Claimed by the Cartel

Chapter 5 : Date

Honey

What the hell was I doing here?

My heart was in my throat. My stomach was in my toes. I was so unbelievably nervous meeting Roman for drinks. I still had my backpack on my shoulder for f**k's sake. Dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans. My hair was a mess on top of my head.

I didn't look anything like the way I did at that club. No mesh shirt and lacy bra. I wasn't dressed remotely sexy.

I've never been one to be insecure with myself, but I also wasn't the person who went out to bars to meet people. God, I looked so out of place.

As I looked around, I saw suits and business wear like most of the patrons had just gotten out of work. And here I was, a little college kid.

No, Honey, I told myself, putting a stop to those worrisome thoughts. Right now, I was a confident woman, not a bumbling, awkward girl. I could pretend, right?

I scanned the bar, looking for Roman. Slender and tall. Tattoos on his forearms and hands. Thick, dark hair. Nearly black eyes. Hard to read.

He wasn't there.

A frown pulled at the corner of my mouth as I pulled out my phone to see if he sent me a message. No. Nothing.

My thumbs hovered over the keyboard. Would it be clingy to ask him where he was? Just with that one thought, my mind propelled me into a spiral of overthinking. f**k, my head was so loud. Why couldn't I just shut it off?

“I need to see ID," a voice said out of nowhere, instantly pulling me out of my thoughts and temporarily shutting up all those voices.

I looked up at what looked like a bartender. A shaved streak through his eyebrow. Frown lines on his face made him look older than he was. Stress weary around his eyes. Was it his job or perhaps home life?

Stop analyzing strangers and answer the f*****g question, Honey.

My blank look encouraged him to say, “Only twenty-one and up after 8 p.m."

I scrambled for my ID, unzipping my backpack. Nerves whorled in my belly just from the scrutinous gaze of this bartender. “Uh…"

“Robbie! Hey, good evening," Roman's voice permeated the room from behind me and I instantly relaxed.

“Oh, Mr. Lozano. I didn't realize you were coming in today. Will your brothers be joining you?" The bartender was stumbling over his words. He instantly stood up straighter, forgetting about me altogether.

I turned slightly, almost off-put by Roman's relaxed demeanor. The bartender was acting like Roman was important, while he was acting like he was long-time friends with the bartender. Smooth charm radiated off him. It felt absolutely magnetizing.

“Not today," Roman answered. “I'm on a date." He winked at me and I felt my cheeks start to warm. “Is there a problem? I can go elsewhere."

The bartender paled, looking at me and then back at Roman. “Oh, no. Not at all."

A dimple punctured his cheek. “Good. Would you get my regular booth ready?"

“At once." And then the bartender was gone, scrambling to the back.

I pulled on my fingers, my heart rate spiking when he slung an arm over my shoulder, confidently standing beside me. Instantly, I felt like I belonged there. Gazing up at him, I asked, “You have your own booth?"

His smile widened, revealing the second dimple on the other side of his mouth. “I do a lot of business here." He paused, eyebrows coming together. “Speaking of, I got a little tangled up at work, so I'm sorry about being late."

“What business?" I asked. “What do you do?"

His eyes glinted mischievously. “Nosy. Nosy," he teased. “I suppose I should be flattered that you're so interested in my profession, but I'm afraid it's not very interesting. I work in law."

I could feel his hand cup my shoulder as he leaned in closer. My assumption about him smelling nice was accurate. He smelled like expensive cologne blended with a natural musk of earth, slightly metallic in nature.

Somehow, it made my mouth water.

“Do you still want me to put your bag in my car?" he asked, eyes flickering down to my backpack.

“If you don't mind," I murmured, tucking some hair behind my ear.

“Not at all."

“Let me escort you to your booth," Robbie the bartender offered.

“Of course, and would you please take her bag to my car?" Roman passed Robbie a key fob and Robbie practically tripped over his own feet to follow the instruction. For that reason alone, I felt comfortable handing over my bag to a stranger.

“Yes, of course, sir. Enjoy your evening."

