Page 42 of Cassio (Belles & Mobsters 3)

I stood up, towering over her small frame. Her posture was relaxed, unlike the tension in her shoulders when Chad brushed against her accidentally. I didn’t want to appear threatening to her, but I refused to put distance between us. If she didn’t like it, she’d step back or push me away. Though to my delight, she didn’t seem to mind.

Her eyes slowly lifted until our gazes met.

“I went back,” she murmured softly. I raised my eyebrow in question, not understanding what she was talking about. “To the club,” she clarified, clearing her throat. “I went back several times,” she admitted.

I closed the small distance between us and bent my head so our lips were inches apart. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

So fucking sorry. Otherwise, I would have kept her. War or not.

ChapterThirteen

ÁINE

Icould see the sincerity in his eyes and hear it in his voice. Maybe I was a fool, but I believed him. And I wanted him. I was twenty-five years old, and he was the only man that made me crave physical closeness. A touch.

Our gazes locked, the entire room faded into the background. I couldn’t hear anything but the thunder of my own heart. My skin burned all over, the heat from his gaze flushed across my skin.

“Your drinks, sir.” The barista’s voice interrupted the moment. “And fresh pineapples.”

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

The woman’s eyes traveled over me and then back to Hunter, coming to her own conclusion. Then a wide grin hit her face and she gave me two thumbs up before she turned around, and left us to it. This time I actually rolled my eyes. It was hard to resist.Though it was nice to have her support, I mused.

I drowned my first drink, then reached for my new one, ignoring the tray of pineapples.

“So, you are familiar with the pineapple theory?” Hunter wasn’t letting go of the stupid pineapple discussion. I’d rather he took me to his room and see how far we could go before I broke down. Or maybe this man could make me forget the world and we’d go all the way.

“What theory?” I gave him a wary look as I tipped my drink onto my lips. He wouldn’t dare say it out loud. Right? I mean, it is just bad etiquette. Everyone knows that myth, though whether it is true or not… Well, how in the hell should I know!

“About the pineapple,” he added nonchalantly, still standing super close to me. He could melt me into a puddle with his heat. “It makes for a tasty pussy.”

I choked, almost spitting my drink out.So unflattering,Áine, I scolded myself silently. My cheeks singed, and I was sure they turned crimson. I could practically feel fire flush through every inch of my skin. There might even be steam coming off some parts.

He just smirked at me, knowingly, and I narrowed my eyes on him, though I couldn’t keep a straight face. My lips curved into a smile; because for some crazy reason, I found it to be such a turn-on.Me!

Not a hint of panic. Nothing! Nada. Just fluttering feelings and slight embarrassment.

I cleared my throat slightly uncomfortable at the questions swarming my mind. After all, I was born British. Americans were less embarrassed about these things than the British. Or maybe it was just me that was too uptight.

Whatever! I might as well find out as much as I could. “Does it work the other way too?” I asked curiously, while every inch of my skin warmed.

Surprise flashed in his eyes, then he threw his head back and laughed, the sound hearty and deep. His dark eyes danced with amusement, and I decided right there and then I liked seeing him laugh; though if I was to bet, I’d say he didn’t laugh a lot.

“Only one way to find out,” he said, traces of laughter still in his voice. The words were suggestive, but coming from him, it didn’t sound creepy or cheesy. I raised my eyebrow, doing an internal check for the upcoming panic. Nothing.

I shrugged, appearing nonchalant. It wasn’t like I would give him a hint that I was new at this. “I’m game,” I announced in a soft voice.

My heart raced with adrenaline. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I wasn’t a timid or shy person by any means. And I knew my worth. But I also knew I had issues that for some reason just refused to ease over the years. But with this man, Hunter, those issues didn’t seem to exist.

“Ladies first then.” He pointed to the tray of pineapples. I grabbed a forkful and put it into my mouth. I loved pineapple so it wasn’t a hardship at all. It was kind of silly, and I had to wonder which one of the two of us was crazier.

Both of us stood there with a tray full of pineapples on the bar in front of us, like we were starting some kind of pineapple competition.

“Your turn,” I told him. “Grab your own fork. I hate sharing silverware.”

His lips tugged upwards. “I’m making a note of that,” he remarked and followed suit, grabbing his own fork. My heart fluttered at his words, but I refused to put too much value into the meaning of them.

---