Chapter Twenty-One-Anna
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE-ANNA
T he Vipers’ Den is jam-packed for a Thursday night.
I thought we were just going to split off here, I would meet up with Nico and leave Giselle and Angel to whatever date they have planned.
Instead, Nico isn’t here yet, so I slide into the reserved booth Angel points out after we arrive. It’s plush black leather and super comfortable.
“Should we be sitting here?” I ask Angel, trying to be heard without shouting over the pounding music, when I notice more than a few eyes darting to us.
“This is the king’s table. You belong to the king,” he says, as if that clears anything up.
I shoot Giselle a look she knows means holy shit because, well, holy fucking shit .
This is incredible.
I mean, his statement is definitely chauvinistic. And it shouldn’t make me feel anything other than repulsion.
But I do. I feel something else.
I feel pride.
I want to belong to Nico. I don’t know if that makes me weak or anti-feminist or what. I just know I have some serious feelings for my husband.
“Hey, what can I get you?” a voice asks, and I turn to see a pretty bartender with straight brown hair and almond shaped eyes staring at me.
I recognize her from the other times I was in the bar before. She seemed hostile then, but some of her edge is gone.
She looks like a puppy who's been corrected.
Then I scold myself for the unkind thought, and I offer a smile.
“Hi, I’m Anna,” I say. “This is Giselle, but I call her Sisi.”
“What’s up?” Giselle nods at her.
“Oh, um, I’m Maria. Can I get you two something to drink?”
“Yes, thank you, I’m parched. Can I have, well, do you have any juice?” I ask.
“Sure. Fresh squeezed orange juice work?” Maria points out a large citrus juicing machine behind the bar and I grin.
“Oh my God! Yes, please,” I reply.
“Since you’re doing orange juice, anyway, can I have an Orange Crush?” Giselle asks.
“You bitch,” I tease. That is my favorite drink.
“I can make that as a virgin for you,” Maria offers, and I nod.
“Yes, yes, please and thank you,” I say, wiggling in my seat.
I can’t help it. I wiggle when I’m excited.
“You got it,” Maria replies, and winks.
Angel is watching us, but he’s standing a few feet away. I see a few guys walk up to him. Whatever they are saying, I don’t know, but when Angel answers them, each one turns towards us and gives a slight nod of their heads.
Almost like a bow.
I inhale and my body gives a head to toe shiver, but I’m not cold. This is all just so surreal.
A few minutes pass and I’m drinking the sweet, delicious concoction Maria made me.
Giselle moans over how good her drink is, and Maria stays to chat for a while too, before going to help more customers.
She’s not the only bartender working tonight, but she is good and a lot of customers, male customers especially, seem to vie for her attention.
I notice Luc when he comes in. He dips his chin to say hello and I wave, making him and Angel both smile.
“You’re such a dork.” Giselle snorts, and I roll my eyes.
Whatever.
I’m a friendly girl, I can’t help it. The whole nodding thing is for guys. So, waving it is.
Usually, that’s the kind of thing I’d agonize over. Feeling like I look foolish or something, but I don’t mind at all. I feel content.
Happy even.
Truth is, I missed this. Just hanging out and being with people. Sure, I worked in the office a lot in the bakery, but I used to at least talk to people every day.
I’ve been lonely stuck in the condo while Nico works, and this is just what I needed. But I realize I need more.
I need my husband.
Tingles dance up my spine and I turn my head as the man himself walks in.
No, walk isn’t the right word to describe his progression across the bar. Nico doesn’t just move, he moves with purpose .
Like he’s prowling. Or maybe even stalking me across the room.
And, oh my, but he is something to behold. My entire body feels lit up and attuned to his every movement.
He is so good looking. More so than any man I have ever seen. His height and his muscular frame make him one of the biggest guys here. Then there’s his short haircut, the trimmed beard that only serves to highlight his chiseled features, his hot as fuck tattoos, and his bright blue eyes.
Nico Fury is positively delicious. I want to lick him from head to toe. Every brain cell I have seems to short circuit, as I imagine doing exactly that.
Unwanted doubt starts to creep into my mind. What is he doing with me? This guy can have anyone he wants. I can’t believe he really chose me.
I feel special. Honored.
I lick my lips, watching his progression. Aware that all eyes are on him.
The king.
Everyone must know him. Or, if they don’t know him know him, then they can feel him.
His power. The air of authority that clings to his skin .
They don’t seem to question it. They simply move.
It’s the right thing to do. I don’t see any other course of action.
The crowd just parts for him like the Red Sea. Men and women move out of his way immediately. As for Nico, well, he doesn’t slow his speed or alter his course.
He heads straight for me. Each step is deliberate. Every move is predetermined. His expression is intense as he moves, coiling through the throng. And me, well, I’m frozen.
I am completely caught in his thrall, My heart thunders, my pulse races, and my entire body lights up like a fireworks display.
He’s close now. Inches away. Then he’s right there, and I whisper his name.
“Nico,” I say reverently, almost like a prayer.
And maybe I am praying. God help me, Nico Fury is the answer to every single one of mine.
He cups my neck, claiming me publicly with his lips, and I melt into him.
It doesn’t matter where we are, I will always cling to this man, to my husband, because, like Angel said earlier, Nico is the king and I belong to him.