And the truth is, nobody has excited me enough to want to have sex. I know that might sound pathetic to some, but I wasn’t about to give up the goods just to scratch an itch. My pink rabbit vibrator took care of that itch just fine, thank you very much.
I wasn’t holding out for Mr. Right either. I just wanted someone who lit up my body with one look, one touch. I wanted someone who could kiss me stupid. I wanted someone who would know what the hell they were doing! I was not going to settle for someone who was going to fumble around blindly with no freaking clue what a g-spot was.
Fellas, do us all a favor and google that shit. I’ve heard some horror stories from some of my other female friends about the one-night stands they took home. I just can’t bring myself to have that memory for my first time, even though it’s like some unspoken tradition that your first time is mostly fumbling around.
But this man, this man with my hand gripped securely in his, leading us away from the dance floor and over to a flight of stairs, this man whose name I still don’t know is coming dangerously close to ticking off all my boxes.
Has my body reacting with one simple touch: check.
One look: check.
My eyes rake down the curve of his back to his ass and I have to hold back a groan when images of my nails digging into that ass while he pounds into me threaten to reduce me to a quivering mess.
“Like what you see?”
That groan slips past my lips when I lift my gaze and realize that he just caught me blatantly checking out his backside.
Heat creeps up my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” I look away, embarrassed.
He unlocks an office door, motioning for me to go in first before he follows and closes the door behind us.
The owner obviously has very specific decorating tastes. The walls and floor match that of those downstairs, a big desk sits menacingly on the far side of the room, matching red curtains from the VIP rooms below hang in front of the two windows overlooking the rest of the club. It looks like something out of a Dracula movie.
“No need to be sorry,” he whispers against my nape causing me to shiver from his closeness.
It’s the second time he’s managed to creep up behind me without a sound. Granted the music in the club is loud enough to drown out his footsteps, but up here it’s virtually silent. Talk about soundproofing.
His one hand is back to curling around my hip while the other explores the curve of my spine before coming to rest against the opposite hip. Fingers curl into the fabric of my dress, pulling me flush against him, until there’s nothing between us save for our clothes.
“I thought you wanted to get a refill of your drink?” I try, unsuccessfully, to mask the slight pant in my voice. Despite the clothes separating our bodies, I can still feel every hard inch of his chest, and when he subtly thrusts his hips forward, I can feel every hard inch of him there, too. Every. Hard. Inch.
“I’m working on it, Mia Bella, but it’s not alcohol I’m after.” He runs his nose down my neck, and nips at the curve where my neck meets my shoulder.
“It’s… It’s not?”
“No.”
“Then what are you after?”
The pads of his fingers dig further into my hips. I think I may have bruises tomorrow, but I could care less in this moment.
“You. This pussy.”
It’s just one word, but I felt the need, the desire behind it wash over me. My eyelids droop, my head tipping back to lean into his shoulder. His hands slid from their grip on my hips, one grazing up my ribs to cup my breast, the other sliding down over my belly to between my thighs.
“I-I don’t even know your name.”
He chuckles, his knee nudging my legs apart. “Don’t worry, you’ll be screaming it soon.” He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing me to look over my shoulder at him, then his lips crash down on mine.
There was nothing sweet about our first kiss. It was raw, hungry, bruising, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. The kiss was a lot like the man behind it. It was a means to an end. The start of something explosive, only meant to be temporary but the effects lasting long after.
I knew this was only going to be a one-night stand. I wasn’t expecting any grand gesture of love after only one night of meeting, but somewhere, somehow, I knew that after tonight I would leave here craving more of him. A more that I knew he never would be able to give. This man oozed wealth and power, and there was a darkness surrounding him that I assumed he wore as a cloak. He hid behind it. It warned people away from him. Why? I wasn’t sure, and I was never going to find out.
His tongue found mine, curling around it and sucking it into his mouth. I moan, reaching back and winding my hand around his nape, holding him in place and praying that he never stopped what he was doing. He nips my bottom lip, my mouth following his when he leans back.
“I don’t do sweet and gentle, Mia Bella. Need to know if this is what you want. Need to be balls deep inside you, feel you tight around me.”
I swallow hard, heat creeping back up my cheeks. I was hoping we would be further along before I had to tell him I’ve never done this before. Warm hands grip my hips, spinning me to face him. He uses his big body to back me further into the room until my ass hits the cold of the desk.
“Don’t read minds, Mia Bella. Need to hear the words.” His nose is back to doing that thing along my neck, like he’s trying to ingrain the way I smell into his memory.
