Page 47 of A Taste Of Darkness

No one had ever paid as much attention to me as he had, and I wasn’t sure why, but it did things to me. It shouldn’t have, I realized, but I didn’t care.

It must’ve been just before midnight when every drink I consumed that night hit me like a wave of ecstasy.

Suddenly, everything was funny. The lights were blurry. My heart was racing. Hadn’t Milo been the one to personally hand me each of my drinks and watch the bartender make them, I wouldn’t have been acting as careless as I had.

If this was what being drunk felt like, God, I never wanted to be sober again.

“Have some fun!” I swung my arms around Milo’s massive body and tried to get him to dance, but this man moved about as much as a brick wall. It was a shame, really. I wanted to dance with him. “Dance with me, Milo.”

He leaned down and spoke loudly over the ear-deafening music. “I’m going to touch you,” he said, to which I laughed at first. Then his hands laid on my waist so strongly, I felt that in the lower bits of my stomach.

My breath spiraled out of my lungs like it never had before. My body was tingling, and I could swear I sobered up, if only for a hot minute.

As I looked into his dark eyes, I could feel my heart flutter, but I was sure it was the alcohol inside of my body that did weird things to me.

To distract myself from those invasive feelings, I began to dance again. My hips swayed to the rhythm of the song, and to my surprise, Milo danced too.

Halfway through the song, Milo turned me around. My back pressed against his front, but that didn’t stop me from dancing. At least until my arms reached up, and I could feel his fingers stroke up my sides. So soft. Such a light touch that I had to really focus on his fingers on my body to feel it.

He traced his fingers along the sides of my breasts, up my arms, then interlocked one hand with mine and swung me back around.

The music stopped playing, at least in my head. There were no sounds, no other people. Just Milo and me, looking at each other.

Milo stood close to me this whole time, and yet right now was the first time I noticed how good he smelled. How handsome he looked when a thousand shades of light illuminated his body. How strange it was that he wore a suit in a nightclub, yet he fit right in.

I noticed the little scar just above his left eyebrow, and how he wasn’t smiling but not frowning either.

“Do you want a drink?” I asked out of fear of the flutter in my stomach. “I want a drink. We should get a drink!” I pulled on his hand, and though I knew I didn’t have to because he’d follow me no matter what, the chaos inside of my head was too much to allow me to think rationally.

This is just the alcohol, I told myself over and over again, but I didn’t even believe myself.

Milo Marucci wasn’t actually that attractive… only that he really was. But he wasn’t my type, he was rude at times, and he killed people.

But he smiled at me most of the time. And he never tried to kill me.

“Are you okay, Sterlie?” Milo asked as soon as we reached the bar, and I dropped down on one of the free barstools. He kept his hands on my body and held me upright. I was sure he thought I’d fall off the barstool if he let go.

I nodded hysterically. “Just thirsty!”

The bartender approached us, but he was new. I guess the other one was done for the night. He smiled at me, but his smile quickly vanished when his eyes moved to the man hovering over me. “What can I get for you, sir?”

Sir? I wanted a drink, not Milo.

Milo must’ve thought the same as me and clearly signaled that to the bartender because his eyes were back on me. “What can I get you, Ma’am?”

I’d tried basic drinks, but all night long, I didn’t ask for anything fruity, so perhaps now was my chance. “I’d like a raspberry lime mojito. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“Do you have heart-shaped ice cubes?” I knew Flora had some before, but I didn’t know what bar she went to. I wasn’t a nightclub kind of girl or a party girl. I spent most of my nights at home, designing. Tonight was a first, and I only felt comfortable because I knew Milo was here to protect me. Perhaps if I was lucky, they had some of those ice cubes here.

The bartender shook his head. “No—” He cleared his throat. “No, Ma’am, but I’m sure I could find a solution to get them for you.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to.”

Fear swam in his eyes, which told me all I needed to know. Without hesitating, I turned around on my barstool and looked up at Milo. He tried to seem as innocent as possible, but I knew he was giving that poor bartender a hard time on purpose.

“Hello, Mr. Protector. Do you mind turning down the unwanted alpha-mode and coming back down to earth?” I asked though it wasn’t as much of a question since I demanded it. Milo couldn’t possibly think ice cubes were going to ruin my night.

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