Page 87 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

And from the looks of it, Molly is already well on her way. She gives me a nudge, and I twist around, not expecting much because that’s just how my life is going lately, and why should it be any different here on foreign soil?

When I see the guy standing over me with his crooked smile and laughing brown eyes, I bite down on my lower lip.

I wrap my arms around his waist and he pulls me close, brushing his lips against my ear. “What’s your name, beautiful?” he murmurs.

“Heaven.”

His fingers toy with the hem of my shirt. “Yes, you fucking are.” He backs me into a corner off the dance floor, away from Molly.

An inexplicable ripple of doubt thrums in my belly.

This is ridiculous. I’m being insane.

I wanted a distraction, and just like that, this very delicious one drops into my lap, almost literally.

I swallow my apprehension and stare up at him. His gaze is heated and filled with lust. He stares at me for a few seconds before his lips crash down on mine, urging them open with his tongue. He hugs me tight, plundering my hungry mouth. His fingers scorch a path over my skin, sliding over my bra.

And then a shiver snakes through my insides, chilling me.

It feels wrong. His hands get more demanding, his body almost overpowering. I’m down for a little shifting action, but something about this is definitely off.

Besides, he doesn’t look like the typical guys from around here.

Suddenly I don’t want to do this. I push him, but he doesn’t let go. I push harder, putting all my rage behind it. I bring my heel down on his foot and stumble free, looking around for Molly. She’s gone.

Vanished.

“Look, I’m sorry if I went too fast,” he says, grabbing me. I can’t hear too well because of the pounding music, but I detect a bit of an accent, though I can’t exactly place it in my current state. “I guess I just got caught up. You’re hot and sexy and?—”

“I’ve gotta go find my cousin.” I yank free.

Since I’m right near the restroom, I run in there, just to make sure she’s not passed out in one of the bathroom stalls. But even as I cut through the line, I know she isn’t. Molly can hold her liquor better than anyone I know, including my brothers.

I search the stalls, pounding on the locked ones, but sure enough, she isn’t there.

She wouldn’t have just left me here, even to hook up with some guy.

I pull out my phone and dial her number.

It goes straight to voicemail.

The panic that rippled through me only moments ago now crashes over me like a tsunami.

I rush back onto the dance floor, trying like hell to remember who Molly had been dancing with. But I can’t.

I take a few deep breaths, trying to clear my head and think.

It’s amazing how sober I feel in this moment after being damn-near inebriated such a short time ago. But Molly is gone and pure, unadulterated fear has chased away the fuzzy, drunken cobwebs that were hanging low in my mind. I push my way through the crowd and run out the front door of the pub.

“Molly!” I shout.

The pub is located on a corner, and the cobblestone streets surrounding the entrance are quiet. It’s late, so the restaurants on the street are closed. I run to the side of the building, my high-heeled feet pounding the slick stones. I scream for Molly. There’s a darkened alley ahead, and loud voices erupt from about twenty feet away.

“…let her go…distracted…now she’s gone!”

I frown, the foreign accent making my throat tighten.

Sounds like the guy from the pub…

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