Page 2 of Single Mom’s Mafia Daddies (The Forbidden Reverse Harem Collection #22)
Darkness clung to the sky and painted the quad in shades of midnight blue and dusky purple.
Tiny squares of light from the building’s lit windows guided me as I strode up the concrete sidewalk, my little black dress riding high on my thighs with every step.
I’d paired it with gold hoops and the heart necklace my parents bought me for my last birthday, along with black heels that boosted my petite height.
Light makeup covered my freckles and blended my honey-toned skin.
I’d chosen to leave my long, wavy auburn hair loose down, enjoying the way it swayed over the dress’s open back and tickled my skin.
When I arrived at the event center, a man roughly my age opened the door and ushered me through, pressing a red Solo cup into my hand as I passed.
I nodded my thanks and set the cup down on the nearest table.
I knew better than to accept an open drink at a place like this.
Didn’t mean I couldn’t find one myself, though.
Music surged from the open room at my left.
I peeked around the door for a better look and found at least a hundred students dancing together in a writhing mass.
A few younger professors joined them, but most of the faculty remained around the perimeter of the room or sitting at the makeshift bar where a white-haired man poured drinks and passed them across one after the other.
When the email said student/faculty party, I expected wine and maybe a cheese tray. This resembled a full-on frat party.
“Want to dance?” A handsome blond man held out a hand and motioned at the dance floor.
I scanned the room once more for Alessio and finally spotted him sitting at the end of the bar with a small glass of amber liquid in front of him, wearing a brand suit far out of a professor’s budget. He raised his head as though he felt my gaze and turned.
I sucked in a breath, anticipation raising goosebumps on my arms, and shifted so he wouldn’t catch me staring.
“No thanks.” I waved the blond off and weaved my way through the crowd until I reached the bar.
“What’s good?” I asked the bartender.
He eyed me with a lightning quick grin. “I have just the thing.” He turned and snatched a series of bottles off the shelves, dumping liquid in a stainless-steel shaker too fast for me to read the labels.
Within seconds, a crimson drink sat in front of me.
He nudged it closer with one finger. “Tell me what you think.”
Everything in me urged me to turn and look at Alessio. I resisted and sipped the cocktail. Fruity but sharp, with just enough kick to feel it without dropping me to the floor after just one drink. “Perfect.”
The bartender’s smile returned. “It’s called a Red Velvet. One of my personal creations.”
Someone tapped my shoulder, and a shadow cut across my vision until a man sat on the open stool beside me.
The alcohol swirled hot in my belly and mingled with the eagerness of spending time with Alessio. I faced the man, a smile already forming, but it wasn’t Alessio on the stool.
Another student smiled at me, a dimple forming in his cheek. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you.” Compliments were nice no matter who they came from.
He trailed a fingertip along my bare shoulder and down my arm to my elbow. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Already have one.” I raised it in a mini salute. “Thanks anyway.”
“How about a dance?” He stood and held out a hand. “Be a shame not to show off that dress.”
“Maybe after I finish my drink.” I took another slow sip, using the motion to check on Alessio. He was still at the end of the bar, staring straight ahead. Damn it. Why? Why was he ignoring me? I drained the drink and held out my hand. “Let’s dance.”
I regretted my impulsive decision ten seconds later when the dude turned pushy and handsy. The song’s fast pace should have kept him away from me, but he insisted on grabbing my hips and trying to grind his pelvis into mine. I pushed his chest, forcing him back.
“Touch me without my permission again and I’ll dislocate your jaw.” My hand tightened into a fist, Dad’s lessons in self-defense roaring through me. He’d worried about sending me out into the big, bad world alone. Being petite and curvy had its uses…and its downfalls.
He started to lean in, glanced over my shoulder, then backed away with his hands up in front of him.
Ugh. Fuck this. Fuck the party. Fuck the stupid frat boys who thought the only reason any girl would dance with them was to dry hump. I’d had enough.
I checked to make sure my keys and wallet were still in the tiny wallet strapped to my thigh and walked out the front door. So much for getting Alessio to notice me. The trees hid me from view as I made my escape, but I kept a hand on my pepper spray in case anyone else tried to take advantage.
What was the deal with these boys? Hadn’t anyone ever talked to them about consent?
I muttered under my breath all the way to the curb, then turned right to follow it to my apartment. Headlights flared behind me, the low growl of an engine screaming closer. I stopped and stepped off the sidewalk, gauging the distance back to the apartment and safety.
A sleek, black car stopped feet away, the passenger door opening to illuminate Alessio’s stunning visage. “Get in.”
I couldn’t place the tone, but the command put me in a strange predicament of wanting to run and to obey at the same time. Danger rippled around him in waves. Danger and something that set my body on fire when he turned his full attention on me.
I slid into the car.
Without missing a beat, he slammed the door shut. “Don’t ever tempt me like that again, Miss Carmichael. I am not what you think.”
“Like what?” I challenged him because why the fuck not. “I didn’t do anything.” The car smelled like leather. Like luxury and money. A deep and masculine scent that I’d never be able to forget. Again, I had that sense of something other in Alessio.
His lips slammed over mine, hungry and insistent as he devoured the argument I’d been building against staying in the car. With nothing more than his lips, he convinced me to stay.
One hand cupped the back of my head, the long fingers holding me close as his tongue danced with mine.
I ached for more, for all of him, and allowed that to fuel my motives as I dug my fingers into the lapels of his Armani suit.
The possessive way he held me sparked a new flurry of desire.
I’d had sex before, but nothing came close to the way he made me feel.
I released his lapels and stroked my hands down his chest, pulling back from the kiss. “My apartment is a mile away.”