Dante: A Mafia Bad Boy Romance (Sinsations Book 2) (3 page)

“And yet you still had no problem letting him slide his dick into you.” I blinked rapidly, my eyes stinging with tears that wanted to fall. Damn it! This drama was behind me. Why was it being dragged into the present? She was saying something, some lame excuse. I cut her off. “What do you want, Linda?

I waited a few seconds. Nothing but silence from her end. I sighed. “Goodbye, Linda.”

“Wait,” she shouted in my ear. “I’m sorry. I know this is weird. But I thought you’d want to know.”

“Want to know what?”

“You work at that casino, right? Sinsations?”

Damn social media. And damn me for sharing too much. “Yes.”

“Pete got married.”

I rubbed my forehead, feeling a headache trying to break free. “And you thought I’d want to know this why?”

“Because he and Crystal – that’s his new wife’s name – are headed to Las Vegas right now for their honeymoon. They’re staying there, where you work.”

Fuck. My. Life.

“I know I should’ve called sooner,” Linda said. “I mean I’d want to know if something like this happened and I thought –”

I disconnected the call. Linda had just ruined my life. Again. There was nothing more to say. At least there was nothing more I wanted to hear.

“Bastardo idiota,” I muttered under my breath.
Idiot bastard
. Did he still follow me on social media? Did he know where I worked? Was the bastard doing this on purpose? Of course the answer to all three questions had to be yes. That was the passive-aggressive way Pete operated. He’d show up with his new wife and just happen to run into me. He’d make sure of it. He’d also make sure to show plenty of PDA, letting me know how much in love he was. And then the question would come. So how’s life with you, Olivia? Seeing anyone?

And that question would hurt because, no, I wasn’t seeing anyone. When I told the cheating bastard I was leaving, he said I’d never find anyone else if I left him… and the bastard was apparently right. It didn’t matter that I had been turning down any and all dates because I was trying to work up the courage to ask Dante out. What mattered was that I was single, while that pendejo wasn’t.
Asshole
.

Screw this. I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs. I needed a drink… or several.

I stepped out of the elevator onto the main casino floor, hoping I had taken care of everything. Damian was set-up in a suite, under a fake name, and I had shown him the various exits and places to lay low if things happened to go bad. Lucifer had grown up in a mafia family, and he had spent a few years overseas in the military. He knew shit could go sideways fast, and he had designed Sinsations with that in mind.

I looked around at the people enjoying themselves playing blackjack, poker, slot machines, and various other games of luck, chance, and skill. If things did go bad, there was no way to keep everyone safe. I just had to cross my fingers and hope things held together until Luc got back to sort the family shit out. I wasn’t Italian or family so they wouldn’t listen to me.

I glanced up towards Olivia’s desk as I approached the stairs, feeling a heavy weight settle on my shoulders when I realized she wasn’t there. I glanced at my watch and shook my head. Of course, she wasn’t there. Between getting Damian settled in and taking care of a few security tasks I preferred to handle myself, I had lost track of time, not realizing how late it was. Damn! Luc’s brother was a great kid but his timing sucked.

I glanced into Inferno, the casino’s bar, as I walked by the entrance, and stopped short, my breath catching in my throat, my blood turning to ice in my veins. Olivia was in there. And a man was with her. His hand was on her bare leg, right at the edge of her dress, and slowly sliding up. I started to turn away when I noticed her slide his hand off her leg. He immediately put it back. She shoved it off again, and again he put it back. I finally realized the expression on her face was one of worry. I cracked my knuckles as I entered the bar, the ice in my veins turning into fire. The guy wasn’t getting the hint but I had no problem helping him understand the message that was being sent.

Neither of them had noticed me yet. I walked up behind the man, putting my hand on his shoulder. “Hello, Olivia. Is this man bothering you?”

The man started to look over his shoulder at me. “Hey, buddy, watch the hands if…” His eyes met my chest, and then slowly rose up to my face. He swallowed heavily when his eyes met mine.

“Yes,” I said. “Excellent idea. Let’s watch the hands.” I stared at his hand, once again resting on Olivia’s knee. He removed it quickly, as Olivia’s skin had suddenly burned him.

