15. Wynter #2
A man as tall and strong as Bas shouldn’t move as gracefully on the dance floor. His eyes locked on me and his hands possessive on my waist, he made me feel safe.
Bas’ lips crashed down on mine, demanding and hard. “Stay for me,” he growled.
Was this normal? We’d seen each other three times now, if you counted that small interaction when he caught me jumping off the balcony. Yet, I felt like I’d known him my entire life. Like my soul had been lost until I ran into him.
I still wanted the Olympic gold. But I wanted him more.
“I want to stay,” I rasped. “But I have to work out some things with my mom first.”
His eyes never left mine as we danced. The tunes of “Hypnotic” by Zella Day played through the club speakers and our bodies swayed together. It was obvious by the way he moved that he was a good dancer.
Bas’ hot breath brushed my ear as he held me against his body. “We can talk to your mom together.”
God that he’d even offer made him a true prince charming in my book. This attraction should scare me. It should have me running in the opposite direction. My instincts warned that it was the all-consuming feelings like this that could make you happy but also destroy you.
I tilted my head to stare into his blazing dark gaze and a shiver rolled down my spine. He made me feel protected. Invincible.
Neither one of us noticed a tall, blonde man that appeared to our right. “You two having a good time?” he asked, sparkling blue eyes, darting between Bas and me.
I couldn’t fight my curiosity nor my manners. “Hello.”
“Fuck off, cuz,” Bas retorted dryly, without glancing his way.
My eyebrows shot up. They didn’t look like cousins, except for the darkness that shone in his light eyes.
His dirty blonde hair and blue eyes set him apart from Bas’ striking dark hair and eyes.
His every movement screamed intrigue, and that full mouth of his probably had ladies falling at his feet.
I couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something familiar about him. I couldn’t pinpoint it. Maybe it was the darkness that resembled Basilio’s or maybe the way he wore his three-piece-suit.
“Hello,” I greeted him again. “I’m Wynter.”
“I’m Priest,” he introduced himself. I stiffened for a second, remembering Bas’ explanation for his nickname. This man administered a man’s last rites before he killed him. Yet, he looked too handsome to be a psycho. Jesus!
“Don’t scare my girlfriend,” Bas growled and instantly my worry evaporated. He’d never let Priest recite any last rites to me. He’d kick his ass.
So I smiled and extended my right hand. He took it in a firm grip. “Nice to meet you, Wynter.”
“You too.” I studied him curiously. He was extremely good looking. Kind of mysterious and charismatic. Of course, nothing like Basilio. Though there was one thing the two cousins shared. The ruthless aura about them.
“Let me guess, you were born in winter,” Priest teased.
I shook my head. “Actually not even close.”
His eyebrow shot up. “I’m intrigued. Why Wynter then?”
“It was my grandmother’s name,” I explained. “Mine is just spelled differently. My grandpa insisted on having a grandchild named after his true love.”
“Romantic family, huh?” he deadpanned.
I shrugged my shoulders, returning my attention to Bas who listened intently. “Basilio is a romantic name,” I said, smiling.
Priest’s laugh vibrated through the air, mixing with the beat of music. “Man, I got to share that with Dante. He will piss his pants.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, that’s so mature,” I muttered sarcastically and Priest laughed even harder.
“I can see why Basilio likes you.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks and I glanced at the man that swept me off my feet. I never blushed, until I met this man.
Bas’ gaze was full of promises, his darkness unapologetic. He didn’t bother denying it and I loved him even more for it. The way his burning gaze caressed my face promised pleasure and sins.
“I like him too,” I murmured, uncaring who heard me while Bas’ scorching gaze set fire through my bloodstream.
“Basilio, we are meeting with the distributors in five minutes and I wanted to talk about the other stuff.” Priest reminded his cousin. “You two can play after that.”
I rolled my eyes, smiling at Priest’s insinuation. Bas had been nothing but a gentleman all along. Much to my dismay. I might have to take advantage of him if he didn’t make a move soon.
Regret washed over his face, and I thought I heard him grumble ‘fucking business’ under his breath.
“It’s okay,” I said. “Come back when you’re done. I’ll be here,” I assured him.
Bas glanced to the bar and then to the two bouncers on the side, giving them a tense nod. “Those men will keep an eye on you. I’ll be back as fast as I can.”
I nodded. “It’s okay, Bas.”
He took my chin between his fingers, and brushed his thumb over my lower lip. “Save me another dance.”
I grinned. “You got it.” I didn’t want to dance with anyone else, just Bas.
Then he and Priest strode through the crowd that parted for them, sensing the danger. I turned around and strode to the bar area, sitting myself on an empty barstool.
In my peripheral, I noticed a man sitting next to me, but I didn’t bother acknowledging him.
Through the years, I learned some people take a simple greeting as a sign to advance.
I didn’t want anyone’s advances. There was only one man for me and he was seated with Priest behind a large glass window.
He had only left me a few minutes ago and promised he wouldn’t be long.
I shifted on my bar stool and met the bartender's eyes. He wore a white shirt and black vest. It was a different kind of uniform but it kind of worked. It gave it a mobster bar vibe. I had to chuckle at my description.
