dance, hoping the letters come out sensible.
Now or I find another way.
His jaw goes tight and I hear Candy cackle behind me.
She so totally knows what’s going on between Dante and me, even if I haven’t told her.
Like I said, Candy knows everything.
I so need to chat with her.
