Bitter Queen: A Dark Mafia Romance (Advantage Play Book 4)

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Bitter Queen: A Dark Mafia Romance (Advantage Play Book 4) Page 9

by Kelsie Rae


  He opens his mouth wide then sucks on my tongue, pulling a whimper from me as a pressure begins to build in my core. Desperate, I search for the friction that will put me out of my misery while shoving aside my crippling fear.

  With open-mouthed kisses against my throat and jaw, his gritty voice only fans the flames as he murmurs against my heated skin. “Do you trust me, Q?”

  I gulp and close my eyes, lost in his touch. “Yes.”

  “Trust me to make you feel good?”

  Squirming beneath him with my leg still pressed between us, I breathe, “Yes.”

  He sucks the sensitive patch of skin beneath my ear. “Good girl.”

  I have no idea what I just agreed to, but I’m too lost in this moment to ask for clarification.

  With his hand pressed to my upper thigh, he slides down my body before hooking my leg on his shoulder and running his nose along the seam of my crotch.

  Oh. That’s what I agreed to. Umm….

  Breathing deep, he groans. “Shit, Blue. You smell incredible.”

  A blush spreads across my face as I bite my lip and peek down at him. Between my thighs. My thighs that are spread apart like a freaking buffet. His dark eyes meet mine before he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. But he doesn’t pull them down. No, he wants permission. Again. Because this isn’t about him. It’s about me. My heart pounds beneath my ribcage as I let my leg that was propped on his shoulder drop to the ground. With my soft nod, he tugs my shorts down my legs. Inch after inch. Until I’m left bare.

  Which is both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

  My anxiety spikes as I wait for the moment he’ll find more of the angry, red scars that dance along my inner thighs. Because this is the moment I’ve been dreading. The moment where I’ll find out if I’m still beautiful or if I’ll always be the broken girl who was abused.

  Flinging my shorts over his shoulder, he sprinkles open-mouthed kisses along my calves, inching up to my knees before reaching my inner thighs. Then he stops. Like a caress, I can feel him take in the evidence from my past. With my breath held hostage, I wait.

  Please don’t ruin this moment, I silently beg. Please still want me.

  His muscles are rigid, and his eyes darken for a split second, transforming from warm milk chocolate to freaking obsidian.

  Shit.

  Still frozen, still holding my breath, and still waiting to see his next move, I study him carefully while trying to refrain from building the barrier around my heart any higher. But it’s hard to be vulnerable with someone. And I feel so damn vulnerable. Especially when the truth is so simple. The ball is a hundred percent in his court.

  Then he looks up at me again and holds my gaze while delivering a kiss to each and every one of my scars as if he could take away the pain that accompanied them. His tongue traces the last one before he finally reaches his destination. Separating my folds with his thumbs, he dives right in like a starving man. I arch my back and dig my fingers into his hair, holding him in place as I rub myself against his mouth while chanting obscenities under my breath. The crescendo builds until my incoherent mumbling turns into a loud moan that makes me blush. Sucking me into his mouth, he pushes me over the edge.

  My entire body is a trembling mess before my muscles melt into the blue mat beneath me. As I catch my breath, he crawls over me, then slips his tongue into my mouth and delivers a final, toe-curling kiss that leaves me panting for more.

  “D,” I whisper, reaching for the waistline of his basketball shorts. He gently pushes my hand away and presses another kiss to my sweaty forehead. This one is softer. Sweeter.

  “I think that’s enough for one day.”

  “But––”

  “Let’s get you showered. Then I’ll order some food, and we can watch another movie.”

  He pushes himself to his feet and gives me the perfect view of his very apparent, very hard erection through the thin material of his shorts. My eyes widen as I take in the massive size that could tear me in two.

  There’s no way that’s going to fit.

  With a smirk, he offers his hand to help me up and mutters, “It’s not polite to stare.”

  “I can help––”

  “I know you can. But today was about you. Come on.”

