I enter and scan the room and immediately breathe a sigh of relief when I see her talking to another waitress.
They both stop and Aria’s eyes widen when she spots me.
She’s only observed me in the dark, smoky atmosphere of the bar so far.
She’s seeing me properly for the first time and I like to think she likes what she sees.
Despite the shitty lighting, her cheeks flush and her back straightens a little. Her bare thighs twitch and I really hope her pussy’s creaming itself for its rightful owner because I sure as hell am going to stamp my cock all over it before the night is out.
The other girl says something but neither of us answers.
My goddess is as entranced by our first proper meeting as I am.
I catch the scent of cheap perfume and a tinny chuckle as our unwanted audience makes herself scarce.
Then we’re alone.
And Aria’s gaze turns cool.
My stomach clenches in what I realize is anxiety. Fuck’s that all about?
I stride closer and stifle a grin when her gaze darts all over me.
“You left the stage. I didn’t know where you went,” I say as I snag the chair closest to her, turn it backward and straddle it.
She shifts again, eyes dropping to the arms I’ve draped over the chair, and I see the pulse racing at her throat.
Up close, she looks much younger than I thought. And her skin…Sweet Madonna, her skin looks like the freshest, juiciest peach. Supple. Unmarred. Ready for plucking.
I’m going to leave marks on that skin and I’m not even sorry. Neither will she be. Because she’ll know who owns her. And she’ll wear it with fucking pride or I’ll die trying.
Calm the fuck down, stronzo.
I take a breath and catch her scent. Cheap soap. Apple-scented shampoo. But it might as well be Lalique, the way together they’re a glorious feast to my senses.
I want to crush her to me and inhale long and deep, then lick the scent off every enticing square inch of her body.
She clears her throat and I realize I’ve been staring at that pulse in her neck. The one I want to lick more than I want my next breath.
“It looked like you were busy. With Candy.”
It takes me a minute to work out that she means the waitress who tried to come on to me.As if.
The twitch of her plump lips tells me she’s not happy about it. Something kicks to life inside me. My angel is jealous about another woman giving me attention.
It thrills the hell out of my Latin blood because I want her as rabid about me as I am about her. I’ve already dealt with a couple of assholes who dared to stray too close to her.
“Not even a little bit, angel. You don’t need to worry about that. Ever.”
Her eyes grow wide at the endearment and I want to pin her to the wall and drive into her while crooning it over and over.
She fidgets some more, toying with the tab on the can of soda on the table. “W-why were you looking for me?”
Because you’re mine.
Because I can’t bear to take my eyes off you for one second.
Because it drives me fucking crazy to think of this place sullying you.