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I shrug my shoulders and give him an uncertain look.

“And a Malibu and pineapple.”

“What’s that?” I haven’t heard of that drink before.

“It’s a girly drink and will be perfect for someone who looks like an ounce of liquor will knock her over.”

Narrowing my eyes, I whisper, “Are you making fun of me?”

“Quite possibly,” he says back in a much flirtier tone. What’s his angle? What’s he attempting to do by all of this? Is this really his way of apologizing? Hanging around Enzo has made me think everything over so much more than I should.

A drink is pushed in front of me a moment later. It looks like pineapple juice, and when I put the straw to my lips and suck, I realize it tastes mostly like it too. I wait for the awful burn to come. When it doesn’t, I all but sigh. It’s delicious, tangy, and reminds me of the beach.

“Good?” he questions, his own eyes roaming over the dance floor. The club isn’t overly huge, simply a two-story building with a long ass line outside. A line that we magically skipped.

“Very,” I mumble, taking the straw between my teeth for another sip, which turns into a gulp.

I watch Eli out of the corner of my eye as he slams back the beer the bartender sat in front of him. The pounding of the music drowns out all other thoughts, and for a moment, I slip into another form. Someone I didn’t even know.

Before I know it, my drink is empty, and my body sways to the fast beat of the music. All I can think of doing is getting up and grabbing someone to dance with.

I love this environment. The darkness, the smell of sweat, and the smoke in the air. It’s exhilarating, making me forget about my past until Eli brings him up again.

“What’s your real reason for coming with me?” Eli yells, though I can barely hear him.

“First, I wanted to get away from Enzo. He’s up my ass all the time and, it surprises me he let me run.” Pausing for a moment, I look at the empty glass in my hand. “Secondly, I needed out. I needed air, and I needed to see things differently. I’ve never even been to a club. I’ve had a gun aimed at my head three times already, but I’ve never been out dancing. What kind of bullshit is that?”

“That’s some real fucked up bullshit,” Eli agrees while waving over the bartender for another round.

My head is getting a little fuzzy, but I still want to keep going. One drink won’t be enough for all I’ve been dealing with.

“You know he loves you, right?” Eli asks, but it wasn’t much of a question. It was more all matter of fact like, the amusement leaving his voice as he takes the empty glass from my hand and replaces it with a full one. I turn to Eli, rewarding him with a smile. He’s earning huge brownie points from me.

“I know he loves me in his own way. But I don’t think he can love me the way I need him to.”

Eli looks uncomfortable with the subject, and I wonder why he brought it up at all.

I sip my second drink a little slower, but I never stop dancing.

“I feel so close to you right now, it’s a force field…” I sing the words totally off-key, and if it wasn’t for the volume of the music, everyone would be covering their ears.

The alcohol is settling into my veins, and slowly but surely, I find myself wandering out onto the dance floor.

Eli follows close behind, but he doesn’t dance with me. He just stands awkwardly beside me in the center of the dance floor. Enzo would kill him if he knew where he brought me. I shake the thought away.

People surround me in masses as our bodies move against one another’s. Nothing matters at this moment more than spreading my wings and being free.

For the first time in months, I’m not afraid, not ashamed—I’m just me. My hair sticks to my skin as my body becomes encased in a shell of sweat.

A few times, guys come up and try to dance with me, but Eli quickly makes them go away.

I don’t know how long I dance, I stopped counting songs. All I know is that I don’t want this to end.

Then I feel him. I don’t have to see him to know he is there. My heart tugs to him. My body yearns for him. I continue to move to the beat, wondering how he found me. Eli probably called him. Traitor.

“Piccolo.” His sweet voice sounds like a deep ocean, an ocean I want to jump into, immerse myself in. Why am I mad at him again?

“Lorenzo King.” I slur my words but only slightly. His hands find my hips, and he pulls me into him until his whole body is against mine. He moves with me. Our hearts beat as one, and when his thrusts become more, I feel his hard length press against my ass.


Tags: Cassandra Hallman, J.L. Beck King Crime Family Romance