  As I lace my fingers through his, it finally hits me. Intimacy is more than sex and getting off. It doesn’t have to be selfish. It’s about the connection you build with someone. And I’m terrified with how quickly he’s managed to form one with me.

  15

  Diece

  With my arm around her shoulders, and our bellies full of Mexican food, I look down at an amused Q as she watches a Golden retriever devour a wedding cake on the screen.

  “Anne-Marie is gonna be pissed when she catches him,” Q announces when she feels me watching her.

  “Yeah. What’s she gonna take to the mayor’s wedding? If she shows up empty-handed, she’ll lose the big gala event and won’t have enough money to pay for her father’s surgery.”

  She grins up at me. “Exactly. Ya know, you’re kinda cute when you get invested in Hallmark movies.”

  “I don’t give a shit about the movie, Blue, but I do like to see you smile.”

  “That seems to be happening a lot when I’m around you.”

  Pulling her closer, I drag my finger along her bare arm. “We gonna talk about those cuts?”

  Like a clam, she closes up instantly and turns back to the movie on the screen, though I doubt she sees a damn thing.

  “Not much to talk about,” she deflects.

  “Bullshit. Did he give you those?”

  Scoffing, she counters, “You think someone else would?”

  “You want me to kill him for you?”

  Peeking up at me, she bites the inside of her cheek. “He’s gone, remember?”

  “I have my ways,” I explain vaguely. And I’d give anything to kill him myself for the shit he put her through.

  “I just want to forget all of it. Can you help me do that?”

  My phone buzzes in my pocket, interrupting our conversation as I pull it out. Recognizing the number, I grimace then unfold myself from the small couch. “I gotta take this.”

  “Okay.” She watches me for a second, then forces herself to turn back to the screen.

  Stepping out of the room, I linger in the doorway before sliding my thumb across the screen to answer the call. “Hello?”

  “Hey, D. It’s Lou. We have you on speakerphone,” Lou explains in a crisp, clear voice.

  “Hey, guys,” I return. “Who’s all there?”

  “Kingston, Stefan, Dex, and me,” Lou explains.

  “Okay. What’s up?”

  Clearing his throat, Kingston answers, “How’s Q?”

  I hesitate and glance back into the theater to find Q popping a kernel of popcorn into her mouth. “She’s uh…she’s fine.”

  “Has she mentioned anything about her past?” Kingston prods through the speaker.

  Rubbing my hand across my face, a little piece of me hates that I answered this call in the first place. Because when I’m with Q, I almost forget the clusterfuck going on at home, along with her part in it all. After clearing my throat, I mutter, “No. Why?”

  “Because we had a visitor asking about her,” Kingston divulges. “Do you think she’s capable of hiding something?”

  My jaw tightens until I’m pretty sure I cracked a molar while praying I heard him wrong.

  Who the hell would be looking for her? And why would she need to hide something?

  Glancing over at her again, my chest tightens before I rub my hand over my face and focus on the phone call. “I dunno, Kingston. I think she’s pretty messed up after everything that happened.”

  “I need you to bring her back here. We need to chat.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “And I don’t give a shit,” Kingston counters. “Someone contacted Dominic Castello and asked him to reach ou
t to Dex to see where the pretty blonde virgin ended up.”

  “Why the hell would someone be asking about Q?” I growl.

  “That’s what we want to know.”

  Searching through all the possibilities of who the hell would care about an innocent girl like Q, I ask, “Do you think the guy who contacted Dex might be…?”

  “Do I think he might be the same guy trying to screw over the Romanos?” Kingston finishes for me. “I don’t know. They might be related. They might not be.”

  “It’s possible,” another voice interjects. I think it belongs to Dex, my half-brother. “Dominic said the guy was willing to give me the Romano family as a gift for my loyalty. Sounded to me like he was willing to kill two birds with one stone, ya know what I mean?”

