Pausing in the doorway, Nico watched the short video clip of Mia on the screen. Madonna. Why the fuck did she have to dress like that? Every damn male in the bar was watching her dance in those lace-up boots, that tiny dress, and those sexy socks that just begged a man to follow them under her skirt just to see how far they would go.
He watched her dance on the stage beside the bar, her body undulating to the music. She was more titillating than the scantily clad go-go girls dancing up a storm on the counter beside her. Was it the corset part of her dress that pushed her breasts up obscenely high and emphasized the narrowness of her waist and the swell of her hips? Or was it those fucking socks that bared a flash of creamy thigh? Or was it the strength of character the outfit conveyed—that she knew what she liked and gave fuck all what anyone thought.
She looked up, straight at the camera. Danced in a circle giving him the full picture of what he was missing, flipped her frilly skirt just enough to show the curve of her cheek. She had to know he was watching. She had to know what would happen when she gave him a glimpse of something he shouldn’t see.
Something he wanted.
Something he would have. Tonight.
*
“I like your socks.”
Mia smiled at the pleasant-looking man in the polo shirt and chinos dancing in front of her. “Thank you.”
“I like your skirt, too.” He moved awkwardly to the music, like a dad who had forgotten his rhythm, although he didn’t look older than twenty-five.
“Thank you.”
“I’m Richard,” he said stiffly. “Is it okay if I dance with you?” He did a zombie jerk of his arms, and Mia bit back a laugh.
“Yes.”
After four rounds of vodka shooters, two games of craps, a Mai Tai, and some decidedly bad luck on the Big Six wheel, Mia was ready for some action. If it happened to come in a preppy package with a blue collared shirt sporting a little pony on the chest, then she’d take what she could get; she’d given up on Nico showing his face several hours ago.
“I like your boots, too. I don’t meet a lot of girls who dress like you.” He made a not-too-subtle adjustment of his chinos, and Mia looked the other way as the beat slowed. She wondered what he would think if she told him he was dancing with a mobster’s daughter who spent her days hacking computers.
He moved closer and put his arms around her, still trying to find the beat. She leaned her cheek against his crisp, cotton shirt. He smelled cool and fresh, faintly of soap and aftershave. He was nice. A gentleman. He had tassels on his shoes, and his shirt was well ironed. This was the kind of man she should go out with if she didn’t have to worry that he would get shot in the head by a father who only cared about her for her value as a prize cow. Not a dark, dangerously seductive mobster with a fierce scowl, who overwhelmed her so quickly she lost her inhibitions and let him finger fuck her until she climaxed in the hallway outside her office.
Her skin prickled with heat. Was Nico watching? Resisting the urge to look around, she leaned closer to Richard. If Nico couldn’t be bothered to leave his office, then she’d give him something to watch. There was something between her and Nico, some kind of chemistry she didn’t understand. Although she was scared to open herself up to such a dominant, powerful man, to show the vulnerability she had hidden for so long, she was determined to explore their curious connection. And if he didn’t show, she was pretty sure tall, blond, and tasseled would be happy to take Nico’s place in her bed tonight.
Richard’s hand slid down to her ass, and her hopes shot up that this night might not end as badly as she thought it would.
“Is that okay?”
Mia was momentarily lost for words. She’d never been asked by a man if it was okay to squeeze her ass in public. But if that didn’t draw Nico out, nothing would. “Squeeze away.”
He laughed and held her tighter, rocking her from side to side until she thought she might get seasick. She looked for a stationary object to focus on to make the nausea go away and found a glowering mob boss instead.
Nico.
A giddy thrill swept over her. She hadn’t felt anything like it since high school when the senior she’d been crushing on showed up at her soccer game just to watch her play
But, unlike the senior who had asked her out after the game, Nico wasn’t smiling.
He took his time perusing her body, his scrutiny thorough and avid, his heated gaze lingering on the bare expanse of skin between the top of her socks and the bottom of her dress.
Damn. Nico was by far the most breathtaking man in the bar, the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He was impeccably dressed, as usual, in a perfectly fitted dark suit and blue silk tie, but his dark hair was slightly ruffled, just begging to be smoothed down. That tiny imperfection hinted at the wildness that rippled beneath the surface, the predator that watched her with hungry eyes.