Page 36 of Made to Sin

I didn’t meet his eyes but felt the weight of his gaze as he roamed my body. My nearly naked body. I shifted from one leg to the other, feeling an empty need growing between them as every second passed.

“What is it, Luciano?” I asked when the uncomfortableness became too consuming.

“What are you wearing?” He asked, anger detectable in histone as he looked back at my face.

I smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles I could have gotten. “Clothes? What else would I be wearing?”

“Your mamma didn’t teach you how to dress yourself?”

No, my mamma was dead, and my second one, Maria, loved to pretend I was her hooker doll. Both answers were too depressing to mention at a party.

I frowned, looking down at my silver-sequined minidress. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

His judgment made it sound like I was wearing something outrageous. Sure, it was short and didn’t cover much, but this was a club, not a church. What did he expect? An evening gown?

He shook his head in indignation, like he was forcing himself not to answer, and put his hand on my lower back to push me out of the hallway we were in. The contact burned through the thin material, but I greedily craved how it molded onto my body.

I didn’t shake him away.

People’s voices and music overcrowded the air when we stepped into the main club. I had to lean in toward his ear to be heard over the commotion. “Is my husband here?”

It was a bad, rash decision on my end, but I couldn’t find the will to pull away. My face involuntarily fell to rest on his, and my hands were jealous they couldn’t do the same. His clean-shaven jawwasas smooth as it appeared.

He tightened his grip on me, twisting the fabric slightly, but his face remained stoically disinterested. “No, he’s probably in the backseat of a car screwing some girl he found.”

I couldn’t tell if he was mocking my marriage or if he was being honest. Out of anger for both the situation and myself, I acted like I didn’t care.

“Well, at least it wouldn’t be a problem if I do it too.”

I let the insinuation run deep between us that I was going to find someone to participate in similar activities as he had suggestedmy husband was enjoying. In reality, Marco would kill anyone I do anything with, so there was no point.

However, Luciano wasn’t aware of that. My thinking was if I brushed over his mocking this time, he wouldn’t do it again. There was no point in teasing someone who didn’t react.

Somehow, my lack of reaction had brought out one in him. He let out a low growl, turning me to face him completely. “Are you purposefully being stupid?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. If my husband can have fun, why can’t I?”

“He’ll kill you if he finds out.”

I pensively tilted my head. “Sooner or later.”

Luciano gave up the front of caring for my well-being and pulled me closer. We were almost chest-to-chest, his body heat warmed my skin and the empty ache I had from earlier grew.

“Try it,” he gritted.

I had to strain my neck up to see his face. Intently staring back at me were fierce eyes, daring me to follow through with the statement and see what he would do in return.

Was he… jealous?

The possibility coiled in my stomach and sunk a hot need down my core. I wished I was a better person, a less petty person, but after remembering the rejection in my room, I wanted to make him jealous. I wanted to make him regret not touching me when he had the chance.

“Watch me,” I seductively whispered, grazing my teeth across his lower earlobe.

Another low growl escaped the back of his throat, and I relished being the one causing turmoil for once.

It was probably stupid and definitely irresponsible, but I was so sick of men deciding what I could and couldn’t do.

Mustering up whatever courage I had, I slipped out of his hold and disappeared into the crowd.

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