Chapter 2

2

Massimo

She opens her mouth to speak, and I‘m sure she's going to deny my earlier comment. Which is what most women would do. But I should have known she's not like anyone else. Her expression turns angry, then contemplative. "You have me there. I do find you attractive. All the more reason I should leave."

"You should stay." I search her features. "If not, you'll always wonder how it would have turned out if you had, and you'll forever regret that you didn't."

She bites the inside of her cheek, and this time, anger glints in her eyes. "It's bullshit that you'd say that to me. It's even worse that I can't help but believe it."

"I always endeavor to call it as I see it," I murmur. And what I see is a woman who's so appealing that I can't let her walk away from me without getting to know her better.

"Shall we?" I hold out my hand, indicating the booth in the far corner of the bar.

She looks at it, then at me.

"And if I refuse?"

"You know you don't want to."

"Don't I?" She tips up her chin, and juts out her lower lip. Fuck, if I don't want to bend over and bite down on her mouth right now.

I tilt my head. She glowers at me, then blows out a breath. "Fine, but you'll follow me." She pivots and marches off to the booth. I follow her, getting a good eyeful of her sweet, pear-shaped butt poured into skin-tight jeans.

My pants feel tighter by the second, and I reach down and adjust myself. How the hell am I going to sit opposite her when all I can think of is throwing her on the table, shoving her thighs open, and feasting on the delicious flesh between her legs? The blood drains to my groin. Every muscle in my body tenses. I manage to tear my gaze off of her, and reach the booth to slide in opposite her. Uncomfortable as fuck, given my tightened pants, but what-fucking-ever.

A waiter instantly materializes.

"Whiskey, on the rocks," I order.

"Would you like to order food?" he asks.

"Get us the drinks first."

When he leaves, she arches an eyebrow at me. "Thought you didn't want me to drink anymore."

"That's not for you; that's for me." I smirk.

She scowls. "How very chauvinistic of you to think I'm going to sit here and watch you drink and not drink myself."

"I haven't had a drink all evening. You, on the other hand, have been chugging down tequila like the bar is going to run out of it."

"Been watching me all evening, have you?" she asks lightly.

"I have, actually, from the moment I walked into the bar," I say without hesitation.

She blinks. "That's very honest of you."

"I already told you, I don't believe in wasting words."

"Yet, here you are." She places her elbows on the table, locks her fingers together, and rests her chin on them.

"Oh, this is not a waste of either of our time, since we both know where this is headed."

She glances away. I can practically hear the wheels spinning in her head. She stays that way for a few more seconds, then turns to me. "You're right, I want to fuck you."

"You're wrong." I nod toward the bartender who places the whiskey in front of me and the water in front of her, then leaves. I take a sip of the whiskey. " I am going to fuck you ."

She laughs. "Awfully confident, aren't you?"

"Only when I know the odds are in my favor."

"Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?"

"Am I?" I tap my finger against my glass.

Her gaze narrows. Once more, she seems angry... At me? At herself? Then, just like that, it seems to drain away from her face. "No, you're not."

The tension fades from my shoulders. Fuck me. Had I been that unsure of myself? At first. I've never had to proposition a woman before. Most of them can't wait to jump into bed with me. All I have to do is crook a finger and they'll come running. This woman, though, is making me work for it, and fuck, if it isn't increasing the anticipation of where this evening's going to end.

She leans forward in her seat. "But for this to work, there are rules which need to be followed."

"Oh?"

She nods. "No names. No addresses. No contact details. One night. We fuck, and then we go our separate ways."

"Hmm." I contemplate the whiskey in my glass. It's what I want, isn't it? No complications or problems. A straightforward sexual encounter. The kind which would be blistering, given the chemistry between us. It's exactly what I'm looking for. I'm not looking for a long-term relationship, or indeed, to get married. Not like my brothers who have, one-by-one, found the loves of their lives and settled down. I'm nowhere near ready for that. What I'm looking for is a good fuck—the kind of sex that'll allow me to forget the responsibilities I carry on my shoulders for the Cosa Nostra . It's why I drove out to this bar, a place I tend to frequent because it's far away from my brothers' usual haunts.

Over the years, I've tended to come here when I need to get away from it all. I normally book a room above the bar for the night and sleep off my hangover before returning home. Only the owner knows my identity, and he swore to keep it secret.

Maybe the bartender suspects I'm Cosa Nostra. If he does, he's never given any indication. And I'd prefer to keep it that way. Normally, I prefer to keep a low profile and not talk to anyone, but today, I walked into the bar and spotted her instantly.

Her tight jeans and blood-red corset had made my balls tighten. I knew, even before she turned her head, she'd be beautiful—her auburn hair curling down her back, her luscious hips thrust out as she leaned forward to take a drink. I knew then, I wasn't going up to my room alone. I'm going to have her. Things are working out. I'm going to fuck her, and then walk away in the morning. So why am I not satisfied? Why do I want more?

"What about hard limits?" I murmur.

"Excuse me?"

I glance up to find her gaping at me. "Did you just ask?—"

I tilt my head. "About your limits. Is anything off the table tonight?"

Her nostrils flare. Color sears her cheeks. In the dim lighting, red highlights glimmer among the strands of her gorgeous auburn hair.

"If I say no, would you accept it?" she finally asks.

"No," I say flatly.

She reaches over, takes the glass from my hand, and sips from it.

"Should I have a safe word?"

"When you're with me, you won't need a safe word. You'll trust me to handle your body the way I think you'd want me to."

"That's a lot of trust you're asking me to put in a stranger." She wrinkles her nose.

So damn adorable. "The very fact that you're here talking to me means you trust me," I point out.

She seems to think about it, then nods. "About the hard limits then..." She juts out her lips. "No anal?—"

"Unacceptable. And that's not what I meant. You know that."

"Wait, what?" She opens and shuts her mouth. "How am I supposed to know that?"

"I plan to take your pussy, your ass, your mouth, every hole in your body, and many times over before the night is out. We clear about that?"

She swallows. Her breath hitches. Her chest rises and falls, and if I glance at her breasts, I'm sure I'll find her nipples outlined against the corset-like top she's wearing.

"Are. We. Clear?" I ask again.

She nods. "So, if I don't have a safe word, and if we're not establishing hard limits, how do we proceed?"

I rake my gaze over her features, then reach over and take the glass from her. "We'll have to play it by ear."

"By ear?"

"I won't do anything outside of what I outlined earlier."

"So, no hard-core S not until I try it, I suppose."

"I promise not to go into the hard-core stuff." I hold up my hand.

"So, you have been into the more hard-core stuff?"

"Why do you want to know? Are you jealous?"

She scoffs. "Why would I be jealous? I was merely curious."

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to." I allow my lips to widen in a grin.

"Your attitude is annoying." She reaches across the table, grabs for my glass, and I hold it out of reach.

"I don't want you to be drunk. I need to you to be wide awake, alert, and in full possession of all of your faculties when we fuck." I drain the glass and place it on the table with a snap, then rise to my feet.

Her cheeks turn fiery. Her pupils dilate. "Anyone ever tell you, you're a true gentleman, the way you speak?" Her voice comes out rough, and she clears her throat.

"You didn't come here to pick up a gentleman. You want someone who can fuck you hard, someone who takes you with enough passion that you see stars. You want—" I reach over and run my knuckles down her forearm. "Someone who can fuck the attitude out of you. And trust me, when I'm done with you, you're going to be feeling the shape of my cock in between your legs for many days to come."