Page 159 of The Wicked
Bringing my wineglass to my lips, I looked around the large room where conversations, laughter, and clanking of forks to plates resounded in the air.
My gaze connected with a gruff-looking man at a far-off table; it stayed for two seconds before he looked away. I took a sip of my drink, glancing at the table two steps away from him; two men, one in a maroon suit and the other in a striped black-and-white one, turned my way before subtly looking away. I swallowed the wine, looking up to the railing where two men stood with drinks in hand, conversing before they glanced my way, and averted their gaze seconds after.
I returned my attention to my table, stopping short when I caught Angelo staring at me. The suspicion in his eyes was so evident that I couldn’t help but curl up one side of my lips in a smirk while raising my glass to him before looking away to a tense Elio beside me.
His attention was not on the table, and when I followed his gaze, I found he was staring at a woman who sat at the table next to ours. She was laughing loudly at what someone at her table had said.
I frowned.
He was staring intently at her, which made me size her up. She was a gorgeous model-figure beauty, with a pretty feminine smile, long curly light brown hair that reached her back, and soft painted lips that could be considered charming, to say the least.
My frown deepened as I looked back at Elio, whose attention had utterly left the woman to another table.
I followed his gaze, and lo and behold, he was staring at another woman. This one was a platinum blonde, long hair straightened to perfection. She wore a strapless dress. She had a heart-shaped face and a Cupid’s bow mouth. Minimal makeup. Really beautiful.
His fingers on the table drummed absentmindedly. My gaze dropped to his knee beside me; it was bouncing rapidly underneath the table.
He seemed so tense.
I looked back at him to see his gaze on yet another woman; this one had auburn hair pulled up in a ponytail, loose strands falling down her face as she smiled at the conversation going around their table.
I wasn’t his girlfriend or anything, but fuck if I didn’t want to bash his head on the table.
But it was also strange because Elio didn’t seem like the kind of man to be this blatantly rude.
Subtly, I shifted my chair near his and placed my hand on his knee. “Hey.”
The shaking stopped, and he turned to look at me, gray eyes locking with mine.
I ran my hand up his thigh. “Focus on me, will you?”
His gaze dropped to my hand on his thigh, and I noticed how he grew more tense upon my touch.
At that moment, the mayor called his attention with a question. He looked away from me and didn’t say anything about my hand on his thigh under the table; he just conversed with the mayor with complete control in his voice.
My hand rubbed his thigh smoothly, my thumb brushing against the inner side, trying to calm his nerves… or… making it worse, because he wasn’t getting calm. His body was growing more tense, and I had an inkling that he was hard, though his voice was steady as he spoke.
I almost cursed myself for the idea that crossed my mind, but my brain had stopped transporting reasonable thoughts to my hand as it moved further up his thigh under the table until my finger brushed against his crotch.
My stomach jumped with excitement when I felt his semi-hard-on.
I should stop.
I was going against his rules.
Rules? Pfft. I’d never been one to abide by them, and I sure as hell wouldn’t start now.
So instead of stopping, I felt him up, rubbing against his erection, which grew harder by the second, thanks to the stimulation coming from my hand.
I could feel the defined outline of him, and I was grateful that his trench coat was long enough to shield any eyes from behind and in front of us.
The mayor asked him another question about something that had to do with a small town near Milan. Elio responded, voice still level, all attention on him, including mine.
I marveled at his level of control and decorum. The look onhis face didn’t give away the fact that he was getting strokes from my hand underneath the table.
He went on to explain some talk that had to do with citizens’ data.
My hand skillfully brushed the outline of his cock, squeezing a little as I gave one tight rub.
