Page 39 of Who Said Mobsters Were Scary?
I blink at them and stifle a chuckle, trying to maintain a serious expression. Are they serious? Both of them are such bad actors. I know exactly who Naomi Jones is. In fact, I know the names and faces of everyone living with Leo, including the impressive goth guy that joins us, pretending he’s looking for Naomi.
“We are clubbing. You know, having fun.” The woman’s dark and very sober eyes roam me like it’s her life’s mission to dissect every inch of me. “Is that a new friend? Don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Naomi.” She glances at Leo again, who’s tensed up a little as if he can’t decide whether he should act the way he normally does or maintain his bodyguard mode. Or maybe he’s trying not to laugh. “Nice to meet you. Wanna hang with us?”
Do I? Not really. But the hopeful puppy eyes Leo gives me when I raise an eyebrow at him just about undo me. I think I might be developing a habit of not being able to say No to him.
Folding my arms, I cast my gaze around, the smell of sweat and alcohol as intrusive as the blasting music. “Sure,” I say even if this is not exactly my type of venue.
But, well, Leo is here and I’m dying to know exactly how much he’s told his friends about me.
Chapter 19
It becomes immediately clearto me that Naomi Jones knows more than she should. I’m not surprised, considering she was at the shrine last night. The evaluating looks she keeps giving me as we sip cheap cocktails while the goth, Chris, tells us about his afternoon at a sushi-making workshop put me on alert.
She’s observing me. Searching for something. Her questions, which center around my business without her outright accusing me of being a mafia heir, suggest that, too.
“So, Leo’s gonna be your assistant,” she says, leaning forward and lacing her hands on the table. We’ve claimed a semi-private booth away from the dance floor so our eardrums don’t explode.
I smile. “Yes.”
“And he’s going to be assisting you with?” She squints, trailing her eyes across me. They pause where I have my hand resting on my thigh, then move on to Leo,who’s sitting stiffly next to me and bouncing his leg. It’s been going on for the past ten minutes and it’s driving me crazy.
Considering that this was obviously a setup by the two of them, why is he nervous?
Keeping my expression as friendly as I can so she doesn’t mistake my resting glare for an attempt to intimidate her, I bring the glass of whiskey to my mouth. It smells cheap and I can’t imagine it would taste any better, but I drink some anyway.
“He’s assisting me with… logistics and safekeeping. Some admin, too.”
Leo shifts in his seat, his leg bumping into mine. It makes the vibrations from the bouncing seep into me, and I just can’t take it anymore. I place the glass on the table and rest my hand on Leo’s thigh, squeezing firmly. He goes rigid and whips his head at me. I offer him a small smile and squeeze again. His eyes widen for a heartbeat, looking both confused and like he has something to tell me.
Naomi clears her throat, breaking the moment. She perches one eyebrow at Leo, a smirk blooming on her face, and follows the shape of her lips with her tongue seductively. Leo smiles back at her, nodding slightly.
I see red. My stomach flips upside down. Is sheflirtingwith him? And why is heflirting back? I had her checked and I’m pretty sure she’s semi-seriously hooking up with a girl from the arts college right now. She and Leo should be just friends, that’s what Aran’s report said. Besides, Leo isn’t even her type or gender preference.
He wasn’t yours either, but did that stop you?
Touché.
Still, even if I try to convince myself I’m overreacting, the way they are smiling at each other gets on my nerves. That smile should be aimed just at me.
Annoyance washes over me. I grit my teeth and try not to scowl at the woman, but as she bats her eyelashes at me and keeps smiling at Leo, I’m about to go off. I’ve got my eye on him. He is taken even if he doesn’t know it yet. Why is she butting in?
I move my hand further up Leo’s thigh and press possessively. He shudders, a little gasp escaping him. I absorb it, satisfaction flooding me as his friend purses her lips and observes us with narrowed eyes.
Yes, Naomi Jones. Back off. I’m the one that makes him shiver and tremble and gasp. Not you.
Her dejection doesn’t last, morphing into a wicked smile she aims directly at me. My hackles raise and my stomach knots.What’s her deal?
Leo’s hand drapes over mine, his thumb rubbing circles along my wrist. He’s not bouncing his leg anymore, the contact with me seemingly enough to calm whatever was eating at him. Good. I love that he feels comfortable with me.
I inhale deeply, cutting my attention to him as the urge to peek into his soul rises within me. I want him to know that I’ve got him, no matter what. He’s grinning when our gazes clash, his cheeks slightly flushed and his gorgeous ocean-blue eyes twinkling.
I blink at him, not able to help the frown. “What is it?”
“You’re pressing too hard,” he says, lowering his gaze to where our hands are.
I like the way they look together. The way his touch is careful. Gentle but firm. Grounding. I want to feel it all over my body.
Swallowing as butterflies invade my stomach, I loosen my grip and slide my hand up again. I angle it sideways, rubbing along his inner thigh, just inches away from his cock. His leg flexes and so do his fingers, digging into my hand. My head spins as desire floods me, jerking my dick to attention. I pull on my lip with my teeth, trying to distract myself, but it backfires as Leo’s eyes meet mine and he mirrors it.