I scooted down the leather seat in a fairly secluded-looking booth away from the speakers. I wondered if Roman didn't like the noise. Robbie ran off with my bag and Roman sat across from me, shrugging off his suit coat to throw it on the bench next to him.

“Wow, how much business do you do here?" I pointed out, almost teasingly, looking over the drink menu, but really I was more hungry. “They're tripping over themselves and all the 'yes, sirs'?"

“To be fair, I prefer being called Daddy," he stated.

It took me a moment to realize what he said. As soon as I did, my stomach did a little flip, tightening hard in my abdomen. I slowly looked up, my mouth falling open completely. His dark eyes met mine and it really seemed like my reaction pleased him.

But he continued on like he didn't just say that out loud. “And one of my brothers owns a winery, and this bar happens to carry it. And I'm a f*****g good tipper." He didn't open the menu, his eyes were locked onto mine and I didn't know if I could ever look away from him. “Enough about me, tell me about yourself, Honey."

My mouth felt dry, but I snapped my mouth closed. My tongue sneaked out to wet my bottom lip. And I really liked how Roman's dark eyes followed the gesture. “Well, I don't know if I'm all that interesting."

He leaned back in the booth, rolling up his sleeves around toned forearms. Tattoos curling around his arms. How far did they go?

A wave of heat licked my spine at the thought.

“If you are so boring, Honey, then why are you here?" Roman asked, loosening his tie.

“Intrigue, mainly," I answered before I could stop myself.

He raised his thick, perfectly arched brows at me as if he was genuinely surprised. “Oh, do tell."

“I'm good at reading people, Roman. Like freakishly good at it," I explained, wondering if I was oversharing. Most guys would run for the hills, but not Roman.

“How good?" He looked around the bar, a curious smile playing on his lips. “Can you read her?" he asked, pointing over at a pretty redhead drinking a glass of red wine.

I pulled the side of my lip into my mouth, chewing on it before I answered, “She is getting stood up. Keeps checking her phone. Glass of red wine. Only one, she doesn't want to get drunk."

“That's too easy," Roman pointed out.

I tilted my head to the side. “I'm not done."

The side of his mouth pulled into a sly smile. “Oh. Okay. Continue."

“She's making eyes at the waiter. I think she's waiting for the opportunity for a rebound."

Roman looked skeptical.

“Look at her body language. She's elongating her neck. Parting her thighs. And only at him. She swirls the rim of the glass with her tongue when he's looking over at her," I pointed out.

“All that with a glance?" he asked. “I'm impressed."

A warmth bloomed in my chest.

The next hour and a half were spent with Roman pointing out the next people for me to read. Eventually, we ordered drinks and split a few appetizers. It briefly surprised me that Roman didn't drink, but he had no problem ordering me another Tequila Sunrise. Just one.

Just enough to feel light and fuzzy, but not drunk.

Weirdly enough, I felt incredibly at ease. I didn't expect to feel so comfortable with a man I barely knew.

And frankly, it should have put me off that I still couldn't read him. His body language was painfully neutral, and even when he said something, he gave no indication if it was genuine. The only thing I could pick up from him was his obvious interest in me.

His gaze would trail down my throat when I took a drink, lingering too long on my lips. He hadn't touched me, but I wanted him to. I noticed how he picked up his glass with surprisingly thoughtful motions. And I wanted him to run those thoughtful fingers across my skin.

I could feel the electricity humming in the air around us.

“Oh, s**t, would you look at the time," Roman stated, glancing down at his watch. “Do you have class tomorrow?"

I released a little gasp and caught a glimpse of it. Nearly midnight. We'd been talking for nearly three hours. “I didn't realize how late it was getting," I admitted sheepishly.

“I didn't either. Come on. I'll give you a ride back to campus," he said as he rose from his seat, tipping generously over the bill. Almost obscenely. My budget could never.

“You don't have to. It's walking distance," I objected, walking with him out the front door.

“Are you sure? I'm driving a very nice car," Roman teased, but I also knew he wasn't joking as he clicked his car fob, and a black Jaguar lit up in the parking lot.

