A devilish smirk curves onto his face, and I scowl.
He lets the woman pull him to the dance floor, and my face heats. I jerk back around and focus on the bartender.
“Hey, Sully? You good to take your break?” another bar tender asks.
Sully turns to me with a knowing grin.
“Yeah,” he calls back to him.
One second passes, then another, before he’s edging his chin to an area that leads to the back.
I nod subtly, but before I go, I down the rest of my Jack and Coke, all while leaving Rome’s Corona alone on the bartop.
I weave through the crowd, ping-ponging my eyes at each of my brothers. They’re all busy talking, mingling, and dancing. Rome’s back is to me with the woman’s hands wrapped around his neck. Each team is split into different sections throughout the bar area, and I’ve kept a close watch on Beau, who hasn’t done so much as look in Rome’s direction. Vinny is too sweptup in the women with barely any clothing on to cause a scene, so I take the bait and push through the swinging doors into the abyss.
It’s dark and stuffy, but his manly cologne gets stronger the farther I step.
“Sully?” I whisper.
His hands find my waist, and desire sweeps me off my feet. I clasp my fingers around his neck, and he pulls me in close.
“Is this okay?” he asks, gruff and low.
“Mm-hmm.”
His mouth hovers over mine. “Can I kiss you?”
Instead of answering him, I press my lips to his. Our tongues move against each other in a slow, intimate way, a little whimper leaving me from the pressing need I’ve pushed away for months now.
It isn’t easy to act on.
Not with how much time I’ve been putting in at work and with my brothers always near.
Rome’s face pops up in my head, and I bite down on Sully’s lip.
A sexy growl rumbles from his chest, and he guides me against the wall. “I’ve never seen such a sweet face before, but damn you kiss like you know what you’re doing.”
I go in for another before breaking away. “That’s because I do.”
His hand travels up my leg, his calluses scraping against my smooth skin. I hook it around his waist, and he squeezes my thigh.
Rome pops into my head again—the brief memory of his hand splayed on my thigh during the press conference days ago.
“When is your break over?” I ask, hoping to continue this so I can rid Rome from my brain. He takes up all the space lately, and I'm desperate for a break.
“Now.”
My heart stalls, and if it weren’t for Sully’s mouth pausing over my neck, I would’ve thought Rome's voice was in my head.
Except, it’s not, and he’s standing less than a foot away from me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
ROME
My sloppy dancepartner doesn’t smell right.
It’s not floral or sweet. It’s too strong and musky, like a spice you’d throw in some fancy entrée.
