The salt from the rim mixed with the tequila hits my taste buds, letting it burn the back of my throat. I try not to make a face, but ultimately, I can’ help it. Right when I’m about to take another sip, the hairs on the back of my neck stand, and a chill runs down my spine. The uneasy feeling that I felt when I was shopping with Gianna all those weeks ago comes rushing back and my stomach starts to feel queasy. My heart beings to beat fast to with my breathing as my gaze darts looking around the club to find where I feel someone’s eyes watching me.
Gianna turns my way and notices how I cannot stop looking around. “Isabella, are you okay?” Her voice breaks whatever trance that I’m in because I blink at her a few times, trying to calm myself down before the panic starts to erupt inside me.
I reach for my drink and take another sip before I say, “I thought someone was watching me.”
She reaches out to squeeze my other hand that is resting on the bar top. “They must be very dumb if they think they would be able to get into this club.”
I tilt my head with a confused look on my face. “What do you mean?”
The coldness leaves my body and is replaced by what feels like fire. There is only one person that seems to have that effect on me, well, one man and that would be my husband. I squeeze my thighs together when his deep, rough voice tickles my ear. “Because this is my nightclubamuri mui. I own this establishment, and if there are scum that show their face here when they were not given permission, well, they meet their fate.”
His tatted hand slides to my middle making me turn in my chair to face him. Jesus, this man that I can get to call my husband is fucking hot. The black suit, the only one I believe that this man owns is tailored made for his muscular body. I know what lies beneath the fabric. My mouth waters at the image of my husband naked, and letting the fantasies come to life.
My left hand slides up his chest, my wedding rings sparkle among the lights around us. “I thought you were working?” I ask him playfully prepared for him to tell me that its none of my business.
He bends, and gently kisses my hand on his chest. “I’m always working, baby even when you’re asleep.” I’m still getting use to him calling me baby. It’s not that I don’t like it, but I prefer him calling me his wife oramuri mui,which I have no idea what it even means. “I had a meeting that ended about twenty or so minutes ago.”
“Whoa, I didn’t think you’d actually tell me.”
He moves his other hand to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “You’re thinking too much.” The corners of his full lips pull into a small smile. “You can always ask me about my day, and I willdo my best to tell you how it was. This is our life, Isabella. I want to share everything with you.”
Gianna clears her throat, and I had forgotten she was behind me because when Enzo is near me, it’s as if everything around me has disappeared except for him and me.
He moves his heated gaze from me to his sister, his commanding voice tells her, “Gianna, Angelo will take you home.” I turn to her and the anger she is feeling about Enzo telling her that she is leaving is written all over her face. “Do not fight me on this, Gianna. You know it was not a good idea to come out period let alone, bring my wife, who thought someone was following her the last time she went out. Or being shot at a restaurant.” Gianna opens her mouth, and he barks at her, “Now, Gianna.”
Right on cue Angelo steps up behind her, without missing a beat she downs the rest of her drink, slams it down on the bar top, and hollers to Camilo. “Put this on the bosses tab.” Enzo sighs behind me. “Camilo, call me so we can hang out.” She blows him a kiss and slides off the stool. Enzo is cursing in Sicilian behind me, and I’m sure Gianna just put a target on his back. But Angelo looks like he is the one who would kill Camilo for touching Gianna.
Gianna hugs me and I hug her back. She whispers in my ear, “Who knows, maybe tonight I can break down Angelo.” We release each other, steps back, and goes to leave but rolls her eyes at Enzo on the way. Angelo falls behind her, glaring at anyone who dares to look at her.
“Enzo, I’m sor––”
Angelo escorting out Gianna when he says, “Don’t.” His voice is low and laced with anger when he turns to face me. The irises of his brown eyes have darkened. His face is hard with how his jaw is tight. I have ever only seen him this one time and it was on the day of our wedding when he killed Ian.
I take the hint and choose not to argue with him or even question him. His callous hand slips into mine, pulling me away from the bar, away from my barely touched margarita. Shit that was a good drink too. We start to move through the backside of the club, up a set of stairs that is roped off. A man who is standing guarding the area, lifts the rope, allowing both of us through. The man bends his head at Enzo before letting the metal clip clank with the rope stand. We climb the stairs one by one with the music fading out and more of a mumble mixed with my heart beating in my chest. I’m trailing behind Enzo and admiring him.
My pussy is wet, aching for my husband to touch me as I have become addicted to him. The way his black dress pants fit his thick muscular thighs that are powerful to hold my weight when I sit on his lap. Which all is due to him working out daily. The muscles in his matching suit jacket ripple with tension as we near the top. Another man, matching at the bottom, does the same thing as we approach. We walk down a hallway, and the music is pretty much nonexistent. The walls are the same pattern as downstairs and has the same type of lighting as well.
Enzo stops at a door, enters a code and the door clicks before he pushes it open. His hand is still laced with mine before he slides out our grip to gesture for me to enter. I swallow, pushing down the anticipation of what is to come and step into the room.
He shuts the door, and my head peers over my shoulder to watch him lock it before he stalks deeper into the room. I move my gaze to look at the room we are in. The walls are a deep red, with black accents, and in the middle of the room, is a big black leather chair. It’s a chair mixed with a lounger. There is this black metal design around it, closing it in with red lights illuminating the whole space. I turn to the left to see there is a glass table with an assortment of alcohol bottles.
Enzo walks over to the tall glass table, unbuttons his jacket, slipping it off him before grabbing a bottle of an amber colored liqueur. I watch him pick up a glass tumbler, pour the red, amber liquid into the cup, and stalks over to the chair. He sits down, drink still in his hand and the bottle placed at his feet. My body is tingling with anxiety and excited.
He brings the glass to his lips, takes a sip before his dark, raspy voice says, “Crawl to me.” I stare at him, stunned at what he is telling me. He raises his eyebrow at me, and I lower myself to the floor, on my knees and lean forward setting my hands down. My arms are straight, back arched slightly, and I start to do as I am told. Our heated eyes are locked onto each other. He watches each move I make toward him and his breathing is slightly increased. His nostrils flaring. His fingers are gripping the cup in his hand that it could shatter if he clutches it any tighter.
I stop in front of him, sit up on my knees and look at up him with my hands on my thighs.
“Open your mouth.”
I open my mouth.
“Show me your tongue.”
I stick my tongue out.
“Baby, the things I want to do to your mouth. That will have to wait for another time for me to fuck it.” He leans forward, takes a sip of his drink, hovering above my mouth, opens his and pours the drink from his mouth into mine. The sweetness and spice of the Disaronno hits my tongue mixed with the taste of Enzo.
I am soaked, and my pussy is wet and begging to be touched.
