“Has anybody ever told you that your face should be on magazines?”
Gigi’s head popped up as a laugh burst from her lips. The man that had been working with the girls further down the bar approached her spot at the end, passing by at least twenty other people who gestured with a bit more ferocity at his blatant disregard for their shouts and demands. The white tee he wore stretched across the broad bands of muscle that made up an expansive chest. Rolled up at the sleeves, the fabric tightened to show off the way his strong arms and golden skin, dusted with dark hair, glinted under the pot lights that made up the backdrop of the bar when he placed them in front of her spot on the shiny top.
Black hair, shaved down to a well-groomed buzz, had a blue tint and only added to the sea-color of the stare that flicked over her features and then chanced a glance down at the low dip in the front of her romper. The man had no shame that he was checking her out, but she didn’t really mind all that much, either.
He wasn’t hard on the eyes.
It didn’t hurt to look at him.
Not at all.
And since he seemed content to drink in a good gulp of her, she did the same for him. Standing at least six and a half feet tall behind the bar, he towered higher than even the shelves of liquor behind him. Strong lines made up a face that didn’t have
a hint of boyishness anywhere—not in the scruff that dotted a jaw and cheeks carved from stone. He was all man, all over. A thick brow quirked up when her stare slammed back into his, and a sexy grin stretched his thin lips wide to show off the white teeth that made up his smile.
And God.
What a fucking smile it was.
“Well, have they?” he asked.
Gigi had enough sense to swallow before she spoke, lest her next words come out in a girlish rush of hormones and stupidity. It wasn’t often a man could make her tongue-tied, and certainly not by only his approach.
But here she was.
Suddenly, this celebration was looking way better.
“It’s not the first time I’ve heard that line, actually,” she replied.
A laugh burst from his mouth, and yes, she somehow managed to feel that sound all over her body. The noise of the bar began to disappear all around her as the good-looking bartender with a body that looked more suitable to be in the ring than behind the bar leaned in. Edging a bit closer to her, he used his free hand to toss a yellow-checkered bar rag over his broad shoulder.
The action had her swallowing.
Again.
Because she’d noticed his fingers. Their length, the roughness of the digits like he used them a lot, and then their proximity to her when he dared to point one at her.
“But the better question,” he said, “is whether you’ve ever actually been on a magazine, hmm? Something familiar about that face.”
“Really? Because everyone likes to say they’ve never seen one like it.”
Those blue eyes of his blinked.
Then, he smirked.
“Maybe that’s it—never seen anything like it.”
It also wasn’t the first time she had been told that line, either. Except there was something about the way he said it and how his tone dipped at the end. Like his gaze roving down her throat when his tongue peeked out to lick along the seam of his bottom lip.
“Hey, are you gonna get us a fucking drink or—”
The bartender held up one large hand to the left, his palm stopping all of two inches away from the face of a beefy guy leaning across the bar top. “I’m only mixing for front tables tonight—fuck off to the other side of the bar before I move you there.”
Gigi grinned.
He hadn’t taken his eyes off her.
“I’m Gigi,” she said.
He opened his mouth to reply, but the announcer standing at the DJ’s booth just a few feet away from the boxing ring stopped him from saying anything at all when the man’s voice filled the speaker. His attention drifted to the man as he straightened up to his full height, allowing him to easily stare over the crowd of people.
“Next fight—Lev Arsov versus Draven Kinley. Ten minutes to start—one ten-minute round. Betting begins now.”
His gaze came back to her, sharper and sexier than ever. This time, that grin of his was a little more sinful and tempting.
But also dangerous.
“Looks like I’m up next.”
Gigi’s head snapped to the side, and she was sure her face reflected the shock radiating through her gut in that moment. He was just a bartender, right? “What?”
He winked. “Lev Arsov—that’s me. Stick around, Gigi. See what happens next.”
PREORDER YOUR COPY OF PINK NOW!
by Bethany-Kris
Publication Date: May 8, 2020
Genres: Adult, Mafia, Organized Crime. Erotic Romance, Standalone
He’s Pink, the personal enforcer for the boss of the New York mafia. She’s Gigi Rey, a supermodel known across the globe.
They live two entirely different lives but before the mob and the fame, they were Lev Arsov and Gigi Parker. Two people struggling to make it—who met by chance—before life got in the way.
Five years have passed since the nights they shared together, but Fashion Week brings Gigi back to New York and straight into Lev’s path once more, when her work obligations tangles with the mafia’s business. In this world, that’s never a good thing.
They aren’t the same people now. He’s a single dad doing whatever he can for his daughter. Gigi can’t walk down the street without the world watching. A lot has changed. The one thing that didn’t? How they keep finding their way into each other’s heads … and beds.
If only it was that simple.
If only the tabloids didn’t back them into a wall.
If only they saw it coming.
If only they could go back to the time before he was … Pink.
If only.
*
Pink is a 112k standalone Mafia Romance set in Bethany-Kris’s Commission World.
ABOUT BETHANY-KRIS
Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to four young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.
To keep up-to-date with new releases from Bethany-Kris, sign up to her New Release Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bf9lzD
Born and raised in Texas, Ward is a mixed bag of creativity spinning tales of paranormal, urban fantasy and even dark romance and horror; wrapped within a love story. She’s been dared to write a few contemporary romances but even those reads have characters that are real and twisted by their creator.
Mother of three diverse and independent bold children, Ward prides herself for being the “Queen Niche’ Bitch” which is a handy way of saying she sucks writing to market.
But her readers don’t seem to mind.
