Page 436 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

Always keep focus, no matter what.

Those are the rules I’ve lived by and because of him, I’ve shoved them all into the dark recesses of my mind because being around him…with him…makes me happy.

Goddammit!

Have we not already established that happiness is not in my cards?

I pick up speed as I sidestep a group of drunk guys slugging down their yard-long, bright red and blue cocktails as they stagger down the sidewalk.

“This is ridiculous!” I huff. “I have a job to do. So, we had sex. Hot sex,” I mutter as my sneakers pound on the pavement, my leg muscles aching at the sudden increase in speed. “It’s over now. He’s leaving and I’m not his little plaything. He can’t use me and then throw me away!” I grunt. “I’m not going to be his little distraction, someone to occupy his time with until he gets itchy and needs to bolt.”

I stop in front of a street lamp post, leaning against the scalding hot metal, but feeling too fired up with anger that I don’t even notice it searing the backs of my legs. I pant for a few minutes, watching cars zoom past, lost in my own pity party.

Because the reality is, I don’t want to be a distraction.

I want to be the center of somebody’s world.

Forget the fact that this whole thing is twisted as hell because of the circumstances, but I can’t ignore the memory of his body buried deep inside of mine, the sensations that course through me whenever he’s near, his sultry, manly scent, his heated gaze, and the ass that just doesn’t quit.

I feel too much and I’ve lost control of my heart as a result.

How could I have let this happen?

I should be calling the shots and instead, I’m reduced to a pile of emotional Jell-O because the guy electrifies my insides with an erotic charge that can rival the power grid of Las Vegas.

I cover my face with my hands and let out a muffled yell. “Fuck him!”

But it comes out sounding more like “Mnuhphhimm!”

“Muffin? Fuck yeah, that sounds good.”

“Oh my God!” I jump, clutching a hand to my chest as I twist around. My heart rate skyrockets when I see Dante smirking at me, his massive arms folded over his chest. His shirt is stuffed into the pocket of his basketball shorts and he’s got a Yankees baseball cap on backwards. Ray-Bans complete his sexy-as-fuck look, and I bite down hard on my lower lip because I am a tiny bit afraid if I don’t, my tongue will jut out and do all sorts of unspeakable things, right here in the open.

It’s Vegas, so I doubt anyone would even notice.

Although, since it’s Vegas, they might join in.

“Did I scare you?” he asks, that shit-eating grin making my knees wobble.

“Not even close,” I hiss.

“Good, so how about a snack?” He winks at me. “You, know, since you mentionedmuffins.”

I press my lips together. No more distractions! “I don’t have time. Aisling is probably up from her nap and Heaven?—”

“Heaven has her aunt.” He stretches his arms overhead and I watch his biceps flex, the sun glistening on his bronze skin. I can feel my tongue sweep over my lips and his smirk widens.

Dammit.

Just another instance of my body betraying me!

I fix my ponytail and give him a quick wave. “I’ll see you later.” I start to jog back toward the Excelsior, berating myself for allowing his gorgeousness to once again shatter me. I am a badass bitch. I don’t let guys unravel me like this. Nobody has that privilege!

Not even a minute later, I hear a second pair of sneakers thumping along the sidewalk next to me.

“I don’t know why you’re following me,” I grumble.

“We’re going to the same place, yeah?”

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