I tucked some hair back, but the loose tendrils kept falling back into my face. “I'm sure, but thank you. We should do this again sometime."

He opened the passenger door to grab my backpack for me, tossing his suit coat inside. No reply.

Well, maybe it didn't go as well as I thought it did. “Or not. That's fine. Totally fine."

It wasn't fine. A potent sense of disappointment settled in my belly.

No reply. He shut the door, putting my backpack on the car's hood.

“Okay…well, I guess I'll just take my backpack and—"

Suddenly, Roman's arm shot out and grasped my sweatshirt, yanking me against the side of the car. I released an indignified squeak as he cornered me between the car and his body. Both tattooed arms caged my head and my heartbeat ramped up, the disappointment swirling into a cocktail of excitement and fear.

“You're always in that head of yours, aren't you? Silence makes you uncomfortable. You twirl your hair when you're nervous," he stated, voice dropping as his breath fanned over my lips.

To add to his point, he took a rogue strand of hair and pushed it out of my face. His fingertips left lines of tingles across my cheeks. “While you've been reading the room, I've been reading you. And so far, I like what I've seen. I enjoyed our date. I would like to do it again if you can answer one question."

“W-What?" I asked breathlessly.

“What do you read when you look at me, Honey?"

A lump formed in my throat and I tried to gulp it down. I searched his eyes, the lines in his face, the silvered scars on his knuckles. I couldn't read him.

My heart hammered even faster when my belly pooled with heat. It excited me. Roman excited me. Slowly, my eyes fell to his mouth, to two perfectly plush, kissable lips. And instead of answering, I got up on my toes and lightly brushed my lips across his.

Roman made a noise that made my knees wobble as he pressed me harder against his car, one of his hands going to cup my throat. I gasped as he deepened the kiss. He didn't wait for me to catch up.

He devoured my mouth, tongue stroking along my lower lip, taking it between his teeth to give it a violent nip. His other hand slid down my side, leaving prickles wherever it went, and gripped my thigh hard, moving it to curve around his hip.

Wetness pooled between my legs when I felt him, both of my hands unconsciously fisting in his shirt to keep kissing him. His mouth intoxicated me, making me dizzy and hungry for air. But I didn't want air. My leg trembled in his grip and he only moved harder, pressing his entire body against mine.

His hard body moved against me, and I couldn't believe this was happening. My mind felt all fuzzy. Insides throbbing for affection. I'd never felt a man like this before…not really. Not in a way that made me feel so wanted.

Something inside of me tightened, winding me up like a musical jewelry box. The sensation was foreign, snaking through my belly so suddenly, I didn't know what was happening to me.

Roman pulled back from me, mouth swollen, eyes unbelievably dark. “If you want me to f**k you right here, I will. I don't f*****g care who sees."

His mouth dropped to my throat and excitement burst through my skin at the new feeling, but nerves took its place quickly. I didn't know what I was doing. “I-I can't."

My entire body whined in dissatisfaction as Roman leaned back, putting space between us. My heart nearly jumped into my throat when I saw a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. “Probably for the better. You sure you don't want that ride?"

I was panting. Chest heaving. And Roman was talking so casually like he didn't just kiss my breath away, still with my leg around his hips and my throat in his hand. I nodded.

He held my throat for a moment longer. “Message me when you get back to your dorm. I'd like to do this again." His words were nice, but his tone was…cold.

Then he released me, my leg hitting the pavement like jelly, my throat still tingling where he held it. He grasped my backpack and handed it over to me. I took it shyly, cheeks bright red.

He was never going to call me again, was he?

It would happen time and time again. I refuse to have s*x with someone and they get all pouty and offended. A pit opened up in my stomach.

I was starting to really like Roman.

Both of his hands cupped my face and he leaned down to give me one last peck. “I mean it. Message me."

My eyes widened and any doubt that he wasn't interested washed away. Why else would he give me one last kiss before leaving?

As I walked back to my dorm, I felt light. Giddy. And when I got back, I sent Roman a text.

Me: Back safe.