Claiming What's Mine

by Jennifer Sucevic

  Walking into Covet is like falling down the rabbit hole. It’s an over-the-top sensory overload extravaganza. People often pause and try to take in everything at once with wide eyes because there’s so much going on.

  The club is three stories tall. A massive dance floor that lights up occupies most of the main level. A long glass bar sits at the far end. Every kind of high-end liquor is displayed on thin crystal shelves. Matteo stocks most of the well-known brands along with rare ones, including thousand-dollar bottles of Absolut Crystal and twenty-five thousand-dollar bottles of Legacy by Angostura.

  On the second and third floors, balconies wrap around the perimeter of the dance space so patrons can watch the spectacle below. A DJ spins records in an elevated booth. Fog creeps across the ground and strobe lights with different colors bounce over the walls in the darkened club. Girls twist their bodies around poles on platforms strategically placed throughout the first story.

  All of the dancers and bartenders who work at Covet are female. Their bodies are spray-painted to look like they’re wearing matching swimsuits or lingerie. I’ve also seen them decorated with flowers blooming across their toned flesh. The end result is stunning. I give these women a lot of credit for walking around in nothing more than a coat of paint and a smile.

  “Mike told me this place was crazy,” Drew yells over the pumping beat of the music. “He was right.”

  Without a doubt, Covet is crazy. But it’s a cool, addictive kind of crazy. I can’t stop myself from giggling because I can tell Drew’s a little stunned by the wonderland surrounding him.

  “Do you want to grab a drink first or hit the dance floor?”

  I glance at the space packed with writhing bodies, surprised by the longing filling me. “Let’s dance for a bit, then we can get a drink.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He tows me through the crush of gyrating people until we carve out a small space for ourselves. I have no idea how long Drew and I dance. After a song or two, my mind shuts off, and I don’t think about anything other than the deep bass resonating throughout my bones and settling in the pit of my stomach. I lose myself in the music and people moving around us.

  Drew leans toward me. “Do you want to take a breather and grab something to drink?”

  Coming back into myself, I nod. A cold bottle of water sounds like heaven right now.

  Keeping my hand firmly ensconced in his, Drew navigates through the thick crowd toward the bar. In most places, it’s two or three people deep.

  I decide to freshen up to avoid being recognized. Since I helped interview most of the bartenders when the club first opened, there’s a good chance of that happening. Standing on tiptoe so he can hear me better, I say, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to the restroom.”

  He nods. “I’ll be here.” As I walk away, he asks, “What should I get for you?”

  “A bottle of water would be great,” I call back. “Thanks!”

  It takes a couple of minutes to reach the ladies’ room, and like I expected, there’s a long line. Instead of waiting, I head toward the staff restroom located through a pair of doors marked Employees Only in bold black letters.

  The music and noise fade right after the doors close behind me. This area is deserted. When it’s this crowded on a Saturday night, it’s difficult for anyone working the floor to get away for a break.

  My footsteps echo off the glazed concrete floor as I walk toward the bathroom tucked around the corner. Flipping the switch, light illuminates the chrome and glass space. Just as I close the door, masculine fingers wrap around the wood, catching it.

  I gasp, caught off guard by the unexpected intrusion. A scream gathers in my throat as the door is forced open and my eyes collide with dark ones.

  Chapter Nine

  “What are you doing?” I rasp.

  Roman slips inside the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

  The sound of the lock clicking into place is like a gunshot in the small room. My heart pounds in my chest. I want to run away, but I’m not sure if I can move my legs.

  “Why are you here?” he fires back.

  I jerk in response. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me,” he retorts in a gruffer tone. “Why are you here?”

  My shoulders straighten as anger roils through me. Who the hell does this man think he is? I don’t owe him any explanations. Roman Santori works for my father. Not the other way around. And he certainly isn’t my keeper.

  “I’m here with a,” I pause, debating if I should say friend or date. Screw it, I’m not going to hide what I’m doing. “Date.”