  Silence ensues before Kingston grits out, “D, do we know any enemies in The District? Lou tracked Dominic’s conversation with whoever his contact is. It led us there.”

  “But that’s Fed territory,” I argue.

  “It is…,” Kingston confirms.

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, a single name comes to mind. Jack. He’s the guy Ace introduced to us. He helped us frame Burlone the night of the tournament. It feels like a lifetime ago. But it doesn’t make any sense.

  “We only know one Fed,” I mutter.

  “Yeah,” Kingston breathes.

  “Why would Jack double-cross us?” I ask. “Why would he be looking for Q in the first place?”

  “I don’t know,” Kingston answers, his voice crackling through my cell. “But I also don’t know who else would be interested in the Romanos or any of the girls who were initially taken by Burlone who happen to work in The District. Do you?”

  “Shit,” I curse under my breath.

  “Who’s Jack?” Dex interrupts. He was still Burlone’s man when we met the Fed. It makes sense that he hasn’t been caught up yet.

  Kingston explains, “Jack is the Fed who gave us the fabricated documents that framed Burlone as a snitch. He’s also the guy you contacted with the location of Burlone’s body.”

  “So, he double-crossed us?” Dex asks.

  “Either that or he works with someone who is double-crossing him,” Stefan chimes in with his two cents.

  “Regardless,” Kingston states, “I think it’s time we bring him in for a little chat.”

  “And if he doesn’t feel like talking?” Dex argues.

  I can almost see Kingston’s arrogant smirk that I have no doubt is stretched across his face. I chuckle darkly before Kingston divulges, “That won’t be a problem. Bring him in, Dex. Lou will get you his address. And, D?”

  “Yeah?” I answer.

  “I wasn’t kidding about having a little chat with Q too. Understand?”

  Rocking back on my heels, I check on Q again, but she’s too immersed in the movie to sense my wariness. I’m grateful for it. Because she’s about to get thrown back into our shitty reality. And it won’t be pretty.

  Resigned, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

  16

  Q

  “You okay?” Diece asks beside me before reaching over and squeezing my thigh.

  We’ve been on the road for hours, but it’s done nothing to relieve the pressure in my chest.

  With my gaze transfixed on the passing landscape of greens and blues, I continue chewing on my thumbnail.

  “Blue?” D prods.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Liar,” he jests. “What’s wrong?”

  Resting my head against the cool glass of the passenger window, I admit the truth that’s been weighing on me since last night. “I don’t want to go back.”

  “To Kingston’s estate?”

  “To reality in general.”

  “Why?”

  “Because reality sucks. I liked getting lost in my own little world with you.”

  “So did I.” He squeezes my knee one more time before returning his hand to the steering wheel. “Can I ask you something?”

  “What?”

  “Someone has been asking about you….” His voice trails off, but I’m able to fill in the blank just fine.

  A flock of rabid bats claws at my insides, but I keep my chin high and my voice clear as I ask, “Oh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who?”

  “We’re not sure,” he returns vaguely. “But we think they’re connected with the FBI.”

  What?

  My jaw drops. “I’m not a Fed, D. I swear on my life, I’m not—”

  “I know,” he interrupts before glancing over at me. And even though his dark eyes are covered with sunglasses, I can still feel the sincerity in his gaze before he reiterates, “I know you’re not working with the Feds. But do you know anyone who would be looking for you?”

  “No one’s looking for me,” I repeat, twisting my hands in my lap like a dirty dishrag. “We’ve had this conversation before. I don’t know anything. I swear it.”

  His attention drops down to my fidgeting hands, but he doesn’t comment on them.

  “Okay, Q. I trust you.”

  I swallow thickly, then rest my head against the passenger window as my guilt joins the nasty bats of anxiety that are still very present inside my stomach. The silence in the cab of the car is only broken by the occasional rev of the engine, but I don’t bother to change it. I don’t know what else to say, and sometimes it’s best to keep your mouth shut, anyway. Besides, when you’re locked in a room for weeks, with the devil as your only visitor, you begin to embrace the silence. But today feels different. And I hate it.

