New York Times bestselling author Sarah Castille releases on December 6th!
Sneak Peek of Nico By Sarah Castille
“Hello, Mr. Mob Boss.”
Hunger like he’d never known before took over him at the sound of her voice—husky and throaty in a way that made him think about pushing her to places where they would both lose their self-control.
She tapped her foot, and his gaze dropped to her boots. Cristo! She rocked her sexy punk clothes like no other woman he’d met, and more than anything he wanted to get under her skin. He wanted to know what made her tick, what music she listened to, what she liked to eat, and whether her apartment was as offbeat as her clothes. He wanted to know what it was about her that made a powerful Toscani capo with an empire to run want to spend the evening in a pool hall waiting for her to appear.
“Mia.” Her name on his lips was a sensual treat. “You’re lucky I’m a patient man.”
She snorted a laugh. “You are not a patient man. A patient man would have waited to bump into me on the street or at a wedding or a funeral, of which I expect there will be many after people see you here with me. An impatient man lays siege until he gets what he wants.”
“Do I get what I want?” He leaned forward and licked his lips, his entire being focused on her. An entire SWAT team could have run into the building throwing grenades and shooting machine guns, and he would have been totally unable to drag his gaze away.
“Depends what it is.”
“How about you in my bed?” He wasn’t usually so direct with the women he was trying to seduce, but playing it safe wasn’t going to work with a strong woman like Mia. He had to prove himself worthy and he could only do that by taking risk. Although he tried to convince himself he had come to honor a debt, the reality was he couldn’t stay away.
“You’ve wasted one of your three wishes. Try again.”
Nico frowned. “I thought I was forgiven.”
“Because I accepted a ride from you, and you fixed my car? Because I gave you a little thank-you kiss? Gratitude for a kind deed doesn’t equal forgiveness. And forgiveness doesn’t equal sex.”
His assessing gaze drifted down her body, taking in the quick flutter of the pulse in her neck, the slight flush on her cheeks, and the bead of her nipples pressed against her thin tank top. He felt the impact of her desire deep in his groin. Fuck. Thirty seconds with her and he was perilously close to losing his self-control. Again.
“Are you done checking me out, Mr. Mob Boss?”
Cristo. Every word from her mouth went straight to his cock. Women didn’t talk to Nico with amused disdain. They didn’t accept his gifts and walk away. They didn’t make him wait three hours in a pool hall for the honor of their presence.
“You are a beautiful woman,” he said honestly. “You deserve a man who knows how to please a woman in bed.”
Her lips tipped at the corners, and she walked without hesitation between his parted legs sending all the wrong messages to the right part of his body. “And that would be you?”
Heat sizzled in the air between them, and she dropped her gaze but, not before he saw the truth in her eyes. Yes, she wanted him. But she was going to make him work damn hard for the privilege of finding out what she hid beneath those badass punk clothes.
Boldly, he smoothed his hand up her thigh to curve around her hip. Pulling her closer, he gestured her down, pressed his lips to her ear. “You are wet for me, bella. Hot. I hear your need in the quickness of your breath, see it the flush in your cheeks, your nipples tight and begging for my touch, and if I stroked you, gently rubbed my thumb over your clit, you would come for me, and you would scream my name.”
Her breath hitched, ever so softly, and then she pulled away. “Save the sweet words for the women who are awed by your mobster charm.”
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