“What’s so funny, love?” A voice next to me purred, and I shifted away slightly. I could literally feel his hot breath on my neck and I fucking hated it. His light brown hair was ruffled and messy, and his lips curved into a sneering smile.
Choosing to ignore him, I ordered a mineral water. The bartender raised a brow at my choice of drink but said nothing. He saw who seated me here and warned him to give me whatever I wanted. He wouldn’t dare to question Basilio DiLustro’s drink choice.
“Playing hard to get, huh?” The guy next to me continued.
I shot him an icy glare. He was too close for my taste. “I’m not alone.”
Bas might not be here but his bouncers were. Weren’t they?
I threw a quick look over my shoulder but before I could even spot them, the creep’s hand came to my thigh. I shoved it away, disgusted at his touch.
“Excuse me,” I gritted, suddenly feeling on edge. “Keep your hands to yourself.”
He chuckled like I said the funniest thing and I released a breath, sensing agitation simmering underneath my skin. Uncomfortable with the way he was leering at me, I glanced away from him. The man was giving me the creeps.
He reached past me for a toothpick, his arm brushing against me and I shifted even further away. He was giving me serious creep vibes. I readied to stand up and just walk away when his hand grabbed my ass and his stale breath was in my ear.
“You put on that sparkling little dress because you want to get fucked.”
I glared at him and slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me,” I hissed.
I turned away to get away from him when he gripped my arm and pulled me to him. A woman’s yelp sounded somewhere behind me, but I kept my eyes on the danger in front of me.
“Don’t play hard to get, cunt.” His mouth reeked of stale-cigarette breath. “I’m going to fuck you raw and-”
He never got to finish his sentence because the next sound filling the room was his yelp, followed by an agonizing cry. He released me and stumbled onto the floor. I would have stumbled backwards but a set of strong arms caught me. Bas’ scent immediately registered and I exhaled a breath of relief.
My eyes lifted to his face to find his gaze narrowed on the man. His face was devoid of emotion, and if this was the first face I’d seen when I met him, I would have been scared of this man. He wore an unemotional mask but his eyes burned with so much anger, I feared he’d kill someone.
I followed his eyes to the man and I realized Bas had punched him. I had no idea how I missed it but the man was scrambling back to his feet, the area around his right eye already turning blue.
“You touched my woman,” Bas snarled at him and the other man looked like he was about to shit himself. “She tells you she doesn't want you and then you threaten to fuck her?”
Bas’ voice sent a shiver down my back. I finally saw firsthand the kingpin I read about. This was the version of him that was scary as fuck.
The man shook his head frantically, raising his hands. “I didn’t know she was yours.”
Bas looked at me, then at the man who stood behind me.
“Priest, watch her,” he ordered, then before I even had a chance to blink, Bas wrapped his hand around the other man’s throat and lifted him off the ground.
My eyes widened, the whole scene playing in slow motion.
The man’s face turned blood red and his whole body shook as he desperately tried to get footing.
Bas used his free hand to drive his fist into his face. Another punch followed, a crack of a broken nose. And another punch.
Everyone’s attention was on us. They didn’t even bother to hide their stares. Oh my God, if there was a single reporter here, I’d be ruined. No Olympics. Disappointment to Mom. Impact to my skating partner, Derek.
“Bas, he’s not worth it,” I rasped, then took a step to grab his hand, but Priest’s grip tightened on me, trying to drag me away.
My head whirled around to glare at him, only to find Priest’s cold stare aimed at the guy Bas was beating. It was as if he wanted to join his cousin, an excited gleam in his eyes. It was almost terrifying.
Who in the hell gets excited to hurt someone?
My eyes darted around the club. The music no longer played. A few people were recording the whole incident. The two bouncers that were assigned to watch me were keeping the crowd at bay.
“He’s going to get in trouble,” I muttered quietly, glancing back at Bas who was choking the life out of the man.
“You touched her,” Bas roared.
“I-I didn’t-” The guy never got to finish his statement because Bas tossed him across the room and the man’s body hit the wall with a loud thud, then crumpled to the floor.
“I was just having a bit of fun,” the guy whimpered, then began to cry. “I wasn’t going to hurt her.”
His eyes flitted toward me as if he hoped for my help but that seemed to piss off Bas even more. In five strides, Bas was in front of him again and hunched down, getting into his face.
“Don’t fucking look at her,” he roared. “Now give me your hand that dared to touch her.” The man started bawling. I didn’t feel sorry for him but I didn’t want to see Bas get arrested. “Your hand, or I’ll cut your cock off.”
I frantically glanced at Priest. “Do something,” I hissed on a whisper. “There are people recording this.”
He didn’t seem worried at all. Instead he lifted his left wrist and spoke something into it.
My eyes bulged as I watched bouncers make a round through the room, taking guests’ devices.
I returned my attention to Bas whose face was twisted with rage. It was as if the glimpse of the man I got to know was gone.
This was the ruthless man that the world knew and feared. Basilio DiLustro. The villain in a three-piece-suit.