Page 31 of Cassio (Belles & Mobsters 3)

“Why can’t we take the stairs?” I objected, all Chippendale men forgotten.

“We don’t want to walk more than we have to in these heels.” Her reply made sense, but I avoided elevators with a desperation. I didn’t know what drove my claustrophobia in fucking elevators, but it wasn’t a pleasant experience. “This nightclub is different from last night and we’ll have to walk a bit to get there.”

“We can do it,” I tried to justify. “We could take our shoes off and just walk the stairs barefoot.”

For Pete’s sake, we trained and kicked ass. We could certainly survive the stairs.

“Are you nuts? If you want to burn energy, we’ll dance with those hotties tonight, and we’ll get laid. If we are climbing and descending twenty flights of stairs, I’ll be worn out. So will you.”

There she went with getting laid again.

This time I groaned out loud. “Margaret, come on. Let’s take the stairs.”

She threw me a side glance. “What is it with you and the elevators?”

“Nothing,” I muttered defensively under my breath. How could I explain something I didn’t understand myself? As far as I knew, I didn’t have a problem with claustrophobia. It never happened anywhere else, and this phobia of elevators started specifically in my teens. No clue what started it. Just came out of nowhere.

I guess compromise was in order. She endured dragging our suitcases up the stairs with me, not wanting to leave me to do it alone. We could have had the hotel porter bring them up into our rooms but our weapons were in them. I couldn’t afford to have the suitcases displaced. It wasn’t like we could walk into any store and pick up a gun on a whim.

“Fine, elevator it is,” I retorted in a resigned voice.

Even as I said those words, my heart started racing. Damn it, sometimes I felt broken. Just fucking broken, and I had no idea why. I started my breathing technique the therapist taught me.

Take a deep breath in. Exhale. Take a deep breath in. Exhale. Take a deep breath in. Exhale.

I was so focused on it, I didn’t realize we were already by the elevator. Margaret pushed the button as we stood waiting.

Take a deep breath in. Exhale. Take a deep breath in. Exhale.

“Are you doing your thing again?” Margaret’s voice startled me.

“Doing what thing?” I never told her about my claustrophobia in the elevators.

“Your breathing thing,” she retorted. “You did it yesterday too, right after you puked your guts out.” Yeah, yesterday was not good. I should have been helping to evacuate women before we bombed the place down. Instead, I puked my guts out. “Sometimes I wonder what the fuck happened to you.”

I laughed, although the laugh sounded strangled to my own ears.

“You and me both,” I muttered under my breath.

“Ladies,” a man’s voice sounded behind me, and I just about jumped out of my skin.

“What the fuck?” I squealed, whipping around to see who was behind us. A gasp left my lips the moment our gazes met and familiarity washed over me.

ChapterTen

ÁINE

Holy shit!Was I delirious? Maybe I was running a fever and didn’t realize it.

My mysterious stranger. My orgasm man was here.Right here!I could lean over and touch him. Goddamn it, he was gorgeous. He looked even better than two years ago. The club that night was so dim, but holy Hades. My panties just melted.

My breath sucked into my lungs on a deep inhale and my breathing exercise went out the window. He was mere feet away from me, but I felt him as if his body was flushed with mine. Fuck, arousal hit me like a tsunami. If I could, I’d push him into a dark corner and jump him, begging him to make me feel all those things I felt two years ago when he had taken me into his office.

The ink on his neck was intriguing and threw off vibes that screamed dangerous.

And lickable.

So damn lickable. I swallowed hard, my heart thundering in my chest.

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