  He steps toward me, and I reflexively back away to keep the same amount of distance between us.

  I take a deep breath and force it out, trying to settle my jangled nerves. Being this close to Roman always sends my pulse skyrocketing. I need a distraction, or I’ll fall to pieces.

  Ignoring Roman, I turn to the mirror above the sink to inspect myself. My hair is a mess. I finger-comb it, struggling to steady my shaky fingers. As I finish smoothing the long strands into place, he comes up behind me and aligns our bodies. My muscles lock in response.

  Our gazes meet in the looking glass. Fury blazes in his eyes.

  Run!

  The desperate warning flashes through my brain like a bright neon sign. I have to get out of here. I need to get away from him before something catastrophic happens.

  He presses his hard body into mine, caging me between him and the sink. I gulp and try to angle myself as far from him as possible.

  “What do you want?” I ask, embarrassed by how my voice trembles as much as my body.

  “Who is he?” Roman rasps against the shell of my ear.

  A shiver zips down my spine as his gaze pierces mine in the silvery glass. Held captive, I’m powerless to look away. My insides pitch and roll from the intimate way he’s positioned against me.

  I want to lean back, close my eyes, and bask in the feel of his strong hands holding me against the unrelenting steel of his sculpted body. But I know Roman will crush my heart without a second thought if I give him any more of myself, so I snap, “That’s none of your business.”

  Placing a hand on each hipbone, he jerks me back until nothing separates us but a few thin layers of clothing. His thick erection juts into my backside. I bite my lip to stifle a groan as thick spurts of pleasure flood through me.

  My brain screams at me to fight and get out of his grasp, but the way his fingers possessively bite into my flesh feels way too good. If this were any other man, I would knee him in the balls while screaming my head off.

  But this isn’t any other man. It’s Roman. The man I’ve desired for years.

  Deep down, I know he isn’t forcing contact. If I wanted, truly wanted, to break free, I could. I could bolt straight from Roman into Drew’s waiting arms. As that bit of truth sinks in, everything swirling madly inside me deflates.

  Because therein lie the problem.

  When it comes down to it, I have no desire to escape.

  No matter how much I want to pretend that I’m moving on and my feelings have diminished, attraction continues to pump wildly through me. I’ve given it time to run its course and prayed for it to go away, but it never does. Instead of dissipating, it gains strength. I want Roman more than I did in the beginning.

  That realization makes me want to crumple into a small ball.

  I’m never going to get over him.

  “It feels very much like my business,” he whispers, dragging his lips over my ear.

  I shake my head. “Nothing I do is your business.” Angry for being toyed with, I turn in his arms and use all my strength to shove at his chest.

  In a lightning-quick movement, he spins me around until my spine aligns with his chest again. He pins me in place by resting a hand on my collarbone. His other hand plows into my hair and grabs a fistful of strands, pulling them taut until my head drags back and my chin tips up at the ceiling.

  My heart thumps
frantically as panic sets in. I look in his eyes in the mirror and ask, “Why are you doing this?”

  His lips meet my ear again. His warm breath spills onto the delicate flesh, filling me with warmth and weighing my eyelids as lust careens through me. “I wish I knew.”

  My belly spasms in response to the disgust filling his voice. “Then let me go,” I say, hoping he releases me for both of our sakes.

  “I can’t,” he grates out, running the tip of his nose along the column of my throat.

  I swallow hard while processing our strange intimacy. This rough treatment should repulse me, but it doesn’t. It has the opposite effect. I want to revel in his breath sweeping over my skin and the punishing grip he has on my hair. The way Roman takes what he wants turns me on. It fulfills a need buried deep inside me. One I’m afraid to inspect too closely.

  Breaking into my thoughts, he muses, “Do you know how long I’ve imagined wrapping your hair around my fist?” He emphasizes the softly spoken words with a slight tug.

  A whimper of pleasure slips free as electricity bolts through me.

