Chapter 7
Seven
Ari
I couldn’t sleep. The anticipation of going on a date with my violist was something I had spent years fantasizing about.
And now this? Now that it was really happening, I wasn't sure what to do with myself.
His smell invaded my mind as I tossed and turned in my bed, and my thighs ached at the memory of him leaning down to whisper into my ear.
His mouth had only been inches away from mine.
If I had moved my face only a fraction of an inch, I could have brushed my lips against his.
I needed to know what he would taste like.
I took a cold shower before sunrise, trying to clear my thoughts from the frustration I couldn't seem to get rid of myself.
Reaching between my thighs only left me wanting to feel his hands instead of mine, so I abandoned the search for pleasure and stared at the ceiling until sleep rescued me again.
Ten o’clock came faster than I expected.
I anxiously bounced from one foot to the other in front of my hotel, staring out into the quiet still of the dark city as I searched for the familiar shadow of my violist. Thankfully there was no rain tonight, but dark clouds still loomed overhead, hiding the moon and stars from view.
“Nice shoes.”
I jerked my head to the right, surprised to see him leaned against one of the poles that was holding up the awning. A small smirk was already pulling at the edges of his mouth as he eyed me from head to toe.
“Hi,” I said quietly as a nervous smile made its way to my face.
He was dressed in all black again, wearing perfectly fitted dress pants held up by a leather belt, and a tailored black suit jacket that covered a dress shirt.
He ran his fingers through his messy hair, and the glint of silver rings and a simple silver watch caught my eye.
He looked confident. Even more than he had last night, and I wrapped my arms around my midsection as anxiety skittered across my body.
“Where are you taking me?”
He held out his arm toward the empty street and motioned with his head as a coy smile appeared. “After you. It’s just down the street.”
My feet obeyed his command, but I was happy to do whatever the fuck he wanted me to do. All I wanted tonight was to convince him that he couldn’t live without me, and it started now—here—by not asking more questions. If he wanted to surprise me, I wasn't going to pry.
I walked through the streets of Milan with my violist, and his fingertips grazed the base of my spine as we walked past couples walking arm in arm in the darkness.
His touch was possessive, but he wasn't doing it to rush me.
No. Despite his attitude and that damn air of superiority he carried that made me ache to find out just how dominant he would be over me, it was crystal clear that he never rushed anything.
His movements were smooth, and I saw plainly that the passion he had for his music bled into everything else he did as well. Every breath. Every glance he stole my way that I pretended not to notice. Every flex of his left hand as it moved back and forth beside him as we walked.
Maybe he was nervous. I was.
My heart thundered in my chest with every step, and when we made our way into a small but busy wine bar, I found myself reaching for the fabric of V’s jacket so that I wouldn't get lost in the crowd.
As we squeezed into an empty space near the back of the room, his grip on my waist tightened ever so slightly as I slipped my fingers into the front of his black jacket, but he never looked down to meet my stare.
The music was too loud for me to hear what anyone was saying around us, and I was pretty sure it was all in Italian anyway, so I didn't pay too much attention to anything other than the way V’s hair had darkened to a deep red in the dim light.
The bar was even older than it had looked from outside, and I moved to slip onto the only empty barstool as V gently pushed me backwards onto it.
“What do you want to drink?” he asked into my ear, his knuckles brushing against my neck as his hot breath danced across my earlobe.
“Anything,” I breathed out, my eyes darting over the bar for whatever kind of liquor they could find. It didn’t really matter. Tequila. Bourbon. Nothing would ever compare to the intoxication that coursed through my veins from his touch.
“Surely you have a preference,” he muttered darkly into my ear, sending tingles down the backs of my arms as his thumb lightly traced the edge of my jaw, right where it came to a slight point in front of my ear.
His fingers pressed lightly, almost too lightly for me to register, but I tilted my head back for him anyway, just like I had in my dream.
His body tensed up beside me, and I reveled in the way it felt to have his full attention.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” I smirked, my words slurring together slightly as I looked up into his eyes.
In the dim light, his brown irises shone almost red, but I found them to be enticing.
