The Sweetest Oblivion (Made 1)

I rolled my eyes like I was put out, but in reality, I had to bite my cheek to hold in a smile as I turned to walk into the bedroom. “Male strippers. You know, men who dance while taking their clothes off.”

Nico and I had spent another night at the penthouse, though I would rather go home. I stayed entertained by smothering myself with him day and night, so I guessed it didn’t matter where we were, as long as he was near.

I’d gotten a call from my mamma at eight a.m. and Nico had handed me his phone and fell back asleep while I chatted about my bachelorette party tonight—hence him snapping my ass with a towel.

I headed to my bag that sat on the dresser and dug through it for some clothes before he could welt my bare skin again.

He walked up behind me. “There’s not a chance some man’s putting his hands all over you, Elena.”

I turned, my lips pulling into a frown. “Do strippers touch?”

“It’s called a fucking lap dance, baby,” he growled.

“Oh,” I said nonchalantly and turned back around. “Good to know.”

“Good to know, why?”

“I’ll have to shave.”

That comment got me tossed on the bed, and I was laughing before I hit the mattress.

“Who the hell thought it was okay for you to have strippers at your party?” he said, exasperated.

“God, you’re crazy. I was just messing with you! We’re going to a burlesque show.” I sighed, leaning back on my arms. “You’re no fun to play with.”

He stood at the end of the bed with narrowed eyes. “Am I supposed to find other men touching you funny?”

Something vulnerable climbed up my throat. “You’re full of double standards, Nico. I know you’re going to a strip club tonight, and I know how happy everyone will be to chip in for all your lap dances.” I knew there was no way to keep this man out of a strip club—I was sure he owned one or several—but the idea of some woman with her hands on him made me feel sick.

“How do you know where I’m going? I haven’t even heard about it.”

“Benito told my mamma.”

“Benito.” He grimaced. “How would that asshole know?”

How could he not like my cousin? Everyone liked Benito.

“What else would you do, Nico?” A strip club was the tamest thing possible for a Made Man’s bachelor party. One of my older cousins had gotten married last year and there were hookers rented out for the night. I only knew that because Benito texted me to ask how to know a woman wanted him if she’d already been paid to sleep with him.

“I’d rather call the whole thing off. I don’t like dropping you off at your parents’.”

“Why?”

“I don’t trust your papà.”

“He’s your father-in-law now, Nico. You’ll have to learn how to get along.”

He let out a breath of amusement, running his hand through his hair. “I seem to be getting a whole lot of baggage with you, woman.”

I frowned.

His heavy gaze burned mine. “Nobody touches you, Elena, no matter what you do tonight. Do you understand me?”

“Nobody touches you,” I shot back.

We stared at each other for a moment, the realization of how deep we were both in sweeping into the room. Amusing, as we were married, but also thrilling in its possessiveness and need. He was mine, and nobody else could have him.

“Sounds like we’ve got a deal,” he drawled, before yanking me closer by the ankle and climbing on top of me. Happiness filled my chest like a balloon, and I wondered if you could love someone so much you’d burst.