11. Juliette #2
Ivy tugged on my hand and we headed onto the dance floor, leaving all my troubles behind.
Mainly the DiLustros. But it didn’t take a long time for them to catch up to us.
Music blared through the speakers. Disco lights cast a glow against our skin as our bodies moved together, limbs jiving and hips rolling.
I moved my hips sensually to the beat of the music. Sexy. Slow. And all along, I was aware of Dante’s gaze on me, burning on my skin.
It took only five songs for Wynter to finally give up on us. She and Basilio made their way out and Davina followed not long after.
“Gosh, everybody is heading out,” I yelled into Ivy’s ear.
She shrugged. “I might too.”
“What?” I squealed. “The night has barely started.”
“I have a headache,” she complained. “Or jet lag.”
“God, it’s barely nine p.m.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry, Jules. I’m just not feeling it tonight.”
And she left me too. My eyes skimmed over the room, looking for my brother. I spotted him. Maybe I could catch up with Killian. I walked toward him. He stood with another man, the two of them discussing something serious by the looks of it.
“Hey, brother,” I greeted him, my eyes flicking curiously to the hot daddy. Silver-gray beard. Dark eyes. Hot dad body. Jesus, it should be forbidden to be so attractive at that age.
“Ah, Jules, this is a friend of mine. Kian Cortes.” I stiffened. “He's a friend of the Ashfords too.”
Was that my Kian? The guy that tracked down the fuckers I was killing?
No, it couldn’t be, that would be far too serendipitous.
Yet, that name wasn’t exactly one you heard every day.
And he’s a friend of the Ashfords. The Kian I worked with protected Autumn, Branka’s friend, as a favor to the Ashfords.
I swallowed, deciding to clear out of here as soon as possible.
“More like an acquaintance,” Kian added. His gaze came to me and he smiled. My heart skipped a beat at hearing his rich, deep voice. And his smile was beautiful, although it didn’t exactly reach his eyes. There was something dark in them. “Nice to meet you, Jules.”
I squirmed like a fish on the hook.
“Likewise,” I said, suddenly feeling parched.
“I’m gonna head to the bar,” I said with a forced smile.
Kian and I had been communicating for over a year now—I used initials to be safe—but I didn’t want to risk this man connecting the dots.
The intelligence behind his demeanor was easy to spot.
“Come join me, brother, when you’re free. ”
I left without waiting for their response and headed for the bar. Once there, I took a seat.
“Fireball,” I ordered. “Make it two. Or three.” I barely had time to blink and three shot glasses were placed in front of me. I downed the first shot and was just about to sip the second when a hot sensation trailed down my spine.
I turned my head and my gaze collided with Dante’s. My heart slowed, each beat racing as heat licked beneath my skin. It had to be the Fireball.
Dante stared into my eyes. Something about the way he watched me had my insides quivering with so many damn feelings that it terrified me. Except now, I had a few shots swimming through my veins, feeding this infatuation I had for this man.
He sat on the barstool next to me. “Is this seat taken?”
“It is now,” I joked, my mood kind of mellow now that I had an infusion of liquor in my system.
Any other time, I’d have a snarky comment and an even sharper attitude.
To my surprise, tonight it was nowhere to be found.
“Where is the birthday girl?” I asked curiously, my gaze traveling over his shoulder.
Emory should be around here somewhere. After all, all this was in her honor.
But I only saw Priest standing there, his arms folded over his chest.
“She went somewhere with Killian,” Dante answered.
My eyebrows shot up. “My brother, Killian?” I questioned in surprise.
“One and only.”
“I guess nobody is in a party mood tonight,” I remarked.
“Wynter and her annoying husband retired for the night.” I used air quotes for added theatrics.
We all knew what they were doing. Pregnancy wasn’t putting a stop to their bedroom activities.
A shudder rolled through me at that image.
Just gross. “Ivy has a migraine. Davina is probably fussing over her baby and my father.” That image was even worse.
“They all left you, huh?” Dante mused. “It’s a good thing I’m here to keep an eye on you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Somehow I think you’ll land me in more trouble. Priest is here to keep an eye on both of us,” I remarked, tilting my chin in his direction.
Dante chuckled but didn’t say anything else. My fingers curled around my glass and I stared at my drink, the amberish liquid of the Fireball made some girls go crazy. Not me. My alcohol tolerance was pretty high, either thanks to our college years or my Irish heritage.
I glanced around again, marveling that I was sitting here with Dante and not my girlfriends. Things had been different since Davina and Wynter married their men. Or maybe it was the fact that I had this secret thing going on. Hunting down anyone connected to my birth parents.
“Why is my brother with Emory?” I asked again, not willing to go down my double-life path.
Dante shrugged. “No fucking idea, but it’s odd as fuck.”
