Page 27 of Tainted Love

“Come on, Lucy Vaughn.” He locks his eyes with mine, forcing me to take in the shimmering shade of blue. “It’s just dinner.”

“You do realize you’re the man holding my father hostage, right?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” he says, smirking.

“It’s relevant because I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”

He holds up his hands. “Then, we agree you have no choice. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Mr. Hart, I played my role in your arrangement with my father. I spent the night with you, I laughed at your jokes, I put out for you, and I did it all with a smile on my face.”

“Debatable.”

“That is all we ever agreed to and there is no reason for this arrangement to continue on in any way, shape, or form.”

“Sure, there is.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.”

“Enlighten me, then,” I say. “Give me one good reason why I should go out with you tonight.”

Dante licks his lips and takes hold of me. I inhale quickly to object, but his mouth finds mine, silencing me with a firm kiss. There’s passion on his breath and it bewitches me without a second thought. His teeth rake across my bottom lip, drawing a tender moan from the back of my throat. He strikes a fire throughout my body with a single flick of his tongue before releasing my lips.

His eyes open, reflecting a crippling desire back at me. “I’ll pick you up at seven, Ms. Vaughn,” he whispers.

“Okay,” I say, barely breathing. His hands fall from my body and he turns around to leave. “Wait, you don’t even know where I live.”

“I’ll find you.”

He exits without glancing back at me once.

I grip the balance beam to keep from falling over. My lips throb, pulsing with blood, feeling the phantom tug of his mouth.

Oh, now I’m in trouble…

Chapter 9

Lucy

So, what does a girl wear out to dinner with a mobster?

I stand in front of my closet, repeating the question over and over again, glancing quickly at the clock every few moments to be sure I still have time. My hair is ready. My make-up is done.

What the fuck do I wear?

Something tight but easy to take off…

I chew on my thumbnail, feeling my cheeks turn pink. Come on, Lucy. It’s just dinner. He said it’s just dinner, but…

Is it ever really just dinner? What else is he expecting here? Sex, obviously, but what else? When a girl dates an associate — or whatever — of the Zappia crime family, does that make her an accessory? By even agreeing to dinner, have I set myself up for some serious legal trouble down the road? Could I go to jail for this? What do you even wear to court these days?

Black. I’ll wear black.

I slide the hangers back, sifting through various blouses and tops until I find my dresses. One stands out near the back, something I haven’t worn in ages because it’s just too damn nice for casual outings. I don’t want to wear anything too casual and risk — you know — disrespecting the hitman who’s picking up the tab.

I slide it over my head and wiggle until the bottom reaches my thighs. The scoop top hangs on my shoulders, attached to tight, black mesh sleeves all the way down to white cuffs that hug my wrists. I slide my hands down my body, making sure the dress still fits like a damn glove. The bottom grazes my kneecaps. Perfection.

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