Page 14 of Hot for Her Italian Mafia

Luca

I’ve done this to myself. Danced with the Devil, and now she’s come to claim what’s owed. But it’s not all bad, is it? What’s a soul worth if not the Goddess walking away from me?

Josie’s trembling steps don’t taint the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Those two blue oceans continue to stare and linger, not only on mine but on the rest of my body too. As though she can see my throbbing manhood beneath the table, restlessly fighting against the zip of my trousers.

She’s up to no good. A trend I should get used to, pursuing my little lamb.

“So, what can I get you, gentlemen?” she asks the table over from me.

One of the pack points to a pint glass and gestures to the rest of the table asking if another round is on the cards. His eyes pop out of his skull while he stares Josie down. I should tear them out as a lesson in respect. I’ve done worse for less.

They nod one by one, agreeing to another round.

“Three more,” the man says.

“Only beers?” Josie asks, leaning in and exposing her cleavage to the table. Her tone shifts to teasing, careless, and the swine who answered burns a deep red. “Shots are always more fun.”

My hands clench the edge of the table and crush the flimsy wood beneath them. She wants to provoke me, get my attention, and awaken the beast she saw last night. If I was a weaker man, I’d be ashamed to admit it’s working. I can feel the monster gnawing at my insides, clawing his way to the surface.

Ready to be set free.

“S-shots, you say?” The swine speaks with false bravado betrayed by quivering lips. His beady eyes are glued to Josie’s chest, and his slack jaw isn’t helping his nervous tone.

“No good party starts without ‘em,” she says. Her attention never breaks from me. Her tone is teasing to the group, but she has no interest in them. Not that they care. All they want to do is stare at my woman’s body. The tight shirt hugging her perfect tits. The thin shorts squeezing her ass.

And if wandering eyes happened to move upward, they’d even see perfect white teeth sinking lustfully into her painted lower lip.

“That’s enough.” My voice tears through the noisy barroom. It catches the attention of the tables nearest to me, but they turn back to their conversations quickly enough.

The smirk on Josie’s face tells me what I already know. She wants this. She wants me to lose control and throw myself into her like a hurricane.

“What’s enough?” Josie plays coy.

“You’re walking on a tightrope, little lamb, and wolves are circling below.”

“These three?” Josie sets a hand on the table and presses her weight into it. So close to them now, the blubbering idiot can breathe in her scent.

“Nah, they’re sweethearts. Wouldn’t hurt a fly,” she taunts.

“I’m not talking about them.”

In a flash, I’m upon her. I have no time for these games of deception. Lulling these poor fools into my rage isn’t going to end well for anyone. I’ll stop it dead here and now. Josie wants my attention, so I’ll give it to her while drinking in the sweet musk of her perfume mixed with the scent of a night’s sweat.

An odd mix of tantalizing desire…

Fuck, keep your head.

“Can I help you?” Josie’s voice is meek and humbled. Her eyes stare up at me through a nervous, hooded gaze. They twinkle like two diamonds with how the overhead lights strike them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” My voice is hoarse, as if I engaged in an hour-long shouting match before I got in front of her.

“Whatever do you mean?” False confidence coats her words.

The whole bar has their attention on us now. The table to my side is dead silent, though I can see one wants to talk up to defend Josie’s honor.

Do it, little man. I dare you.

“Josie, you doing alright?” the barman, Oscar, asks, crossing the thick slabs of his forearms over one another. His commanding voice cuts through the noise of the bar, and it falls silent in his wake.

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