“That’s Dante,” Olivia said, her voice slightly slurred. “He’ll kick your ass if you don’t leave me alone.”

The man swallowed again. “If you try anything, I’ll call for security.”

I smiled. “No need. I’m in charge of security.”

“Oh.”

“You can go now,” I told the man.

The man glanced at Olivia and my grip on his shoulder tightened. He winced and quickly nodded. I let go and he slid off the barstool, heading quickly towards the exit.

“You’re so awesome,” Olivia said, sipping her drink and flashing me a huge grin. A huge inebriated grin. “I hoped you would show up. That guy was a pendejo.”

I blinked, sure I had misheard her. “A what?”

“A pendejo.” She giggled. “It’s Spanish. It means asshole.”

I nodded. “Ah.” I glanced at her glass. “What are you drinking?”

“How do you say it in Russian?”

“What?” I was obviously too sober for this conversation.

She giggled again and I couldn’t help but smile at the sound. “Asshole,” she said. “How do you say it in Russian?”

“Mu’dak.”

“Yes,” she nodded, as if she had known all along. “That guy was a mu’dak.” Another giggle, and then she drained the rest of her drink, slamming the glass down on the bar. She looked at me, her eyes glazed and bloodshot. “Jack and Coke.”

“What?”

She pointed at the empty glass. “Jack Daniels and Coke. You asked what I was drinking.”

Yes, I was definitely too sober for this conversation. “How many have you had?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Two or three, and then Pendejo – I’m sorry, Mu’Dak – bought me one or two… or maybe three.” She shrugged again, and then patted the stool next to her. “Sit down. Have a drink with me.”

“Haven’t you had enough?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, Mom, I haven’t.”

I laughed. Couldn’t help it. I had worked with Olivia for years and had never seen her this way. She was quite the little firecracker when she let her guard down. I sat down next to her. She looked up at me, squinting. “You’re a tall fucker, you know that?”

I laughed again. Even sitting, I still towered over her. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

The bartender came over, picking up Olivia’s empty glass. “The usual, Dante?”

I nodded.

He glanced at Olivia. “And another drink for the lady?”

“No,” I said.

“Yes,” she said.

The bartender looked from her to me.

Olivia slapped her open palm down on the bar. “Don’t look at him. I’m the one paying for the drinks and I say I’ll have another.”

The bartender cut his eyes towards me. I nodded. He nodded back, a look of relief on his face.

“I liked our kiss earlier,” Olivia said, not a trace of shyness in her voice or expression.

“Really?”

She nodded.

I smiled. “I did, too.”

She reached over, putting her hand on my thigh. “Want to do it again?”

The bartender placed our drinks in front of us, shaking his head and grinning as he walked off.

Holy hell! What a question. Of course I wanted to feel her lips against mine again… but not when she was so drunk she probably wouldn’t remember it. I was trying to figure out a way to say no without actually saying no when her eyes widened.

“Are you okay?” I asked, growing concerned.

“That’s it,” she said, excitedly, her grip tightening on my thigh. I sucked in a sharp breath. If she moved her hand up just a little bit, she’d feel my hardening cock.

“What’s it,” I asked, trying – and failing – to ignore the way her touch made me feel.

“You can be my boyfriend.”

I picked up my scotch and downed half the glass in one gulp. Now I knew I had misheard her. “What?”

She nodded, that huge grin back on her face. “It worked for Luc. Why not us?”

I put my hand over hers. “Olivia, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She closed her eyes, took a couple of deep, slow breaths, and opened her eyes again. “Okay, sorry. I got excited. The cabron I was with before –”

“Cabron?”

“Motherfucker.”

“Ah.” I nodded.

“Anyway, the cabron I was with before got married, and they’re coming here for their honeymoon. They’ll be here either tonight or tomorrow morning… and I
cannot
be single when they arrive.”

“You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend.”

She nodded.

Everything within me screamed to say yes, but I didn’t want to pretend to be with her. I wanted Olivia to be mine for real. Simply pretending would be torture. I wouldn’t know where to draw the line, and it would kill me to have her pretend to be in love with me, knowing all the while that it was just an act. I shook my head slowly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The smile fell from her face in an instant, replaced by a pout and glazed eyes that threatened tears at any moment. “You don’t like the idea of spending time with me?” For the first time since encountering her at the bar, her voice was soft.

