Chapter 10 #2
The corded muscle of his bicep flinches just slightly, straining from within his light blue short-sleeved t-shirt.
An intricate tattoo is wrapped around the length of his right arm, stretching up from his knuckles.
I try to coyly make it out, but it’s hard to see anything beyond the thorny vines, black roses, and a skull.
He doesn’t bother moving out of the way, not that I really want him to. I bite the inside of my cheek. Desire to run my nails over his buzz cut while riding his face has my core in a state of frenzy.
The man is hot.
Sorry, Pat. This girl may be riding a different joystick tonight.
“You handled that well back there,” he finally says, over the wave of thundering music, the tone of his voice draped in a sensual rasp as he gestures with his chin toward where the incident from earlier took place.
I prop a hand on my hip, lifting a brow. “You sound surprised. What? Never seen a woman handle her shit before?”
He chuckles low and deep, his gaze slipping to my lips before crawling back up to my eyes. “Never that well.”
Warmth pools at my core from the way he gazes at me, from the way the words fall from his lips as though he’s reading a poem rather than just speaking simple words.
I let my eyes roam down the length of him, letting him know he wasn’t subtle when he took an obvious peek at my lips, and I’m not about to be either. Maybe I really should fuck him. He looks like he’d know just what to do.
I clear my throat. “Maybe you haven’t been around the right women, then.”
I’m met with the most awfully handsome lopsided grin. And he even has a fucking dimple like Dom once did, except his were on both sides.
I pull in a small breath, swallowing down the tightening throb in my throat. As I raise my chin and straighten my spine, my attention reverts back to the sexy stranger.
“You’re right. Maybe I haven’t been around the right type of woman yet.” His gaze slinks over my breasts, his deep, gravelly voice slicing through all of my clothes, landing right in between my thighs. “So how about I start now?”
Time for me to get out of here before I really do invite him to my office. Did I mention it’s soundproof?
“I should really be going,” I mutter under my breath but loud enough for him to hear, too turned on to get my legs to move.
His tongue darts out, swiping over his lower lip as his eyes tangle with mine. I can’t look away. His carnal prowess over my body is a magnetism I can’t shake.
He leans in, his breath warm over my lips.
Intoxicating.
“Stay.” The word is silkier than his gaze, caressing me with a burst of flames, heating me from the inside. “I know you want to.”
I scoff at his advances, not wanting him to see a bend in my armor.
“I’m gonna go now. I have a club to run, in case you haven’t noticed. Make sure you’re a good little boy and don’t do what the other one did. I wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty face.”
He chuckles in response. “You think I’m pretty, huh?”
His eyes zero in on my mouth and he clenches his jaw, enhancing the hollows beneath his cheekbones. And that jawline? Sharp and etched to perfection. I want to run the tip of my finger over the stubble there.
“Please. Like you don’t know you’re attractive.” My eyes roll teasingly.
He smirks. “It’s nice to hear it from a beautiful woman.”
I pop a brow like I’m bored, but I’m smiling internally. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“May I buy you a drink?”
“Nope. I’m on the clock and I don’t drink.”
“I just saw you down a shot.” He grins. “You’re not as good at lying as you are at punching men, are you?”
I shrug a shoulder, the corner of my mouth curling up with a barely there smile.
“Come on, one drink.” He runs his large hand over the back of his neck, his silver watch—which I suspect is a Rolex—on full display. “I won’t take too much of your time. I’ll even make it a virgin.”
“I’m not much of a virgin…drinker.”
A smile tugs on his lips before he leans in, so close I can hear his breaths and feel them wisping over that sensitive spot below my ear. “Well, then I promise to make it extra dirty.”
I suck in a breath. His words reach inside me, filling me with all kinds of terribly inappropriate, yet equally delicious thoughts.
Did I just pant? Oh, fuck me. I just panted like a damn virgin, didn’t I?
My toes curl within the confines of my boots. The idea of sleeping with him doesn’t sound so bad now.
He pulls back, his lids hooded with the same desire coursing through me. “So, about that drink…”
My pulse races while he continues to stare, as though he’s thinking about just how dirty we could be together. As though we’re alone and he’s already undressing me.
A frazzled exhale slips out from my lips. “Fine. One drink. That’s it.”
He chuckles dryly. “We’ll see.”
What the hell does that mean?
But I don’t ask. I’ll survive for one drink with my sexy stranger, and then I’ll never see him again. Unless he becomes a regular, and in that case, we’re definitely fucking. I can only behave for so long.
I take a step back to the bar, taking a seat on a swivel chair, while he takes the one next to me. He pulls it really close, leaning his thigh into mine, causing my inner ones to tighten into one another.
I stare at the liquor bottles, the TVs above, anywhere but at him. Every time his eyes hold mine, it’s like I’m held in place by an invisible pull, one that refuses to let go until we do something about it.
He waves for the bartender while I internally scold myself for being so pathetic. So what if the hot guy with the muscles in all the right places is flirting with me?
I’m Chiara fucking Bianchi. I don’t cower to any man. They cower to me.