Leona rolled her eyes. “Mafia men are so possessive.”
“They are,” I agreed. Nino had never really showed jealousy, but he’d never had reason to.
We found our men with Savio and Adamo in the gaming room, having drinks.
“Fuck,” Savio exclaimed when he spotted us, setting down his glass. He was already dressed for the occasion. Form-fitting dark blue slacks and an even tighter white dress shirt that showed off his muscled body. He’d have more trouble fending off admirers than we would. “We’re screwed, Adamo. We can only lose this gig.”
The other men turned, and their reactions were a mix of slack-jawed surprise and disapproving scowl, Adamo and Savio the former, Remo, Nino and Fabiano the latter.
“What the hell it that thing you’re wearing?” Savio asked me.
“It’s a dress,” I said, flushing.
“I know what dresses look like and that’s not it. That’s the lovechild of a tanktop and a bandana,” Savio said.
Ignoring him, I gave Nino a hopeful smile and he came over and touched my waist before whispering in my ear. “Don’t get too drunk. I want to shove up that dress and bury my face between your legs tonight. I want you to think of my tongue in your pussy when you dance later—to imagine how hard you come when I lick you, and you will again, tonight, if you stay lucid enough.”
My cheeks heated and I had to suppress an embarrassed laugh. Nino pulled back, looking cool as a cucumber.
Savio let out a low whistle. “Your face goes well with the color of your dress.”
I considered throttling him with the strap of my purse.
“How the fuck are we supposed to stop men from slobbering all over them? That’s going to be a hell of a job.”
“If someone touches Kiara, you’ll give me a call, Savio.”
“Nino,” I said with a small giggle. “You won’t ruin Serafina’s hen party by killing anyone.”
Nino regarded me with that stoic calm that told me nothing I said would change his mind. “I’ll only capture them today. I’ll kill them tomorrow.”
“That sounds reasonable,” deadpanned Serafina with a roll of her eyes.
Leona was busy talking Fabiano out of whatever overprotective mode he was in. Only Remo looked surprisingly calm. He gave me a twisted grin and kissed Serafina fiercely. The look she gave him after would have made me blush further if I wasn’t already red-faced.
“You keep a close eye on them, got it?” Remo told his brothers after he’d pulled away from the kiss.
Savio sighed. “Let me guess, you’re going to send me to Kansas if I don’t, right?”
“If you’re lucky,” Remo said.
Nino lightly caressed my butt. “Remember what I told you.”
“The Cosmos is the best club in Vegas right now,” Savio said as he parked in the side alley.
Leona, Serafina and I sat on the backseat of the SUV while Adamo and Savio made up the front. “Have you ever been to a club, Adamo?” I asked curiously.
Adamo glanced back. “Sure. A few times.”
Savio nodded toward the front. “There are Mick and Diego.”
We all got out of the car and headed for the waiting men. Like Savio, they were dressed in form-fitting slacks and dress-shirts that accentuated their muscular bodies. Diego and Mick lost their composure for a moment seeing us.
“I’ll give you one more second to get a grip on your fucking dicks or I’ll kick your asses,” Savio called.
Diego and Mick tore their eyes away. Diego was the bulkier of the two, broad shouldered, wrestler-like, while Mick looked like a runner, tall, with more sinewy muscle. Savio clapped each hand briefly before he nodded toward us. “Leona, Fabiano’s girl, Serafina is Remo’s wife, and Kiara, Nino’s wife. I don’t think I’ll have to say more?”
Diego gave us a polite smile. His gaze had trouble not straying below our faces. Adamo came over to us. “Hey.”
He shook their hands then shoved his own back into the pockets of his black jeans and checked our surroundings. At the end of the alley, we saw part of the queue waiting to get inside.
“So how do we do this?” Diego asked, rolling up his sleeves.
“One on one?” Mick suggested, doing the same.
Savio narrowed his eyes in thought. His sleeves were already rolled up. Leona sent me a questioning look.
“Sleeves up, Adamo,” Savio said.
Adamo scoffed but did as he was asked. Diego and Mick’s gazes dropped to the burnt tattoo on his forearm and Adamo’s face darkened.
“Many people know this means they better stay away from us,” Savio explained, indicating his tattoo.
“Scare tactics,” Serafina said with a laugh.
“We’ll need them,” Savio muttered. “You girls probably want to dance on your own?”
I shrugged, not having given it much thought.
“We want to have fun together and not have you attached to our hips all night,” Serafina said.
“All right,” Savio said. “We’ll dance close to you, but if guys are too touchy each of you will have to dance with one of us so the assholes think you’re our girlfriends.”