Yet now, he looks at me as if I’m nothing.
As if I never meant a damn thing…
Still, his eyes roam my body. I can’t help but wonder what’s going through that dark mind of his.
“What?” I ask.
“I’m trying to make a decision,” he says slowly, as if savoring every word.
“About?” I try not to sound nervous, but my stomach twists. God, I hope he’s not thinking about killing me. I’m supposed to graduate next week. I’m waiting for my fake ID so I can book a flight out of here.
I have plans.
“If this is indeed a clerical error,” he continues, his voice low and deliberate, “which it may very well be, I should go downstairs and raise holy hell until they give me a new room.”
“And what’s the decision you have to make in there?” I press, my pulse picking up.
His eyes fixate on my chest, and I realize my nipples have gone hard. I cross my arms in a futile effort to cover myself as if he hadn’t sucked and bitten my nipples more times than I can count.
I expect him to say that the decision is between asking for a new room or taking me straight to bed, and I’m honestly kind of down for the latter. I know that’s wrong of me, but this isNik.
He doesn’t say that, though. Instead, his eyes darken in a way that makes my blood run hot.
“This situation,” he says, his voice a growl, “presents a unique opportunity. A boon, really.”
I raise a brow. “A boon?”
“Yes,” he says, stepping closer. “I have a true mafia princess in front of me. A mafia princess… is a good bargaining chip.”
I swear my spirit leaves my body. A bargaining chip? That’s… terrifying. Not surprising, I suppose. This is the Commission, and while direct violence during the meetings is forbidden, that doesn’t mean organizations aren’t plotting to fuck each other over at the earliest opportunity.
“And if I refuse to be your… bargaining chip?” I ask, testing him, even though my pulse is anything but steady.
His eyes flicker with a dark amusement. “Then, princess… You might find yourself in the wrong hands. But lucky for you, I’m feeling generous today. For now.”
Generous.
The word tastes bitter on my tongue. Still, the danger, the command in his voice, the sheer magnetic pull of him, is intoxicating.
It’s not like I didn’t know that Nik could be a dangerous person. And I did know he was Russian and that the club was probably mob-owned.
And I’m a Campisi. Fear isn’t something I’m supposed to show. I’ve made it this far without flinching, and I won’t start now.
He likes my body, I know that much, so I decide to use it to my advantage. He may be a Barkov. He may be a professionalathlete. He may be powerful and dangerous. But he’s still just a man – and a man who finds me attractive.
I stand up straight and walk past him, making sure my breast grazes his arm as I pass. I walk straight out into the living room and to the kitchen.
I pour myself a glass of water and gulp it down, not bothering to pull the thin strap of my nightgown back up. I set the glass on the counter, and the sound fills the quiet space.
He has stepped out into the living room, but only barely. His arms are crossed over his broad chest like a bouncer, daring me to get through the door.
I grin, cocky, and walk out of the kitchen, back through the living room. I brush him again as I go back into the bedroom.
I pull my chemise over my head and let it flutter to the floor as I head into the bathroom.
As I start the shower and let it warm up, I refuse to look at him, but I can feel the darkness of his gaze settling on my naked body.
The air between us is thick, humming with everything we haven’t said, everything we’ve already done.
