Bewildered and oddly turned on—which was beyond politically incorrect of me, but not enough for me to cringe—I ducked into Stan’s space. “If you kill him, then our night will be derailed, baby.”
“He insulted you,” he seethed.
“Yes, he did. But he’s already beat to fuck. I think that’s enough.”
Stan’s teeth ground together.
“I don’t need you to do this for me.” I didn’t know if I’d gotten through to him, so I tacked on, “Please, my love.”
That seemed to bring him back to me. But not before he brought up his knee again. This time, he jabbed the asshole in the family jewels twice then tossed him on the floor like trash.
He twisted around to yell at Luigi, “Throw him out. Put him on the ‘no entry’ list.”
Luigi nodded like this was normal, picked up the guy’s foot, then used it to drag him over the crud on the dance floor.
I stacked my hands on my hips. “Is this how every evening out is going to go?”
His scowl darkened, but before we could argue, he hauled me into his arms, sweeping me wide as he carried me over to the bar.
With my mouth close to his ear, I bit the lobe. Enough to hear him hiss in pain.
Then, I settled with a pout as he carried me through a back room, where the music didn’t throb through the walls as much.
“I liked it out there,” I argued.
“We’re going to the owner’s area.”
“Why do you have one of those?”
“Jen likes to dance and Luciu got sick of keeping men off her. I understand why now.”
Ahh, that was why it looked like it wasn’t Luigi’s first time.
"Lemme guess, you gave him shit for it?”
“I did.”
“You owe him an apology.”
He grunted.
I was no lightweight, but that he lugged me around like I weighed nothing went someway to cutting out my funk with him.
Especially as we traversed only God knew how much territory. The back end of the club appeared bigger than the front, which was surely an impossibilityoran improbability—talk about a Tardis. Never mind that the corridors were practically labyrinthine and wound us around in what seemed like circles.
When we reached the box, I’d admit it was an upgrade.
It consisted of an intimate dance floor for max four people, or two people fucking, the music vibrated off the walls, a tableto the side hosted bottles of Champagne, a wet bar housed hundreds of spirits, and an open door led to a gorgeous bathroom—complete with a freakin’ hot tub!
“You ready for me to put you down?”
I arched a brow at him. “You were picking me up before Luigi interrupted us.”
“Fucking Luigi. Need to wash my hands,duci. Not going to touch you with the same ones that handled filth.”
“And they say romance is dead,” I cooed. “I’ll let you put me down.”
His nose scrunched up like he didn’t know if I was mad or not. I wasn’t about to clue him in, so I simply watched him once he’d carried me over to a small restroom and deposited me beside the door.
