Chapter Two

"Because I'm not that kind of girl," she managed breathlessly, trembling where she sat even though she had his jacket around her shoulders.

His scent enveloped her-- cinnamon, mint, sandalwood, bergamot-- and she was almost mesmerized by it. Damn this nose of hers. Nothing turned her on more about a guy than the way he smelled. She suspected that even underneath the expensive cologne, he would smell clean and fresh all over.

On top of that, the man was as handsome as Satan. In the movies, the prince of darkness always disguised himself as a tall, smooth, gorgeous guy in a three-piece suit and spoke with a classy English accent. That described this guy to a T. 

When she ran his fingers through his short, dark hair, she could tell that if it were longer and had no product, it would be curly. For some reason, this little detail about him tugged on something deep inside her. Dangerous, this. She'd have to be careful.

She made the mistake of laying her hand against his cheek. When she saw the raw need in his blue-green eyes, it froze her in place. Did he look at all the women he desired like this, with a haze of pure lust, like he wanted to strip every bit of clothing from her body and lick her from head to toe without missing an inch? It took all of her restraint not to trap his face with her palms and mash her own mouth over his. She felt something similar for him and frankly, it scared her. She had never before experienced such intense, visceral sexual attraction within seconds of meeting someone.

"And what girl is that, my lovely?" he asked, turning his head so he could kiss the center of her palm.

She became dizzy from the lack of oxygen due to her breathlessness as she attempted to process all the events as they happened. She was afraid her reactions had been delayed because her brain seems to short-circuit every time his mouth touched her skin. She needed to get away from him. No, what she needed was the weight of this man on her, pinning her to the mattress. 

"I'm not a prostitute, Mr. Esposito," she declared, licking her dry lips. "I am just a dancer. I am not for sale."

"I wasn't looking to buy, my pet." He put his hand on her knee and stroked upward then back down again in a feather-light caress. Lowering his head, he began to kiss the tops of her glistening breasts, making her gasp and tighten her embrace of him. He nipped a bit of her flesh before he looked up again and said, "I want you to come to me and with me on your own without feeling pressure because of who you think I am. Are you afraid of me, Miss Chow?"

Her mouth formed the word "no," but as a matter of truth, he terrified her. Not because he was a big, bad gangster or anything. Hell, everyone in the business in LA knew that the Camorra owned the LA nightlife and had for almost twenty years. Rumor around town was Alfredo Esposito was stepping aside as Grande Capo and turning over the whole operation to his son.

This man, they said, was educated in Oxford and Cambridge and was as business savvy as he was lethal. He was to become the new face of Camorra and the CEO of the international corporation, Jupiter Holdings. He was sophisticated, clever, admired by people, and held an edge of mystery. He was Europe's "it" boy for all seasons. He was James Bond and bloody Prince Harry.

But that wasn't why Kiki feared him. What really scared her was the way her body was reacting to him. She had a tight leash on her love jones and wasn't some sex-starved ninny, although it had been almost... nine, ten years (?) since she was with someone. No, she just craved for this particular man and had badly wanted him from the very instant they touched.

She couldn't get her arms to unlock and release him from her embrace. Her legs had turned into rubber and she couldn't leave the coziness of his lap even if her life depended on it. Her bottom was barely protected by her thong bikini and she could feel his erection hot and hard even through his trousers. She was so tempted to grind against him just to see what he would do. Would he lose his mind and take her right here on the sofa? She shivered at the idea. The image that flashed her head was so hot it made her squirm.

She was keenly aware that he could smell her arousal since she was parked on his lap and he was nuzzling the spot between her breasts. He had earlier lowered her bandeau to get access to her flesh, but thankfully his suit jacket covered her upper body along with his head.

"You are so ready for me, my pet, aren't you?" he murmured against her throat as his hand swept up her inner thighs and touched the seat of her bikini. "So wet for me already. I can't wait to get inside you."

Kiki bit down on her lower lip as he continued to stroke her, getting her almost to the point of orgasm, then stopping and slowing down so she couldn't reach completion. Then he would stoke the flame and let it build again, before stopping to keep her from having an orgasm.

Kiki became delirious with need. "Oh please, help, please..." She didn't exactly know what she was asking for; she just wanted the agony to end. 

"Do you want me, my darling?" he demanded in an almost growl. His finger slipped past the elastic of the leg hole of her underwear and reached the needy core between her legs. He stroked the length of her clit before inserting his finger deep inside her. Just as the friction began to build once more, he stopped his ministrations. "Kiki."

Through the haze of her own lust, she watched as he put the finger he was using to play with her in his own mouth and suck off her moisture. "Oh, God." The erotic display was almost her undoing. 

