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“It entails a private bar, couches, and whatever else you want to do. Talk, dance, and maybe let me taste those lips of yours that are calling to me, begging to be tasted.”
Oh, sweet Jesus.
“And if not,” he continues, “then I’ll just wonder for the rest of my life if I missed out on the best kiss of my fucking life.”
Oh, God.
“Okay,” I agree without hesitation, and he kisses the same spot below my ear again before pulling away and getting his brother’s attention. He nods upstairs, and his brother’s eyes flit to mine. He flashes me a grin and then bends down to say something in Cassie’s ear. She’s quick to nod, but looks to me to make sure I’m okay with it, and I give her a reassuring nod.
My mystery man leads us through the crowd and I place my drink on the first table we pass, feeling the envious eyes of every woman around on me.
We walk back up the staircase, and at the top, there’s another thick, black curtain to the right like the one we entered through, this one so well hidden in the shadows, I thought it was just the wall.
Two men stand guard on the opposite side, and both nod at the men Cassie and I are with in acknowledgement as we pass by.
The VIP area is large, with a crescent shaped balcony that overlooks the DJ’s booth and the dance floor below. The lights are rigged up on the sides and along the top of the balcony awning shining out and down, so they don’t make their way inside the VIP lounge, but we can see everything below, and it’s too bright for anyone to see up here.
It's dimly lit, with a full bar in the back corner, and a variety of tables, chairs, and couches all around, with the area around the balcony railing free for dancing.
I’m guided over to the bar. “What are you having, bambina?”
“Oh, I’m not your baby,” I tell him, and he looks surprised I knew what he said right away.
“Cara mia.” He smiles, but I shake my head at that sentiment, too. My nonno always called my nonna cara mia.
“Fine, la mia piccola dea italiana che non sa quanto mi ha gettato sotto il suo incantesimo.”
“I don’t know what you just said,” I admit, blinking, dazed from how sexy he just sounded with fluent Italian spilling from his lips. Lips I want to taste so damn badly to see if the Italian tastes as sweet as it sounded.
“I didn’t think you would.” He smirks. “So, tell me what you were having.”
“Tequila on the rocks. Extra limes.”
His eyebrows raise, and I love that I surprised him. “You heard the lady,” he says to the bartender. “And I’ll have my usual.”
I look over at Cassie on one of the couches with Nico, and it looks like she’s about to crawl onto his lap and devour him whole.
“So, are you going to tell me your name?” I ask, distracting myself from how much I would love to devour this man, too.
“Vinny. Vin. Vincenzo if you want to call out my full name when the time comes.” He smirks with a wink, and my panties dampen at his confidence.
“Alright, Vinny. I don’t think that last one will happen, but I’m glad to know the option is there.”
His smile is instant and I’m blinded by how freaking good-looking he is. He could charm the panties off anyone, including myself if I’m not careful. And right now, I so don’t want to be careful.
Our drinks are placed in front of us and I take the break in tension to squeeze my limes into my tequila and take a sip, loving the cool burn of it as it goes down. It’s keeping me grounded.
“Are you going to tell me your name?” he asks.
I lift one shoulder in a small shrug. “I haven’t decided yet. I don’t just give my name out to every stranger I dance with.”
“That’s fair.” He nods. “But I think what we did down there was more than dancing. You don’t think I’ve earned it?”
“Not yet,” I tease, sipping my drink. I don’t know why, but I don’t want to give him my name just yet. I don’t want to make anything easy on him when it so easily could be, and probably has been most of his life with the way he looks.
“I’ll just have to try harder, then,” he says, and my stomach knots. I really want to know what him trying harder entails. “Where are you from?”
“Here.”
