Melinda
Antonio was impossible. I’d tried everything I could think of – making him follow me around and carry my shopping bags, dangling the idea of lingerie in front of him. Hell, I even made him buy me an ice cream cone on the way home from the shopping trip. But he was seemingly impenetrable from the outside. His dark eyes were ciphers, and I was starting to feel I was never going to be able to really figure him out.
I decided that night, I’d take him to Hurricanes and see how tough he really was.
“Antonio,” I said as soon as he picked up the phone. “I changed my mind. We’re going out tonight – I wanna go dancing, at Hurricanes.”
“Melinda, that place isn’t in a good part of town.”
I rolled my eyes. “Duh,” I said. “That’s why you’re coming with me!”
“Does your father know about this?”
Covering the receiver of the phone, I pranced into the kitchen. Dad was sitting at the kitchen table, making a list of figures in his leather-bound accounting book. “Hi, Daddy,” I chirped. “Antonio’s going to take me clubbing tonight, at Hurricanes. That okay with you?”
Dad beamed. “Sure, sweetie,” he said. “You be sure to be good, though. Okay?”
Grinning, I held the phone up to my ear. “Did you hear that?” I asked Antonio sweetly. “Daddy’s fine with you taking me to Hurricanes.”
Antonio grumbled and hung up before giving me an actual answer.
As I got ready to go out that night, I couldn’t wipe the smirk off my face. I knew I shouldn’t delight in tormenting him, but I really couldn’t help it. The idea of sticking it to Antonio meant sticking it to my father, and I was still feeling so resentful of my situation that I barely even thought about anything else, much less talked about it. Even Cassandra and Gloria were sick of hearing me ramble about Dad and how unfair my life was.
“Well, you’re out now, isn’t that the point?” Gloria had asked, narrowing her eyes. “I mean, that’s what you wanted, right? So why aren’t you happy?”
I’d just sighed. Of course Cassandra and Gloria wouldn’t understand. They thought my dad was just being overprotective. They didn’t understand that my life would seriously be over if I tried to do anything without Antonio…or with him.
That night, I dressed more wild and slutty than I ever had before. I wore a red dress so tight I couldn’t even wear a thong with it, and I made sure to pull it down low. My black lace bra peeked out of the top, and when I leaned a certain way, I was sure the dark skin of my areolas was visible. I made my hair as big as possible, teasing it to the sky and securing it with a handful of rhinestone-spangled pins. My eyes were ringed with jet-black liner and dark eye shadow, and I put on the brightest, shiniest shade of red lipstick I owned.
When Antonio saw me, though, he merely nodded. “Come on,” Antonio said dutifully. He jerked his head towards the door. “You ready to go or not?”
I sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I grumbled, pushing past Antonio and stalking out of the house. His luxury sedan was parked in the driveway with the headlights on and soft music playing inside. By the Samuele I crawled into the passenger seat, I realized the leather beneath my ass was heated. “This is a nice car,” I chirped as Antonio drove me downtown. “How did you buy it?” Slouching down in the seat, I spread my thighs as widely as I could in the tight dress. Antonio didn’t look at me. I coughed, arching my back and sticking my breasts into the air.
Infuriatingly enough, Antonio still wasn’t looking.
“I earned the money working for a friend of your father’s,” Antonio said evenly. Even though he looked like a gangster, he drove like an old man – we didn’t break fifty miles per hour the whole damn way. “I did some similar work for him, with his stepfamily, while he was on vacation in Italy.”
I licked my lips. “You mean Leo,” I said. “And his wife, Utka.”
Antonio nodded.
“What did you think of her?” I asked pointedly. Leo was one of Dad’s business partners, and he’d always given me the creeps. After his wife, Terri, died of breast cancer, he’d married a woman from Slovenia named Utka. Her features were sculpted almost entirely of silicone from plastic surgery. Her almond-shaped held a constant look of indifference, and her lips never seemed to move, even when she was talking. Her I didn’t like at all, but I hated Leo. He was one of those adult men who always kisses women on the mouth, and I’d been dodging his advances since middle school.
Antonio shrugged. He navigated the car into a parking lot attached to the club. “She was fine,” he said.
“Really?” I widened my eyes and pulled down the makeup mirror to tousle my hair even more. “She seems like such a gold-digging bitch to me,” I said. “She’s, what, like twenty years younger than Leo?”
Antonio sighed. “It’s not my job to judge,” he merely said. “And you’re not going to goad me into saying anything that’s going to get me into trouble.”
I glared. “You’re no fun,” I said, pouting. “Hey, thanks for the lift!”
Before Antonio could finish parking the car, I leapt out of the passenger seat and darted across the parking lot. My heels almost caught on a crack in the pavement, but I managed to make it inside the club before Antonio had even climbed out from behind the wheel.
I smirked as I handed over my coat to the coat-check girl. I knew I was playing with fire, but what other choice did I have? If I wanted to tempt Antonio, I was really going to have to figure out a way to push as many of his buttons as possible.
“Hey,” Antonio growled from behind me. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His voice was quiet, but still loud enough for the coat-check girl to hear.
“Don’t talk to your girlfriend like that,” she said flippantly in a thick Jersey accent as she handed me my ticket. “She’s a woman. She deserves respect.”
“She’s a fucking little moron,” Antonio growled back.
