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He stepped closer to her, the blue dress shirt under his jacket reminding her how well it worked with his eyes. “How are you feeling, Vespa? The hotel isn’t far, if you want to text me.”
Her hands moved to his chest, as if to shove him, but the way they slid under his jacket added to the heat that was building fast in her body. She let them travel up, wrapping them around his neck and pressing her body into his. “Do I really need a text?” she asked against his lips before taking them.
Kissing Antonio was as good as she remembered. She probably tasted awful, like beer and smoke and whiskey, but there was something so tempting about the sweet, grape flavor of him, and the heat, and the stroking of his tongue. She wanted the hell out of him.
He pulled away despite her trying to keep his lips against hers. “I don’t fuck on bathroom floors.”
She grinned at him, leaning up and mouthing the tip of his nose before letting go. “So prissy. Fine, the hotel it is. I could use a shower anyway.” She froze when her dress caught her eye. Stomping over, she nabbed it and added it to the overflowing trash bin.
“That’s a shame,” Antonio murmured.
“Shut up,” she said.
He used the pocket of her sweats to pull her a step closer. “You kept the tags? I’ll pay for your new things on the way out.”
She scowled. “I buy my clothes.”
She wasn’t sure why his chuckle in response relaxed her.
Chapter 9
Antonio listened to the shower, wondering what the hell he thought he was doing there. Vespa had been drunk. Though she was acting more like herself, that led to dubious consent at best.
Besides, she’d had what appeared to be a panic attack. He still wanted to ask questions that she’d probably stubbornly not answer. Or the answers would make him want to hold her, which was not the type of relationship they were going for.
He’d already taken off his jacket and hung it on a chair since it had taken the brunt of the dirty bathroom floor. He resigned himself to the item in his jacket pocket not making an appearance tonight. At the time of the bartender’s call, he’d only been thinking about sex with her again.
He had informants everywhere, ones that wanted to help him out. He’d expected Vespa not to call him when she wanted sex, so he’d put a bug in the bartenders’ ears, and it had paid off. He’d never expected the one that called to tease him about who Vespa was drinking with.
Antonio knew he was the jealous type. When someone caught his eye, he wanted them all to himself… while it lasted. He could hold on to certain emotions for a long time, but sexual desire burned out fast for him. Maybe that’d be the case with Vespa after tonight, but he hoped not. He wanted to respond if she did manage to text him next time.
Vespa was a surprising overthinker for someone who tended to say every thought in her head. Or most all of them, since he still didn’t know the details behind her freakout over wearing a dress. He had his suspicions, though, and planned to dig into the name Cesare.
Her dress had clung to her in all the best ways, and his eyes had been drawn to her immediately when he’d stepped into the bar. She had gorgeous hair. He’d thought he was mainly attracted to her honesty, but her dark waves did it for him too.
Her hands had been all over Josh, though, and he hadn’t liked that. He also hadn’t liked how easily she seemed to laugh with the man. Even knowing Josh wasn’t as fluid in his sexuality as he was, Antonio had been jealous. Hearing her drop the Di Salvo name had added a layer of frustration to the mix.
He wasn’t really surprised. Vespa wasn’t one to keep secrets. He’d already resigned himself to the fact that he’d have to give up his favorite bar after their last encounter.
He’d also deal with it if details about his sexuality got out. The people that mattered wouldn’t care. He’d torture anyone who said something disparaging until they learned to keep their damn mouths shut. Keeping it a secret had never been his intention; it had just kind of happened.
Unlike Vespa, he enjoyed secrets. They were simply another form of currency.
The bathroom door clicked open, and his thoughts scattered. She was only wearing a shirt, not the sweats from before. It wasn’t the black one he’d chosen, but the random one she’d grabbed on the way out. The wolf’s face staring back at him should have made smiling easy, but the unrestrained jiggle beneath it didn’t bring amusement.
When Vespa leaned into the bathroom doorjamb like it was a stripper’s pole, and the shirt rose to flash her bare pussy, no, he wasn’t amused at all.
She was obviously still a little drunk. The way her hand moved slowly up her body to wrap around that messy bun only accented that.
And he wanted the fuck out of her. His erection pressed against the front of his slacks, growing even harder when her eyes dropped to it and didn’t move away.
“There’s water on top of the dresser. You should hydrate.” He swallowed as her eyes flicked toward it, then back to his straining cock. “Then we should talk.”
Vespa could apparently pout. The way her lip jutted out should have been adorable, but he was imagining those lips wrapped around his cock instead.
The shirt flashed her gorgeous ass cheeks as she sauntered to the water. “Yes to hydrating,” she said, screwing off the cap. “No to me talking.” She gestured with the open bottle. “You talk instead. Explain what Josh meant when he said you were the best to boss around.”
Antonio wasn’t embarrassed she knew. The idea of Vespa telling him what to do, possibly tying him up, was already one of his fantasies.
