His Contracted Temptation; Velvet Lies

DANTE

The club is filled like any other Friday night, but my mind, as always, is somewhere else. That sucks big time since I came here to distract myself.

There's a full glass of gin and tonic before me. I swirl it lazily. Booze has always kept me afloat. After a kill, I take a glass or two. A deal gone wrong? Same. Today it doesn't touch the edge of my nerves. Maybe it's the feds snooping, or maybe it's my sworn rival, Nacho Belluci, who has pinned an assassination on me...

"What the hell, Romano? Don't tell me you've got your head still wrapped around that shit," Alejandro yells, his hands clamped on my shoulder. "We came for premium pussy, and we're getting it. You feel me?"

"Speak for yourself," I mutter, shrugging him off. My gaze sweeps the room-always scanning.

"We had a plan, bro. Blonde with Kim K curves, nice tits," Alejandro continues. I roll my eyes. "C'mon, bro. If you're going to jail, the least you can do is have a little fun," he snickers.

That shit he said is probably meant to rile me, but I'll pass. After having Alejandro as both consigliere and best friend for close to thirty years, you tend to tune out when he gets mouthy.

"Woah... check out that girl," Alejandro says, trying again, pulling me toward the center of the room.

My nose wrinkles at the smell of alcohol on his breath. "For fuck's sake, how many drinks have you had?" I groan, about to slip free when he tilts my head, and I notice her.

My breath hitches as the music dies down in my head. I take a step forward as my fingers wrap around the rails. Craning my neck, I take a gulp of my drink. Bellissima.

Honey-blonde curls bounce freely as her body moves sultrily to the music like sin itself. Her eyes are closed, lost in the rhythm like she's in her own world. Crimson lips part while she slowly trails her hands down her neck, across her chest, teasing the swell of her breasts before squeezing them lightly. The slow twist of her waist is effortless, magnetic. Her hands slide to her hips, tracing their curves with the type of captivating energy that leaves me speechless-left hand tangled in her messy curls.

Heads turn, and whispers follow her as she moves, every eye in the room locked on her.

Her short black dress fits perfectly like illusion body paint, every curve perfectly outlined like it was made for her alone. The curve of her back slopes into an arch, her hips sway deliberately, a rhythm that seems to bend into the air around her, long legs in full view as her dress rides up. The sight is enough to create a tent in my pants. Fuck.

And then-she opens her eyes. Beneath the sweep of her lashes, I catch flashes of mischief. Her gaze locks on me, unflinching, unashamed. Every movement from that moment feels like it's meant to draw me in, to pull me close without a word. I can't look away. Match found. Game on.

"I'll be right back." I pat a confused Alejandro on the shoulder and saunter away. The earlier I meet my Bellissima, the better.

I pause mid-step and notice I'm grinning. Kill me already-I don't even know her name, and yet here I am, acting like a damn fool. Acting goofy around a stranger? That's not me. But there's something about her, something magnetic that makes me want to throw caution to the wind.

I squint, trying to spot her before she leaves, but it's more hectic than I imagined-wriggling my way through the crowd of moving bodies and trying not to bump into them. It takes a while before I spot her. The bright light in the bar area glows against her olive skin. She holds a drink in one hand, the other a phone. Her curls block me from having a clear view of her profile. Regardless, she's gorgeous.

I slide into the barstool by her right and place an order with George, the bartender.

"Two of my usual-for the lady and me. Make hers exactly like mine."

She glances at me, one perfectly arched brow rising. A soft smirk tugs at the corner of her lips as she tilts her head. "You're assuming I like what you drink," she says, voice low like she's amused.

"I'll take my chances. So... what is it you're interested in?" I ask.

Light brown eyes flick to the bartender, then back to my lips. "At the moment, I'll say anything business-related," she murmurs, lips brushing the rim of her glass. Her gaze never leaves mine. I watch in fascination as her tongue glides over an olive; she sucks it in, and it disappears into her mouth in a single plop. Call me a dick, but I'm already imagining how those full lips would fit around my throbbing cock.

Jesus Christ.

"Direct, huh?" I chuckle. I came here to clear my head, not recruit-but hell, maybe fate just handed me the perfect candidate.

"When you're homeless, jobless, and broke, your only currency tends to be word of mouth," she chuckles dryly. "I'm Valeria, by the way. Val for short."

Shit. "Forgive my manners. I'm Dante Romano." Valeria nods but doesn't say anything. I study her for any hint of surprise and conclude she's either new in town or good at masking her emotions.

"You've got a beautiful name, Valeria," I say, testing it.

"I get that a lot." She shrugs, clearly used to compliments.

"So what if I told you I have a job for you?"

Her lips twitch, a shadow of a smile curling at the corner. "Depends," she says, eyes narrowing like she's weighing me up. "Is this job the kind where I walk out richer... or the kind that gets me in trouble?"

I lean back casually, letting the faint smirk tug at my own lips. "Why not both?"

She laughs softly. "Well, Dante, looks like you've officially earned my attention." Long lashes flutter slowly through a half-lidded gaze that's both alluring and mysterious. The way she says my name... like it's something forbidden. It lights a fire I hadn't realized existed. I suppress a groan when I feel my cock grow harder.

George places both drinks before me. I shift closer to hand hers; my thumb brushes over her soft skin, and our eyes lock. She doesn't pull away. In fact, her knee nudges mine under the bar, subtle yet deliberate. My breath catches as I fight the urge to grab her by the neck and slam my lips against hers.

"Do you always go around buying drinks for pretty ladies, Dante, or am I an exception?" Valeria inches closer. Her bare thighs, smooth and glowing, are warm against mine. I tuck a hand into my pocket and push my pants down-a desperate attempt to hide my now full erection.

"You're a curious one, Bellissima." The nickname rolls off my tongue before I can catch myself. Valeria furrows a brow, dissatisfied with my response. "Of course not. Are you always this trusting of strangers?" I ask, genuinely interested in her answer.

She doesn't strike me as naive, and I'd be damned if I let those eyes convince me otherwise. I come to the club often enough to know Valeria isn't a sex worker-probably not a gold digger either. She's what I like to refer to as the dangerous ones: confident, mysterious, and show stealers.

"Desperate times call for spontaneous actions. You, of all people, should know," she tosses her hair off her shoulder. Her gaze travels down my chest to my crotch, and her eyes light up with excitement. Brat.

"You always this bold, Valeria?" I murmur, mirroring her gesture. My eyes hover around her chest. When we talk about perfect tits, we're talking about Valeria's. Perky. Full. Begging to be touched. Two hardened peaks strain against her thin dress, and all I can think about is how they'll taste. Valeria's legs are pressed tight, color rising up her neck. The feeling is mutual, then.

"Only with exceptions," she teases, eyes glinting.

I lean forward, nudging her body closer to mine as I lower my lips to her neck. "And what do you do with exceptions? Show me."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," she whispers.

That's all the permission I need.

My hand slides to the back of her neck, the other gripping her waist as my lips crash against hers in a slow, heady kiss, savoring her taste. Valeria's tongue meets mine, tentative at first, then demanding, matching the heat I'm pouring into her. Her hands clutch my chest, pulling me closer, and I respond instinctively, one hand sliding down her soft ass, the other threading through her curls.

"How about we take this to my place?" I whisper against her ear. I take her soft moan as a sign of agreement.

This night is going to be a long one.