For a moment, I thought the coat girl was going to slap him. But after a few seconds of staring at Antonio, she narrowed her eyes, tossed her hair, and walked off.
I turned around, glaring. “Why the hell did you have to do that?” I hissed as Antonio and I walked into the club. Just like before, the matte black interior assaulted my senses from every direction. The music was blasting, and I let my body move to the beat as I walked over to the bar.
Antonio grabbed my shoulder. “If you try anything,” he snarled in my ear, “you’re gonna seriously regret it, Melinda.” He glared at me. “I know you’re trying to test me.”
I grinned. Was I really being that obvious? I didn’t have to ask – I knew the answer. “I love this song!” I cried as the music changed and a popular song from a few years before blared through the speakers. This song had been popular during my senior year of high school, and hearing it now brought up tons of memories.
It hit me in that moment that I’d turned into one of those girls who goes to the club and screeches like a banshee whenever she hears a favorite song from high school. But I didn’t want to dwell on anything depressing just now – I was here to have a good Samuele…and torment Antonio.
“You go dance,” Antonio said. He gestured towards the floor dismissively. “I’m getting a drink.”
Obeying, I moved out into the middle of the floor. But I kept one eye on Antonio – I wanted to see what kind of thing he’d order. Was he the kind of guy who went for a rum and cola? Or what about cognac, neat, just like my dad?
But when Antonio emerged from the bar and sat down at the edge of a black velvet booth, I laughed. He was carrying a can of soda in his hand – the lemon-lime kind with no caffeine.
“You’re so boring,” I said under my breath. I couldn’t even hear my own whispers; it was so loud in the club that my head was throbbing and I wasn’t sure if it was pain or just from the massive bass speakers perched at the edge of the dance floor.
A guy walked over to me, shaking his body and moving his hands to the rhythm of the song. He grinned at me and I grinned back – I wasn’t so much excited by his presence as excited by the fact that Antonio was watching me in his presence.
“Hey, baby,” the guy crooned in my ear. “You wanna dance?”
He didn’t wait for me to respond, just put his arm around my waist and pulled me across the floor. I squealed in surprise – despite his lanky frame, he was actually really strong. He grinned at me again and draped his arms over my shoulders and pressed his torso to my ass. The beat of the song shifted again and I started swaying my hips, keeping my feet firmly in place and grinding my ass against this random guy’s crotch.
“I’m Samuel,” the guy whispered in my ear. His breath smelled like cigarettes and whiskey. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”
I rolled my eyes, glad he wasn’t looking at my face. I liked dancing with random guys like this, but I was starting to think it probably wasn’t a good idea to give my real name out to strangers. After all, what if Alexander was still mad about the last Samuel he’d caught me here? What if he had guys working for him, spying to see whether or not I showed up again?
“I’m Cassandra,” I shouted over the music. “Nice to meet you!”
Samuel didn’t reply. He snaked an arm down my chest, over the swell of my breasts inside my tight outfit, and held me closer. The heat from his body was seeping through my clothes, and I felt a fine sheen of perspiration break out over my forehead.
“You wanna go somewhere more private?” Samuel whispered.
I groaned. He was really starting to get on my nerves. And leaving the dance floor wasn’t my plan – the opposite, actually.
Turning my head over my shoulder, I opened my eyes wide and fluttered my lashes. Up close, Samuel wasn’t bad looking, but he wasn’t really my type. He was fair, with freckles scattered across his nose and broad cheeks. A mop of light brown hair was pushed back from his forehead, but I could see the gel was starting to break down in his sweat.
“I like being here,” I said flirtatiously, shoving my ass against Samuel harder than before. “It makes me feel so naughty to do this in public!”
Samuel’s eyes lit up and his face broke out into a wide grin. Amateur, I thought, staring at him. Despite the confidence he’d shown when he’d first walked up, I could tell he had little experience with actual women.
“Let’s dance over here,” I said, untangling myself from Samuel’s grasp and prancing to the edge of the dance floor. I walked with my feet exactly in front of each other, making my ass swing lusciously from side to side with each step. Samuel followed close behind me. As soon as I was out of the crowd, I spotted Antonio. He was still sitting in the booth, sipping his soda.
“Come here,” I told Samuel. He obliged, stepping behind me and putting his hands on my waist. I grabbed them and shoved them lower, resting them on my hips. Together, we began to dip and sway and grind against each other. I moaned softly, arching my back and closing my eyes and letting my lips part and my tongue poke out. Samuel’s erection was like a flagpole against the cheek of my ass, and it wasn’t actually that comfortable, but it wasn’t for my own benefit that I was doing all this. As Samuel groaned into my mane of dark hair, I rubbed suggestively against him then bent at the waist until my palms were touching the gritty, damp dance floor.
I stayed bent over for a few seconds, shaking my ass. My dress was sliding up my thighs, and I knew I was dangerously close to showing off my ass to everyone in Hurricanes. But I wasn’t done, not yet.
Flipping my hair over my head, I kept my back arched and my breasts pushed out as I slowly stood all the way back up. As soon as I was fully standing, I ran my hands down my body and moaned again, cupping my breasts through my dress. Opening my eyes, I stared right at Antonio.
He was staring at me, his lips slightly parted, his soda knocked to the ground, obviously forgotten.