I placed my hand on her leg, ignoring the urge to pull it away when my skin tingled from simply touching her flesh. I looked into her eyes. “I love the idea of spending time with you –”

In the blink of an eye, before I could finish telling her why this was a bad idea, the smile had returned. “Great,” she said excitedly. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine, her tongue teasing my lips. She pulled back suddenly, just a little bit. “I love the way you kiss me,” she said softly.

Before I could respond, she laid her head on my shoulder and slumped against me. I grabbed her to keep her from sliding off the barstool. “Olivia?” I asked softly.

Her soft breathing in my ear was the only response I got.

I chuckled softly. The firecracker had finally reached her limit. I stood up and scooped her sleeping form up into my arms.

“Everything okay, Dante?” the bartender asked, sounding worried.

I nodded. “It’s fine. She just had a little too much to drink. I’ll take care of her.”

The bartender nodded but I barely noticed because I was looking at Olivia’s face pressed against my chest. There was no way I was putting her in a cab, and I wouldn’t even feel comfortable taking her home and leaving her there since she had passed out because there was nobody to check on her. I nodded to myself. There was only one thing to do. I headed towards the elevator, taking her to my suite.

I pulled the covers up over Olivia’s sleeping form, wanting so desperately to join her. I chuckled silently to myself. I had finally gotten Olivia in bed and all it had taken was bad news from her past and an unlimited supply of Jack and Coke.

I shook my head, looking at the peaceful expression on her face. No, it probably wouldn’t have taken even that much to get her between the sheets sooner. I had known for some time that she was interested. The problem was that I was interested, too. Interested in more than a casual roll in the hay. I had known it the first time I looked into her caramel brown eyes. I had known it the first time she smiled at me and I felt my pulse quicken. But she deserved so much more than a former mafia thug like me.

With considerable effort, I pulled my eyes from her angelic face and turned towards the door, reaching for the knob.

“Don’t go.”

It was faint. Barely above a whisper.

I turned and looked at her, her eyes staring intently at me. “You need your rest.”

She shook her head, sliding an arm out from under the blanket and motioning for me to come closer. “What I need is you, my big, strong, handsome Russian.

I walked back slowly to the bed, ignoring my better judgment. She tossed the covers down towards her feet. “Lay down with me.”

I took a deep breath. I could do this. I could offer her the comfort she needed without getting carried away. I slid into bed next to her, my cock growing hard as she pressed herself back against me. She raised up, letting me slide an arm beneath her neck, wrapping it around her protectively.

“This is nice,” she said softly, pressing her ass back against me, purring like a cat when she felt my hard shaft.

Unable to help myself, I leaned into her, pressing into her soft curvy asscheeks. A low groan escaped my throat as I tightened my grip on her, pulling her back against me. I rested my free hand on the curve of her hip, not sure if I was doing it to pull her closer or push her away. “You need your rest,” I said again, my voice lacking conviction.

She looked back over her shoulder, reaching back, running her hand through my hair, pulling me closer to her. “All I need is you,” she whispered breathily, inches away from my lips.

I should’ve pulled away. She was drunk. She didn’t know what she was doing. But I was only a man. A flawed man. A man pressed up against a beautiful woman, her body molding to mine as if she were made for me and me alone. With a last weak groan of resistance, my mouth claimed hers, my tongue sliding effortlessly into her mouth, tasting alcohol and soda. She moaned into my mouth, her fingers tightening in my hair, her hips thrusting back insistently against mine.

My hand slid from her hip down to her knee, down to the bottom of her skirt. I quickly pulled the material up over her hips, my hardness throbbing against her ass, soft moans escaping her as my fingers grazed her soft skin. “Yes,” she gasped, parting her thighs as my fingers skimmed across the wet satin covering her hot mound.

Growling impatiently in her ear, I tore the fabric from her body. She trembled from head to toe, her breathing quick and shallow. I ran my fingers up and down her slit, nipping her shoulder with my teeth. “Tell me what you want.”