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Excerpt of Nico by Sarah Castille
Wham. Nico had King by the throat and halfway over the bar before Mia had a chance to introduce him.
“Let him go.” Mia tugged on Nico’s wrist, dislodging his hand from the bartender’s throat.
“Sorry.” She reached across the bar to straighten King’s collar. “He doesn’t get out much.”
“Hey, no problem.” King held up his hands, palms forward in the universal sign of surrender. “Just being friendly, man. We got a hands off policy until five a.m. That’s when the clubs shut down and the strippers come in looking for some fun.”
“You.” Mia turned and poked Nico in the chest. “Take it down about one thousand notches. I know these people, and they know me. Nothing’s going to happen to me here.”
Nico grunted but didn’t look convinced. Mia ordered a couple of two-dollar drinks and found a small table near the back that wasn’t covered in empties.
“Don’t use the washroom unless you’re desperate,” Mia said, amused by how uptight her Mafia boss was in the pit of sin. Or maybe it was because he had left his bodyguards outside and he was alone for the first time in forever.
“I’ve got my piece.” He patted his jacket, and Mia laughed.
“Oh. It’s a gun. I wondered what that was when you were pressed up against me at the bar. I thought you wanted me.”
His eyes darkened and he reached over, dragged her chair toward him. “I wanted you back at the hotel. Now it’s a fucking need.”
Mia leaned over, kissed his neck. “Do you know what I need?”
He threaded his hand through her hair, pulled her closer. “What do you need, bella?”
“I need to dance.” She pushed away and wound her way through the tables to the tiny dance floor in front of the stage. How the hell could she make this work if she wanted to jump him every time they were together? She didn’t want to get emotionally involved in a fake marriage that tied her to the mob, especially when it was never meant to last. And yet, she was already emotionally involved. She could never have said ‘I do’ to a man she didn’t trust, a man she liked and cared deeply about. There was so much more to Nico than the cold, ruthless mob boss he let the world see. He was passionate, protective, deeply committed to his family, and so damn sexy she couldn’t keep her hands away.
Someone put the Clash on the jukebox and she danced with two biker chicks as punk rock videos played on the projection screen behind the stage. She glanced over at the table, but Nico was already behind her.
“You trying to fucking kill me?” He wrapped one arm around her waist, and pulled her against him, as if they were alone and not in the middle of a dance floor in a grungy dive bar.
“I was trying to dance.” Her nipples tightened as he ground his hips into her ass. “I see you want the X-rated version.”
He kissed his way down her neck, and nipped the sensitive skin on her shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine. “I could fuck you right here and no one would bat an eye.”
Mia turned to face him, wound her arms around his neck. “I knew you’d like it.”
“I like watching you.” He pulled her close and danced like his hips were unhinged, grinding against her until her clit throbbed and she was so wet for him, the thought of fucking him in the filthy bathroom held considerable appeal.
“Nico.” She moaned softly, and he thrust his thick thigh between her legs, rocking her against the rough fabric of his jeans.
“Can you come like this?” His voice was a low, sensual rasp in her ear, his hands firm on her hips, his body hot and hard in her arms.
“I don’t know, but I want to.”
He twisted her hair in his hand, yanked her head back, and kissed her fiercely. “How bad is the restroom?”
She slid her hand down, smoothed it over his T-shirt, tracing over his rock hard pecs, the ripples of his abs. Nico’s grip tightened and his voice dropped to a husky growl. “How much do you want me?”
“Worse.” She rubbed the palm of her hand along his rock hard erection. People danced around them, laughed, and joked. Their R-rated behavior was nothing in a bar where she’d witnessed X-rated shenanigans.
“Come.” He grabbed her hand, pulled her across the dance floor and through the maze of tables to the tiny, dark hall leading to the restrooms.
“Where are we going?”
His lips curved in a sensual smile. “To give you what you want.”
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