“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.”
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?”
“Yes.”
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.”
“Play nice,” he warned. “I brought you a present.” Nico reached under his chair and pulled out her boot. “I always keep my word.”
Mia’s smile transformed her face from suspiciously annoyed to delighted, in a heartbeat. “A booty call,” she murmured, reaching to take it. “How thoughtful.”
“Ah. Ah.” He held it out of reach. “Where’s my something extra?” No good mobster repaid another without adding a little extra, a premium to compensate the other for the inconvenience of doing the favor in the first place. If Luca had no cash for lunch and Nico gave him seventeen dollars to cover his meal, he would pay back twenty. It was loansharking, but with class, and it was the way their world worked.
She reached for her purse, hesitated, her gaze falling on the pool table. “Care to make it interesting?”
Wrong words to say to a gambling man. Or maybe they were the right ones because his evening plans to pick up the weekly nut from Lennie for the security work they were doing suddenly became a low priority.
“Everything about you is interesting,” he said. “What do you suggest?”
“A favor.” She licked her lips, lifted a perfect eyebrow. “Or can your massive ego handle losing to a girl?”
“I won’t lose.” Nico almost felt bad about the bet. After his father’s death, he had worked his way through his grief in the Vegas pool halls, playing until he was good enough to consider going pro. Not that he ever would ever leave the Mafia, however tempting a civilian career as a professional pool player might be.
She laughed, a low, sexy chuckle that he felt deep in his chest. “So arrogant.”
“You love it,” he teased. “You’ve never met a man like me, a man who can challenge and respect you, a man worthy of a woman like you.”