“Right!” I agreed. “I didn’t even know they knew each other well enough to go somewhere together. In fact, I thought they couldn’t stand each other.”
Dante let out an amused breath. “Well, considering he came with your father to collect Wynter in Emory’s home, I’d say they’ve crossed paths in not-so-friendly circumstances a few times.”
“Hmmm.” It still seemed odd to me.
“Want to dance?” Dante offered and I shot him a look.
“What makes you think I’m into dancing?” I said. Every other time, we were ready to kill each other and here we were having a half-decent conversation.
“I’ve seen you dancing on more than one occasion, Juliette. Once even on top of a bar.”
My eyebrows shot up to my hairline. “Stalk much?”
“Come on,” he encouraged. “It’s better than sitting here and staring at our drinks. We must be the two most depressing people in this joint.”
I glanced around and back to the spot where Priest stood, but he was no longer there. “I was going to say, your brother takes the cake for the most depressed person, but he’s no longer here. So I guess you’re right.”
Dante grinned. “So…? Yes to dancing?”
He extended his hand gallantly.
“Fine,” I agreed, putting my hand into his. His fingers wrapped around it, the warmth instantaneous. “You’re being so damn nice.”
He chuckled. “I’m always nice to you.”
I blew raspberries. “You’re always agitating me,” I said in a semi-playful tone.
“That’s not my intent.” His scent prickled my senses and seeped into my system, getting me drunk. My eyes were leveled with his square jaw, stubble darkening it.
“What’s your intent?” I asked, tilting my head and putting some space between us. Contrary to everyone’s belief, I didn’t particularly care about being too close to men. Especially the ones that I considered to be a threat to my self-preservation. “Your ulterior motive. You must have one.”
Something flashed in his eyes, but it was gone before I could hone in on it.
“I don’t always have an ulterior motive,” he said, that smug smile curving his lips.
Our bodies moved together as if we had danced a million times before. We didn’t. It was actually our first dance. I scoffed softly thinking of it as that.
“What?” he challenged.
I shook my head. “It’s probably the first time that we haven’t been at each other’s throats,” I said.
“We are not at each other’s throats,” he replied. “You are at my throat.”
The song ended and I took a step away from him. Our eyes remained locked, his darkness tugging on me and threading invisible strings.
“I need a drink,” I muttered, turning on my heel.
When we returned to the bar, Priest was there waiting for us.
He held both of our drinks, leaning against the bar counter casually and looking sharp.
Ivy had the hots for him. Like, major hots.
She pretended she didn’t, but it was plain as day.
Ever since she had that moment with him in Philly and it ended in her experiencing her first orgasm—something I still needed more details about, come to think of it.
Dante tilted his head up, swallowing his drink in one swig. Almost as if he were nervous. The only reason it jumped out at me was because he was usually so calm and nonchalant about things.
I returned my attention to Priest who watched both of us with an unreadable expression. Maybe he felt odd being here alone too. Everyone had kind of made themselves scarce around us.
“Thank you for guarding our drinks,” I murmured. He didn’t answer. No surprise there. There was something about Priest that set you on edge. I couldn’t quite pinpoint what but it was definitely there. I brought my glass to my lips, then paused. “So what’s the deal with you and Ivy?” I questioned.
He raised one eyebrow. “Deal?” he said in an amused voice. “I didn’t realize we had a deal.”
I let out an annoyed breath. “Seriously, you men are such jerks,” I mumbled. I downed my drink, alcohol burning down my throat. Instantly, warmth followed. Placing my drink down on the bartop, I added, “You don’t see what’s in front of your nose.”
“Please elaborate,” Priest demanded, his blue eyes so damn different from Dante’s, zeroing in on me.
I blinked, the alcohol creating a haziness in my brain. He wanted me to elaborate. On what? Then I remembered. Ivy. I waved my hand, smiling.
“Girls’ secrets,” I replied, a soft giggle escaping me. My brows furrowed. Did I giggle? What for?
“I promise never to repeat it,” Priest said, his voice softly urging me on.
The music was slightly less loud here compared to the dance floor, but something in his tone pulled my attention to him. His eyes were so similar to my father’s that it freaked even Davina out at times.
Except, there was something in the depths of Priest’s eyes that he hid. A storm. Maybe pain. I couldn’t quite distinguish it.
“Elaborate, please ,” Priest added.
“You give Ivy her first orgasm and then you just ignore her,” I said, and his eyes lit up like fireworks in the night sky. “That’s what. You men are fucking idiots.” Another giggle escaped me on a hiccup. “You don’t see what’s right in front of your eyes.”
“It’s not just limited to men, you know,” Priest deadpanned. “I know women who don’t see what’s right in front of them either.”
My chest shook, giggles overtaking me.
After that, Dante and I danced. And laughed. Everything was a blur. Distorted images of us walking while he held me. His jacket on my shoulders.