Read Online The Hitman's Dancer: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Snake Eyes Book 2) by Tabatha Kiss - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tabatha Kiss
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I’m entitled to you?”
“Why wouldn’t you be?” she asks in return. “I’m curious — exactly how much money did you shell out to spend last night with me?”
I bite my lip, holding back my grin. “A lot.”
“Was it worth it?”
“Yes.”
“Every penny?”
“I’d pay it all again, Lucy. And more.”
“You’re psychotic.”
“You’re perfection.”
She heaves a frustrated sigh. “And I can’t be bought.”
“You wouldn’t be worth it if you could be.” I smile, seeing the tug of her own mouth betraying her. “Lucy, I did not bring you here tonight to show you off as my trophy nor to boss you around as my slave. I certainly didn’t bring you here to impress you or offend you. I asked you to accompany me tonight because I had to be here and I couldn’t stomach it alone. I wanted you here with me to make my night a little easier.”
Her green eyes twinkle in the candle’s flame, growing softer with every word I say.
I keep talking, luring her in. “You’re light on the eyes, fun to talk to… and speaking of decent fucks —”
She laughs but quickly covers her mouth with one hand.
I take hold of my glass again. “Now, Ms. Vaughn, can we please cut the bullshit and enjoy our evening together?”
Lucy narrows her gaze, knowing she’s completely trapped but she likes it. “Fine...” She reaches for her drink. “But I’m not dancing for you again.”
“I wouldn’t dream of asking.”
“Thank you.”
We take a sip of wine while we eye each other across the table. I detect the desire building within her green irises, that same fiery spirit I saw just before she let herself touch me last night. She knows as well as I do she’ll end up in my bed again and it doesn’t frighten her at all. In fact, she wants it. Perhaps even more than I do.
I lick my lips, my senses erupting at the mere thought of tasting her fine pussy again. It takes every bit of my control not to bend her over this fucking table and take a bite of that perfect ass right here and now.
Laughter carries over the tepid room, once again booming from Enzo’s powerful Italian lungs. Lucy twists around to see him standing in front of a large table at the far corner, this one sitting up on a platform by the windows near the entrance. There’s another uproar of laughter as the men around the table join his fun. I pause, sensing the questions on Lucy’s lips while her eyes linger on them.
“Who’s that?” she asks me as she turns back.
I clear my throat, glancing over her shoulder again. “The young man is Marty Zappia.”
“And the old guy?” She already knows. I can see it in her steady eyes.
“That is Antony Zappia, his father.”
“ The Mr. Zappia?” she mutters.
“Yes.” The asshole that sent me to kill her father. “Lucy, let’s—”
“I want to meet him.”
I blink, shaking my head at the sudden request. “That’s not the kind of table you walk up and introduce yourself to—” She tosses her napkin off her lap and quickly stands up. “Lucy—”
She dodges my reach and slips away from the table with fast, precise feet. I growl softly in frustration as I struggle to catch up to her before she steps up onto the platform. Her sudden presence draws the eyes of the entire table and Zappia’s guards reach for their concealed weapons.
“Good evening, Mr. Zappia,” Lucy announces, smiling politely. She extends her hand towards his confused, old face. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you—”
I snatch her hand from the air and draw her away from the table, gesturing to his bodyguards that I have the situation under control. “My deepest apologies, Mr. Zappia,” I say quickly with a forced, well-meaning chuckle. I keep a tight grip on her as she tries to tug away. “My date has had a touch too much wine, I think.”
“Hart…” he mutters. His eyes stay locked on Lucy, twisting between annoyance and growing curiosity. “That’s quite all right. I’m sure we all will by
“Why wouldn’t you be?” she asks in return. “I’m curious — exactly how much money did you shell out to spend last night with me?”
I bite my lip, holding back my grin. “A lot.”
“Was it worth it?”
“Yes.”
“Every penny?”
“I’d pay it all again, Lucy. And more.”
“You’re psychotic.”
“You’re perfection.”
She heaves a frustrated sigh. “And I can’t be bought.”
“You wouldn’t be worth it if you could be.” I smile, seeing the tug of her own mouth betraying her. “Lucy, I did not bring you here tonight to show you off as my trophy nor to boss you around as my slave. I certainly didn’t bring you here to impress you or offend you. I asked you to accompany me tonight because I had to be here and I couldn’t stomach it alone. I wanted you here with me to make my night a little easier.”
Her green eyes twinkle in the candle’s flame, growing softer with every word I say.
I keep talking, luring her in. “You’re light on the eyes, fun to talk to… and speaking of decent fucks —”
She laughs but quickly covers her mouth with one hand.
I take hold of my glass again. “Now, Ms. Vaughn, can we please cut the bullshit and enjoy our evening together?”
Lucy narrows her gaze, knowing she’s completely trapped but she likes it. “Fine...” She reaches for her drink. “But I’m not dancing for you again.”
“I wouldn’t dream of asking.”
“Thank you.”
We take a sip of wine while we eye each other across the table. I detect the desire building within her green irises, that same fiery spirit I saw just before she let herself touch me last night. She knows as well as I do she’ll end up in my bed again and it doesn’t frighten her at all. In fact, she wants it. Perhaps even more than I do.
I lick my lips, my senses erupting at the mere thought of tasting her fine pussy again. It takes every bit of my control not to bend her over this fucking table and take a bite of that perfect ass right here and now.
Laughter carries over the tepid room, once again booming from Enzo’s powerful Italian lungs. Lucy twists around to see him standing in front of a large table at the far corner, this one sitting up on a platform by the windows near the entrance. There’s another uproar of laughter as the men around the table join his fun. I pause, sensing the questions on Lucy’s lips while her eyes linger on them.
“Who’s that?” she asks me as she turns back.
I clear my throat, glancing over her shoulder again. “The young man is Marty Zappia.”
“And the old guy?” She already knows. I can see it in her steady eyes.
“That is Antony Zappia, his father.”
“ The Mr. Zappia?” she mutters.
“Yes.” The asshole that sent me to kill her father. “Lucy, let’s—”
“I want to meet him.”
I blink, shaking my head at the sudden request. “That’s not the kind of table you walk up and introduce yourself to—” She tosses her napkin off her lap and quickly stands up. “Lucy—”
She dodges my reach and slips away from the table with fast, precise feet. I growl softly in frustration as I struggle to catch up to her before she steps up onto the platform. Her sudden presence draws the eyes of the entire table and Zappia’s guards reach for their concealed weapons.
“Good evening, Mr. Zappia,” Lucy announces, smiling politely. She extends her hand towards his confused, old face. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you—”
I snatch her hand from the air and draw her away from the table, gesturing to his bodyguards that I have the situation under control. “My deepest apologies, Mr. Zappia,” I say quickly with a forced, well-meaning chuckle. I keep a tight grip on her as she tries to tug away. “My date has had a touch too much wine, I think.”
“Hart…” he mutters. His eyes stay locked on Lucy, twisting between annoyance and growing curiosity. “That’s quite all right. I’m sure we all will by
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