Kiki clutched his head against her chest and held him tightly. She couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips and to her, it sounded unnaturally loud even among the noise of the club. Oh God, this man might be the end of her.

He pulled out his finger from her body only to push it back in ever so slowly. "Kiki, my dove, you are divinity personified. I shall have so much fun with your delectable body for the foreseeable future." With his free hand, he grabbed a fistful of her hair to ensure that he had her undivided attention. "You are mine now, Kiki. Say yes, you understand."

"Yes, I underst--" She was so very close to coming that she would have told him anything he wanted to hear. God, she was almost there... she was almost...

Suddenly, his hand was nowhere near her crotch and he was setting her down gently on the sofa. "Begging your pardon, kitten, but I must speak to one of my men regarding an urgent matter. Stay here, there's a good pet." He pressed a kiss on her forehead then went around the sofa toward the bar to convene with a tall, black-haired woman as well as two men who could probably double as linebackers for the Rams. He didn't even look back once to check on her.

Wait, what just happened?  The guy managed to make her loca within a few hot moments and then just brushed her off him like she was nothing more than dryer lint? Ugh, he could die in a fire, for all she cared. 

She had so many things to do tonight and really didn't have time to play games with a Mafia Romeo. Though still a little unstable on her feet, she managed to get up and stay up. She took off his suit jacket and dropped it on the sofa. Almost immediately, she missed the warmth it gave and the comfort of his scent enveloping her. 

She eased herself out from between the sofa and the heavy coffee table and headed for the velvet rope even though her thighs felt sticky and her bare ass was freezing. When a hand grabbed her elbow to stop her, she suppressed the instinct to punch now, ask questions later.

"Hey, where are you going?" the red-haired woman asked, studying her from head to toe.

Kiki gave her a nasty smirk and a little salute. "Tell the boss man this ain't my scene. Later, gator."

The woman laughed. "I like you. I got your back, girl." She nodded at the guards standing by the velvet rope. "Let her out, boys."

Kiki didn't really need the woman's help, but she appreciated it anyway. She gave the other woman a nod of thanks and peaced out. By the time she reached the dressing room, she was near tears and shaking like a leaf.

The other girls looked briefly at her, then returned to their own business of either removing their makeup for the evening or spackling it on before getting on the stage.

Only Yuki, a girl who danced on one of the side stages, went up to her with a concerned look on her face. "Hey, Kik. What happened? Why are you crying?"

Why was she crying? She wasn't the type to lollygag and waste her tears on something so trivial. "I'm fine, Yuki, thanks."

"I saw you join the owner of the club upstairs. Jennie said he is so gorgeous, her panties almost dropped to her ankles. Is that true?" her friend demanded, her voice switching to a gossipy tone. "The cocktail servers are practically beside themselves."

Kiki sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. This, she could deal with. Nevertheless, she hated being bogged down with crap like this. "Yeah, he's super hot, but kind of a dick. You know how most of those guys are."

Yuki nodded in commiseration. "Yeah... you know that guy who plays the hot doctor on that NBC show? He's, like, the main love interest and plays a super nice guy."

Kiki didn't have a lot of down-time for simple TV-watching but pretended to know what Yuki was talking about. It was so hard for her to find real friends and ever since her sister died, she'd been starved for female companionship. "Let me guess, the real world doesn't match his TV persona."

Yuki sneered. "Bingo. The guy was a total sleazeball with a 'Don't you know who I am' sense of entitlement. Worse yet, he was cheap. And April said his breath smelled like cat food."

Kiki couldn't help but laugh at the outrage in her friend's voice. "I'm sorry, Yuki. That's terrible. You're going to have to change TV crushes."

Yuki sighed heavily. "Ugh, starting over with someone new. It's a lot of work."

As she and Yuki talked, Kiki began to change into her street clothes. It was nice to be able to replace the silver thong bikini with plain old cotton briefs. The damn thing rode up like a motherfucker. She didn't wear anything too flashy when going to or going home from work because she didn't want to call attention to herself (she should really rethink the pink hair). After slipping into a pair of loose-fitting jeans, she pulled on a simple cotton short-sleeved tee. She was nigh ecstatic to exchange her boots for her old Chuck Taylor's. 

"All right, sista, I'm up, " Yuki said cheerfully. "Be careful while you're out there. Lots of assholes and crazies. Text me when you get home so I know you're safe."

Kiki was compelled to give her friend a hug. It was really nice that she genuinely cared. She had never had a chance to experience such close friendships with the way she lived her life. Her sister Noriko had been her best and only friend. "I will. Take care of yourself. Maybe you should start carrying those little Listerine breath strips in your bikini top."

Yuki laughed and headed out for her set. 

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