  “We’re here,” he announces a little while later as we turn down a long, winding driveway.

  I’ve only been here once before. It was the night Dex drove Regina and me here after the tournament. After I corroborated their lie. After I put a target on my back. One that was even bigger than before.

  It feels like a lifetime ago.

  “Come on,” Diece urges once the ignition is off.

  With his hand on my lower back, he guides me toward the entrance. As he opens the front door, a woman’s scream echoes throughout the main floor and completely takes me off guard. Crippled by the sound, my knees buckle, and I cover my ears as the memories hit me at full force.

  “Stop! Please! Don’t touch me! Please don’t do this!”

  “Shit,” Diece mumbles under his breath, barely catching me before my knees hit the ground. His grasp is firm around my waist before he sticks his arm beneath my thighs then carries me to the second floor, taking the stairs two at a time.

  But the screams don’t stop. No. They never stop. The door slams hard against the wall as he shoves it open before stalking toward the bed.

  With me in his lap, he rocks me back and forth.

  Back and forth.

  Desperate to bring me back to the present.

  “Shhh,” he coos. “Shhh, it’s okay.”

  “Six,” I beg. “Six.”

  “I can’t, baby. I can’t make it stop.”

  “Please? Please make it go away.”

  Laying me on the mattress, he cups my cheeks and forces me to look at him. The warmth in his gaze slowly makes my demons retreat back into their cages as he grits out, “I’m right here, Q. I’m right here.”

  I wipe beneath my nose with the back of my hand. “I can still hear their cries.”

  “Stay with me. Don’t let those memories lock you in your past. Please.”

  “I don’t know how to stop them. I can still feel my voice turning raw from my own screams as he held me down. I can still see him. Taste him,” I choke out.

  He slams his hand against the headboard then presses his forehead to mine, though his jaw stays tight. He’s close to losing his shit the same way I’ve lost mine.

  “You’re safe now. You’re safe here,” he promises, focusing on the present the way I should be, but I can’t.

  Because there’s just one problem.

  “If someone is so safe under this roof,
then what’s going on downstairs?” I demand. The tears stream freely down my cheeks as I take in his helpless expression while the wails…the wails keep up their assault.

  Brows pinched, he admits, “I don’t know, yet. I gotta go figure out what the hell is happening. Can you stay here?”

  Grappling with his shirt, I hold him in place, “Please. Please don’t leave.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Blue. I just gotta check on a few things. You’re safe here. I promise. If I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight.”

  “I trust you, but I don’t trust anyone else in this house.”

  “If you trust me, then you know I’d never let anything happen to you.”

  His eyes shine with determination and honesty. The combination hits way too close to the chest. And even though I hate how vulnerable I sound, I whisper, “Promise?”

  “I promise, Blue.” With a slow kiss to my forehead, he slips out of my grasp then strides to the door, leaving it open a small crack before disappearing from view.

  Then I’m back to the silence.

  And I’m not finding comfort in it this time.

  17

  Diece

  The main floor is silent. Scanning the empty kitchen, my black shoes scuff against the floors before I stalk toward Kingston’s office in search of answers. As I raise my fist to pound on the door, it creaks open then Ace appears with red-rimmed eyes.

  “What’s going on?” I demand.

  She shakes her head but doesn’t bother to explain as she slips past me. Attempting to rein in my frustration, I push the door the rest of the way open and find Kingston rubbing his hand against his face.

  His troubled gaze snaps to mine. “Get in here.”

  Closing the door behind me, I take a seat across from him, then rest my elbows against my knees and wait.

  With a sigh, Kingston starts, “When did you get here?”

  “About the time all hell broke loose. What the hell is going on?”

  “Dex. He’s been messing around with Regina behind my back.”

 

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