Entrancing. I wanted to drown in them, lose myself in every second of them.
I leaned forward slowly, hoping to press my lips to his, but instead of leaning into me like I hoped he would, he pulled his hands from my body and turned toward the bar, making a fist hard enough with his left hand until his knuckles turned white.
I didn’t have time to process the disappointment of the rejection before he had caught the attention of one of the bartenders.
I strained my ears to listen as he motioned to the rows of bottles along the back wall, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying.
I just recognized that he was ordering something.
All I could do was watch in awe as my violist interacted with the world around him with ease. Everything seemed so easy for him, and I found it strangely alluring. The glint of his silver watch caught my eye as he checked the time, and I was shocked to see it was already ten thirty.
“Don’t worry. It’s early,” he said, capturing my attention again. I looked up to see him motioning to his watch. “There’s still plenty of time.”
I nodded once, feeling a blush creep up my neck at the fact that I'd been caught. I wasn’t sure what exactly he was referring to that we needed time for, but something deep down told me all roads led to me going back home with him.
Dear fucking God, I hoped all roads led to that, because at this point, I would have to fuck a random man off the street if V didn’t take me home.
“What?” He said, tilting his head slightly at me.
All I could do was smile sheepishly in response. I’d never admit to what I was thinking. “Nothing, sorry.”
His gaze dropped to my mouth and his pupils dilated. “You know, you’re not what I was expecting.”
“In a bad way?” I said quickly, looking away from him as I bit my lip. I tried to play off the panic that reared its ugly head, but he didn’t say anything. When I looked back up, I was surprised to see him staring at me with intrigue, not distaste.
His jaw tightened slightly, but whatever new expression was creeping onto his face was interrupted by the bartender dropping off two small glasses of dark liquid.
Once the man had walked away again, I watched as V spun the ice at the bottom of one of the small glasses, turning it slowly between his fingers as the liquid clung to the sides.
“In a curious way,” he said at last.
“Alright. I’ll take that,” I laughed softly, reaching for my own glass.
His eyes were sharp as he watched every move I made. “You shouldn’t.”
That made my smile falter. “Why not?”
“Because curiosity rarely ends where people think it will.” He stared at the liquid for another second before finally lifting it to his lips, but instead of taking a sip, he tipped it slightly, letting the rim hover just beneath his mouth, but his gaze never left my face.
“It tends to cost them more than they’re prepared to give. ”
The music thudded around us, the press of bodies shifting closer as more people filled out the bar, but there was a small pocket of space carved out just for us.
I was hyperaware of the heat coming off his body in waves, struggling to focus on anything other than how close his knee was to mine, but his attention pinned me into place.
It was everything I wanted, and I would do anything to keep it. I didn’t care what it cost.
“You make everything sound dangerous,” I said with a smile, trying to sound like I was teasing, but I wasn’t sure I’d succeeded.
His mouth curved faintly in response and my pulse quickened again. “Isn’t it?”
I reached for my own glass, taking a sip just to give my hands something to do.
The liquor was dark and rich, tingling my throat as it went down, but I exhaled to stop the burn.
I watched him over the rim of my glass, half-expecting him to finally take a sip too, but he didn’t.
Instead, his gaze drifted—not to my mouth this time, but lower. My collarbone. My throat.
I felt my throat bob as I swallowed, and raised my chin slightly as a blush crept onto my cheeks. “Why are you watching me like you’re waiting for something?” I asked, my voice quieter now.
“Am I?” He stole another glance at the silver watch on his wrist, but I saw it.
“Yes,” I said quietly, realizing he must be trying to find a way to excuse himself early from our date. “If you want to leave, you can just say so. You don’t have to stay on my account.”
Something unreadable flashed across his face—so fast I might have imagined it—and he set the untouched glass down on the bar. “Make no mistake. I have no intention of going anywhere without you tonight.” There was hunger in his gaze, now, and I felt my pulse flutter at the implication of his words.
It only took a moment to process the hidden meaning behind this verbal dance we were playing, and the darkness of his flirting made my skull tingle with anticipation. “Do you want to… go somewhere… quieter?”