  He swears under his breath. “Do you like that?”

  I press my lips together to stop any more sounds from escaping. Thoughts and feelings wage war in me for relishing his dominance and giving more of myself to a man who has done nothing but treat me contemptuously.

  He pulls my hair until my head is tipped further.

  I feel slight pressure on my scalp, but it isn’t painful. Lust shoots through me, exploding like a firework in my core and dampening my panties.

  “I’m not sure what to do about you, princess.” His teeth sink into my earlobe, sending another arrow of pleasure-pain flying through me.

  The hand pressed against my collarbone slides down to my chest. He traces my left breast and draws circles around the perimeter. Every rotation brings his fingers closer to my nipple. More sensation bursts in me when he grazes the stiff peak. With renewed energy, I squirm as he pulls and tweaks the hard bud.

  “Don’t fucking move a muscle,” he commands harshly, dropping his fingers to the middle of my blouse. One by one, he releases the ivory discs from their holes until the material parts to reveal a delicate pink bra.

  Roman inhales sharply. His fingers delve into the lacy cup and palm my breast before pushing the fabric down to free it. His gaze meets mine in the mirror. “Do you want my touch?”

  God, I wish I didn’t.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  His fingers dive into the other cup, sliding the lace down until air kisses both breasts. “Gorgeous,” he growls, playing with one nipple and moving to the other. “So fucking lush.”

  I moan and wiggle against the erection digging into my back. My tummy trembles as he trails his fingertips down the middle of my ribcage until they hover over the waistband of my skirt.

  “Have you let him touch you?”

  I purse my lips together. What I’ve done with Drew is none of Roman’s damn business.

  His fingers slip under the band and slide straight into my panties. A moan slips free as he cups my naked heat. My body is already dancing on the edge. It won’t take much to push me over. The sight of us in the mirror—him holding me with his hand wrapped in my hair, forcing my head back while my breasts spill out of my bra—is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.

  I want to burn the image into my brain.

  “Have you let him play with your pussy, princess?” He squeezes my slick heat possessively as if claiming something that belongs to him. Roman nips my ear. “Have you?” He squeezes me again and asks, “Do you let him play with this pussy? My pussy?”

  I blink, thinking I must be dreaming, but the sensual image shimmering in front of me doesn’t waver or dissolve.

  One thick finger sinks into me. I can’t stop the whimper of pleasure from leaving my lips. His grip on my hair tightens, his mouth settling along the curve of my jaw. His bared teeth sink into my skin.

  “No,” I say on a gasp. Because my physical need for him overwhelms my sensibilities, I wiggle against him seeking more contact.

  “Good girl.” He pushes in deeper and drags his blunt-tipped finger out. “I’m going to make you come, and when you do, it’s my name you’re going to be screaming. Do you understand?”

  Tears sting my eyes. Roman Santori is a drug pumping through my system. I may not want to be hooked, but I am.

  None of my fantasies were ever like this. The sheer dominance he exudes is breathtaking. How does Roman know that it’s exactly what I need?

  What I secretly long for?

  Staring at my reflection in the mirror is like looking at a stranger. A woman with hunger in her eyes gazes back at me, pleasure flickering across her face from the man sinking a finger into her body.

  I’m exposed and vulnerable, which is what Roman wants. Yet he gives nothing to me in return. He won’t let me breach the barrier he’s built around himself.

  I blink as reality crashes over me and struggle against his hold.

  He chuckles and tightens his grip on my hair to the point of pain.

  A frustrated sob leaves my throat. I clench around the thick digit still lodged in my body as it thrusts in and out of me.

  “Shhh,” he croons. “Doesn’t that feel good? Isn’t it exactly what you want? What you need?” He continues working me with soft, sure strokes that send arousal swirling through me. “You want this, don’t you?”

  I don’t know why he bothers to ask when he knows damn well that I want him.

  The finger inside me glides over my soaked flesh until it reaches my clit. In a matter of seconds, I writhe uncontrollably against his hand.

