His grin expands. “I guess I have my answer.”
And I guess I have mine.La famigliahave many traditions. Not all are adhered to by everyone. But there are exceptions. Like mafia wives. There is a code which most made men abide by: You don’t mess with the wives.
Either this man has no honor or no moral compass or he has no clue who I am. Most likely it’s all of those. Which suits me fine. I don’t need to respect him to fuck him, and I seldom like the men I let into my body.
His attention is laser focused on me as I drain my drink and stand. “A woman with discernible tastes,” he says, his approving stare locked on my curves as I straighten to my full height. “Color me intrigued.” With supreme confidence, he cups my face with one hand while his fingers trace a path over my hair. “What’s your name?”
“Let’s not waste time with such trivialities,” I say as he removes the tie from my hair, freeing my long dark-brown locks from my ponytail.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, weaving his fingers through my hair as it tumbles down my back in straight sheets. “You should always wear your hair down.”
“I don’t take orders from men.” Grabbing my purse, I subtly nod at Renzo.
His lips twitch. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” I drill him with a look as I remove his hand from my face and the other one from my hair. “If you want this, it happens on my terms.”
A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest, the sound doing weird twisty things to my insides. “Are you always this forthright?”
“Are you always this slow?” I trail my fingers up the hard planes of his impressive chest through his shirt.
“There is this thing called foreplay.” He waggles his brows, and holy hotness, I can barely drag my eyes from his face because his features have come alive, and he truly is a sight to behold. He’s like a reincarnated Adonis—a creature designed to snare women with just one look.
“There is this other thing called time.” Reluctantly, I tear my gaze from his, looking over his shoulder at the digital board mounted to the wall. “They have just called boarding for my flight.”
Clasping my hand, he holds it firm as he ushers me toward the exit. “I can be quick.”
“Don’t I fucking know it,” I mumble under my breath, yanking my hand from his. Usually I’m grateful for the two-pump chumps, but I would enjoy more than a quickie with this man because I already know he won’t disappoint.
For that reason alone, it’s best this is over with fast.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Renzo approaching.
The stranger chuckles again. “Say the word and I’ll skip my flight and book us a hotel room.” He moves in closer, pressing his mouth to my ear. “I want to worship your body all night long and hear you screaming my name until you have lost the ability to speak.”
Delicious shivers skate over my body as his warm breath tickles my flesh and the wicked intensity of his words covers me like a second skin. Liquid lust dampens my panties and I discreetly squeeze my thighs as my nipples harden, pressing against the thick material of my dress.
“Do you usually pick up strange women in airports and take them to hotels?” I inquire, handing my purse to Renzo as he reaches my side.
“Do you?” he asks, eyeing Renzo with a mix of curiosity and wariness.
“No. I never pick up strange women in airports,” I deadpan, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the door.
“Not bisexual. Got it.” His gaze drifts to Renzo’s hand on my lower back as we walk toward the door. “Who are you?” he asks, eyeballing my right-hand man.
I decide to have some fun with this. “He’s my husband.” I level a look at Renzo, warning him to play along.
The stranger’s eyes pop wide. “What the fuck is this?”
“Relax,” I say, pulling him out through the door, my gaze skimming the hallway in search of the nearest wheelchair-accessible bathroom. “He won’t be joining us. He’ll just wait for me outside.”
He opens and shuts his mouth in quick succession before shrugging like it’s no biggie.
Huh.
Finding a single bathroom, I stride toward it, enjoying the feel of the man’s strong, warm, callused palm wrapped around mine. Every few seconds, he glances at Renzo, and I know he’s trying to figure me,us, out.
We reach the bathroom, and I’m relieved to find it empty. Keeping the door propped open with my hip, I turn to face my underboss.
