Loving Amara

𝟏𝟖| 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 strikes

-Amara-

Salvatore led me down the stairs while my eyes focused on his slacks that hugged his nice butt, making me wonder how he would look in skinny jeans. The thought of him in skinny jeans made a slightly drunken laugh bubble out of me.

Before I could smack it, my face collided into his hard back when he came to an abrupt stop as people cut him off, carrying their drunk friend over their heads and cheering.

I stumbled backwards, frowning. "Watch it, bud." I murmured, and suddenly we were moving again.

My bare feet crossed the room, following his steps as he pulled me back into the VIP section with all of his friends. All of the men who were seated shifted their gazes to me as Salvatore released my hand, and my lips formed an awkward smile as I gave them a tiny wave. Some of them grinned, some of them ignored me.

Their stares made me inch closer to Salvatore only to find that he wasn't standing next to me anymore. My brows bunched as I turned to look for him, and I let out a gasp the moment I seen him connect his fist with Gio's face.

A girl that I'd come to realize was the woman who was groping Salvatore earlier yelped and quickly got off of Gio's lap. Salvatore snatched him by his shirt that I'd unbuttoned minutes ago, bringing him closer as he gritted what I assumed were threats into his ear based off of the way Gio's fear-filled eyes met mine.

Gio nodded his head in a frenzy then was forcefully shoved back into his seat as Salvatore released him. He straightened, running his hand down the front of his shirt before turning to look at me. Crossing the distance between us, he took me by my hand and sat on the couch.

I gave Gio an apologetic look, but he quickly glanced away from me. Great, now he probably hates me. I was the reason he just had a knuckle-sandwich for dinner.

Salvatore widened his legs and pulled me down right on top of his man-area, pressing my back against his chest while his arm circled my waist. "Why did you do that?" I frowned, peering over my shoulder. Salvatore looked up at me, tilting his head to the side.

"Do what?" He asked, gently raising a brow. I rolled my eyes knowing that he was going to just act like he didn't assault Gio's face with his fist if I continued to question him. Turning away from him, I leaned back and rest my head on his shoulder.

It didn't take a while for me to grow bored as I sat on his lap, appearing to everyone as eye candy while my fingers fidgeted with the rings on his hands. We were at a club—his club if I'm being specific. We could be dancing and having fun, but instead he wanted to sit here and chit chat with his little murder buddies.

"Come dance with me," I told him, taking his hand as I tried to get up. He frowned, wrapping his other arm around me to keep me in place.

"I don't dance, piccola." He responded.

"Then you're lame," I forced myself up from his lap after fighting past his hold. I backed up from him as he watched me from his seat with a blank look. I bit my lip, curling my finger at him to come closer while backing out of the VIP section.

Salvatore shook his head at me, sitting back in his seat with his ankle of one foot resting on the knee of his other leg while his arms hung over the back of the couch. His dangerous gray eyes followed me, skimming my body as I swayed my hips side to side with the music.