So why the hell does she make my blood burn? Why does her defiance turn me on instead of pushing me away?
The questions vanish when I claim her mouth again, deep and hard, my hand tangling in her hair. I yank just enough to drag a small, needy moan from her, a sound that tells me she’s slipping right where I want her.
“Cherries are my new favorite flavor.” I smirk, tilting her head to the side and looking at her lust-filled eyes and her lipstick-smeared lips before I take the bottle of whiskey from the table and take a sip from it. Taking her jaw in my hand, I widen her mouth until it opens, and then I spit it into her mouth and slam my lips on hers, swiping my tongue over hers. She tries to swallow, but it spills from the sides of her mouth, down her chin, and onto her neck. I let go of her mouth and lick the liquor from her neck up to her mouth. I place my hand on her waist as she straddles me, pulling her toward me and licking the liquor from the other side of her neck. Her head falls backwards; her back arches, and she lets out another moan. Her pussy grinds on my throbbing cock that is begging for a release.
I haven’t indulged in this kind of interaction since I was in my early twenties, but it has been a long time since then. All my relationships were strictly out of the public eye. Now, here I am, licking alcohol off some girl’s skin. A girl whose name I don’t even know. Woman, not girl. One I don’t know anything about, other than that she has been driving me crazy ever since she walked in in this skirt. Or maybe it’s her feisty attitude.
One of my hands sneaks under her skirt, squeezing her perfectly shaped ass. Her hands fall onto my shoulders as she slowly moves up and down on my cock.
“Fuck.” I hold her hips with my hands. If she keeps doing this, I’ll come in my pants.
She smiles and bites her lower lip. “You still haven’t earned for me to get on my knees.”
I chuckle. “Is that so?” She shrugs, like it’s self-explanatory. “How about we get out of here so we can negotiate the terms of that?”
“You have a place in mind?”
“I’m checked into a hotel just a few blocks from here.”
“Nice. I just need to let my friend at the bar know. Meet you outside.” She leans down and swipes her tongue over my lips, teasing me before leaving the booth with a sway in her hips.
I stand and adjust my cock in my pants before taking one last sip from the bottle. I walk outside, and I can feel the burning on the side of my face. I don’t need to look. I know this place is full of made men. Camorrists, which I’m not. They may or may not know who I am. My eyes scan the club before I turn and walk toward the exit.
The night is warm, and I have a perfect plan for how to take this night to a higher level. The vision of what I will do to the girl who tastes of cherries occupies my mind as I watch her walk toward me, until I’m interrupted.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t touch her,” a tall young man says.
My eyes fall to his. “Excuse me?”
“You don’t know who she is?” He smirks and shakes his head. “If you want to stay alive, you should run as far as you can.”
I laugh. If he thinks he can talk to me like that, he is in for disappointment. “Why? Who is she?”
“She's De Angelo’s daughter. Her fiancé is an underboss and one of the most ruthless men in Chicago.”
My eyebrows shoot up. Fuck. “I don’t believe you. If what you say is true, why is she here? Wouldn’t she be, I don’t know, under lock and key or something?”
“Yes, but her brother is taking over, and now she thinks she can order us around.”
“You don’t like that?” My eyes catch her moving through the crowd. I watch her stop to talk to someone, and it all makes sense.
His eyes narrow at me. “It isn’t up to me. I’m loyal to my boss, and I do what he says.”
I scan him from head to toe. “Who is your boss?”
He pulls his hand from his pocket, a knife catching the light as he comes at me. In a blink, I clamp onto his wrist and slam him into the wall behind him. He’s strong, but he has nothing on me. It doesn’t take long before his knife is on the floor and his wrists are secured in my hands.
“What the hell is going on here?” my cherry doll asks.
Cherry doll. I like how it sounds. It’s fitting, but if she is who this guy claims, I have doubts I will get a chance to taste her again.
“I don’t know.” I narrow my eyes at her. “Maybe you can answer that question. And while you’re at it, explain why he says you're a De Angelo and that you’re engaged.”
She rolls her eyes. “First, what does it matter who I am? Second, I don’t have a fiancée, not that it’s any of your business.”
Rage fills my blood, and my grip on the bastard’s wrist tightens as I point his face at her. “And did you order him to attack me?”
“Why would I do that?”
