Page 23 of Devious Kingpin
“Want to dance?” Dante offered and I shot him a look.
“What makes you think I’m into dancing?” I said. Every other time, we were ready to kill each other and here we were having a half-decent conversation.
“I’ve seen you dancing on more than one occasion, Juliette. Once even on top of a bar.”
My eyebrows shot up to my hairline. “Stalk much?”
“Come on,” he encouraged. “It’s better than sitting here and staring at our drinks. We must be the two most depressing people in this joint.”
I glanced around and back to the spot where Priest stood, but he was no longer there. “I was going to say, your brother takes the cake for the most depressed person, but he’s no longer here. So I guess you’re right.”
Dante grinned. “So…? Yes to dancing?”
He extended his hand gallantly.
“Fine,” I agreed, putting my hand into his. His fingers wrapped around it, the warmth instantaneous. “You’re being so damn nice.”
He chuckled. “I’m always nice to you.”
I blew raspberries. “You’re always agitating me,” I said in a semi-playful tone.
“That’s not my intent.” His scent prickled my senses and seeped into my system, getting me drunk. My eyes were leveled with his square jaw, stubble darkening it.
“What’s your intent?” I asked, tilting my head and putting some space between us. Contrary to everyone’s belief, I didn’t particularly care about being too close to men. Especially the ones that I considered to be a threat to my self-preservation. “Your ulterior motive. You must have one.”
Something flashed in his eyes, but it was gone before I could hone in on it.
“I don’t always have an ulterior motive,” he said, that smug smile curving his lips.
Our bodies moved together as if we had danced a million times before. We didn’t. It was actually our first dance. I scoffed softly thinking of it as that.
“What?” he challenged.
I shook my head. “It’s probably the first time that we haven’t been at each other’s throats,” I said.
“We are not at each other’s throats,” he replied. “You are at my throat.”
The song ended and I took a step away from him. Our eyes remained locked, his darkness tugging on me and threading invisible strings.
“I need a drink,” I muttered, turning on my heel.
When we returned to the bar, Priest was there waiting for us. He held both of our drinks, leaning against the bar counter casually and looking sharp. Ivy had the hots for him. Like, major hots. She pretended she didn’t, but it was plain as day. Ever since she had that moment with him in Philly and it ended in her experiencing her first orgasm—something I still needed more details about, come to think of it.
Dante tilted his head up, swallowing his drink in one swig. Almost as if he were nervous. The only reason it jumped out at me was because he was usually so calm and nonchalant about things.
I returned my attention to Priest who watched both of us with an unreadable expression. Maybe he felt odd being here alone too. Everyone had kind of made themselves scarce around us.
“Thank you for guarding our drinks,” I murmured. He didn’t answer. No surprise there. There was something about Priest that set you on edge. I couldn’t quite pinpoint what but it was definitely there. I brought my glass to my lips, then paused. “So what’s the deal with you and Ivy?” I questioned.
He raised one eyebrow. “Deal?” he said in an amused voice. “I didn’t realize we had a deal.”
I let out an annoyed breath. “Seriously, you men are such jerks,” I mumbled. I downed my drink, alcohol burning down my throat. Instantly, warmth followed. Placing my drink down on the bartop, I added, “You don’t see what’s in front of your nose.”
“Please elaborate,” Priest demanded, his blue eyes so damn different from Dante’s, zeroing in on me.
I blinked, the alcohol creating a haziness in my brain. He wanted me to elaborate. On what? Then I remembered. Ivy. I waved my hand, smiling.
“Girls’ secrets,” I replied, a soft giggle escaping me. My brows furrowed. Did I giggle? What for?