  “That’s it, baby,” Roman groans. “Come for me.” He continues strumming the tiny bundle of nerves until it pulses and throbs. A scream of pleasure builds inside me. “Open those pretty little eyes of yours, Sofia. I want them trained on me when you fall apart.”

  I do as he commands, knowing I’m about to dive headfirst off the precipice.

  His teeth sink into my neck as he pinches my clit. With my hips gyrating, I scream as sensation explodes and ricochets from head to toe. He plunges two fingers deep as my core convulses around them. I babble his name over and over.

  His velvety tongue soothes the area he’s bitten as he watches me come down from the high. He unseats himself, leaving emptiness in place of the fullness that filled me to the brim. As I watch in stunned silence, Roman brings his fingers to his mouth and sticks them inside. His eyes close for a beat and then reopen, hitting me with raw intensity. “So fucking good.” He brings the digits to my lips. “Open.”

  My lips immediately part, and his fingers slide into my mouth.

  “Suck them, princess.” His voice sounds gravelly.

  I obediently suck, faintly tasting myself on his flesh. My core dampens with renewed excitement. There’s something incredibly erotic about this experience.

  “When you return to your boyfriend, I want you to remember who made you come and how loud you screamed my name.” He releases my hair and pulls his fingers out of my mouth, leaving me bereft. With his eyes locked on mine, he flips the lock on the bathroom door and disappears into the hall.

  I gulp a lungful of oxygen as if I’m starving for air. Feeling off-kilter from the encounter, I stumble to the sink and grip the porcelain until my knuckles turn white. I gasp at my reflection in the mirror. I look like I’ve been fucked.

  With trembling hands, I tuck my breasts back into my bra and button my shirt. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to tame the wild-looking mass. As I give myself the once-over, I notice a faint bite mark on my neck.

  Need crashes over me like a tidal wave as I lightly run a finger over the indentation. How can I be aroused again when I just came?

  I splash cold water on my face, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. It takes another five minutes for me to pull myself together before I return to the bar where Drew waits amidst the chaos of jostling bodies, loud music, and flickering lights. From ben
eath lowered lashes, I search the immediate vicinity for Roman, but he’s nowhere to be found. My nerves twitch as I sense him watching me from somewhere in the club.

  “Here’s your water.” Drew hands me a bottle with a grin.

  “Thanks.” I twist off the cap and guzzle half the contents, but the cold liquid does nothing to douse the inferno raging inside me.

  Chapter Ten

  “I had a great time tonight.” Sincerity swims in Drew’s green eyes. “I’m glad we were finally able to do this.”

  I force a smile. “Me, too. It was fun.” Unfortunately, that’s exactly the way it feels. Forced. I can’t imagine getting together with him again. Nor can I imagine this relationship progressing any further. Not when I have such strong feelings for someone else. And not when I allowed one man to touch me when I was out with another.

  Oh my God, who does that?

  I’m not that kind of person.

  I’m not, damn it.

  I study Drew’s face, desperately wanting to feel a tenth of what I feel for Roman. But I just don’t.

  Until my run-in with Roman, I’d had a great time with Drew. I’d forgotten about Roman and the intense feelings he rouses in me for a few hours.

  I’m embarrassed for responding to him the way I did and humiliated for melting in his arms right after he touched me. I have no willpower when it comes to that man.

  I blink, and Drew’s handsome features blur in front of me before solidifying.

  Drew was a complete gentleman this evening. In the year and a half that we’ve worked together, he’s taken the time to get to know me and expressed interest even though I continually shut him down. I wish his efforts were enough. I wish I felt even a spark of attraction.

  By the time we pull up in front of my house, I just want the evening to end. I want to go inside and scrub Roman out of my mind and off my body while taking a hot bath.

  What occurred tonight can’t happen again. I thought staying away from him would be enough to make me get over him. Clearly, that’s not the case. I’m in deeper than I was before.