Page 6 of Savage Mafia King

"Oh, Isabella, there you are!"

A bright voice greets her, and I glance around to see an impeccably dressed older woman with a Termina pin on her chest making her way toward us. She must be one of the previous heads of the sorority, a position that Isabella holds now.

But she falters as she gets closer. Her gaze flicks to me, and I offer her a smile, waiting for Isabella to step in and introduce us.

"Who's... who's your date?" she asks, keeping her voice as neutral as she can.

I can tell she's freaked by my presence.Good.Though I know it's just the teenage rebel who still lives inside of me, there's a part of me that sincerely enjoys knowing that I'm causing such a scene.

"This is Marcus," Isabella replies, and she plants her hand on my chest with an ease that surprises me. She seems more comfortable than I would have expected with my presence, not letting me throw her off her game.

"Marcus...?"

"Silva."

The woman takes in the shock of that name, glancing between the two of us. Her eyes widen slightly as it all sinks in, and I can feel Isabella's breathing starting to rush from her chest, the rise and fall of it pressing against me.

"Oh, well," she blurts out finally. "Great to meet you, Marcus. I'm just going to..." She doesn't even bother filling out the rest of what she's saying as she scurries away from us.

Isabella bites back a groan. "This isn't going well," she mutters.

"It's one person," I remind her. "You told me you could make anything work, didn't you?"

"Yes..."

"Then make it work."

I look down at her, and as she gazes back up at me, I can see that flash of fear in her eyes, the part of her that knows not to defy me, no matter how much she might want to in this moment. She inhales deeply and then nods.

"Let's dance," she suggests, and she pulls me toward the large dance floor.

The flagstone laid out beneath our feet is cold, but the music filling the air from the band playing next to one of the stained glass windows is warm enough to make me feel more comfortable.

She loops her arms around my shoulders, drawing in a little closer to me. I breathe in the scent of her. The perfume she's wearing is sweet, almost too sweet for her. I know her as this formidable force, and yet, the soft scent wafting from her neck is like vanilla and doughnuts fresh from the fryer. I wantto press my face into it and inhale it properly, lose myself to the smell of her, but I force myself to hold back. I slip my hands to her hips, finding a pace that we can both sway to as the music plays.

"Everyone is fucking staring at us," she murmurs as she glances around the room.

She's right. Everyone is looking like they can hardly believe this is happening, and I can't blame them. If you were to put together a list of the people least likely to spend even a fraction of a second with each other, I'm pretty sure the two of us would be at the top of it.

"If you want to sell this," I warn her, "then you better start now."

Her breath hitches in her throat. I can hear it. I'm close enough that I can make out the sound of her breathing, feel her chest stuttering as I speak to her. I don't mean it to sound like a threat, but there's no denying that it does. She holds me a little tighter, arching her back to draw herself closer to me, and I don't move my eyes from hers as the music slows to a sultry beat.

There are other people on the floor around us, but I can't pay attention to any of them. No, all I can do right now is stare back at her. I can smell her, practically taste her in the air. Can she feel it, too? Maybe there's more to this than I want to admit, more to our closeness than I'm willing to give words to. I don't want to pull back from her, though I know I shouldn't be making my desire so obvious.

No, that'sexactlywhat I should be doing right now. We're trying to sell this, right? And if we're going to pull this thing off,then we're going to need to convince everyone here that we're seriously attracted to each other.

I slide my hands to the small of her back, pulling her against me a little harder, and she lets out a slight gasp.

"Just let me take the lead."

My words seem to soothe her, and she slackens slightly in my grip, moving her head to my shoulder. My fingertips graze just along the top of her ass, and I can't help but notice how hot she looks in this dress. I've always thought of her as this uptight woman who would rather quit her role at the sorority than let anyone touch her like this, but her body moves with an almost practiced grace. She might have a reputation to uphold, but it's clear this is far from the first time she's allowed herself so close to a man.

As the music throbs through the air, I lower my lips to her ear. "See?" I murmur to her. "Not so bad, is it?"

She doesn't reply. She might want to shut me down and tell me that she still doesn't want to be doing this, but her body is telling an entirely different story. She can't deny this heat between us.

And more importantly, she doesn't want to.

---