The palms of his hands now resting on the globes of my ass, and every inch of his front is pressed into mine. The length of his hard cock pressed against my stomach, I can feel it twitch, and I’d be damned if that didn’t make my core clench tighter. Wetness pooled in my barely-there panties.
“I, um, I’ve never—”
I don’t get very far with my explanation when the door suddenly flies open. A giant of a man silhouetted by the lights of the club downstairs stands in the doorway.
“Boss, we have a problem,” the giant says in a fading accent.
“Dammit, Alessandro, can’t you see I’m a little busy?” He barks at the intruder, but doesn’t stop his active perusal of my body. A tongue licks up my collarbone just as his hands lift me under my backside and sit me down on the edge of the desk, his big body following and situating himself exactly where both of us need him to be.
“It can’t wait, Boss.”
“Fuck,” he roars, leaning his forehead down to rest between the tops of my breasts, his breath sending more shivers down my body. After a few beats, his dark eyes slide up to capture my pale blues, longing and desire behind his. “Sorry, babe, but business is business.”
He takes my hand, helping me readjust my dress, although his hands linger a little too long under the curve of my ass, before walking me back downstairs. When we reach the bottom step he stops suddenly, catching me off guard, and then pulls me into him. His hands on either side of my neck. It’s the second time he’s kissed me like this, and I wish it wasn’t the last. My fingers curl into the front of his dress shirt as I hold him to me and try to deepen the kiss.
“De Luca,” he says against my lips.
“Hm?”
“My name, Mia Bella. Braxton De Luca.” His lips press against mine again, but for a peck this time, before he pulls away and turns to go out a set of steel doors I hadn’t noticed until now.
“Braxton.” I try out his name on my swollen lips. Unsurprisingly liking the way it feels on my tongue.
Kiss me stupid: check.
“PLEASE, MR. DE Luca,” the man sitting on the other side of my desk pleads. His suit is wrinkled, dark circles outline his eyes which I’m assuming is from the stress and lack of sleep plaguing him since finding out at the bank is repossessing his house the same week as finding out his youngest daughter has cancer.
My eyes quickly scan the paperwork in front of me. There is no doubt that the money he’s asking me to lend him would go a long way in providing for his family while covering all
of his daughter’s medical bills and preventing the bank from repossessing the moderate house on the outskirts of the city. There is also very little doubt that if I agree to help him out, he will not be able to pay back his debt in the required time frame.
I raise my gaze from the papers sprawled in front of me and meet his at the same time Gio pushes open the door to the office and silently makes his way to stand behind the man.
“Mr. Michaels - ”
“Mr De Luca,” he interrupts, his shoulders hunching forward making me look like he’s folding in on himself. “I’ll do whatever I have to to pay it all back. And if I can’t…” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “Well, if I can’t then…then you can kill me. It’ll be worth it, knowing my daughter got the treatment she deserves.”
I look over my right shoulder at Alessandro and he gives me a clipped nod. When I look back to Gio, he nods too.
“Okay, Mr. Michaels, I’ll loan you the money you need.” Leaning my elbows on the desk, I fold one hand over the other and lean forward, making sure I have his full attention before I continue. “But you won’t be paying with your life. Well, not in the way you think. If you cannot pay back the loan, which I suspect will be the case, then you will be become an associate for the famiglia.”
“What…” he swallows hard. “What does that mean.”
“It means if the Mafia needs you to do something, you do it. No questions asked,” Alessandro says.
Michaels looks from me to Alessandro and back to me. “But my daughter will get the treatment she needs?”
“She will.”
He doesn’t seem to think very long about it before sitting up straighter, wiping his palms down his suit pants before nodding. “Deal.”
I sign the papers authorizing the bank to transfer the exact amount into his bank account then push away from the desk, rebuttoning my suit jacket when I stand. Michaels shakes hands with me before Gio is escorting him out of the office, before they cross over the threshold, I stop him.
“Mr. Michaels, if you run I will find you, and you don’t want me to come after you. Understand?”
His Adam’s apple bobs and he looks like he wants to say something but thinks better of it, turning and allowing Gio to escort him from the building.
My computer pings with an incoming email. I’m a little surprised when I retake my seat behind my desk and open it, revealing the information I requested just this morning. All thoughts of Judge Michaels vanish and I immediately start coming up with a plan on how I can run into her again.
***
(Klara)
“Where did you disappear to last night?” Adrienne questions when I sidle up next to her at the breakfast bar the next morning.
After Braxton left me at the bottom of the stairs last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened in that office. I knew Dri would be fine at the club without me after I had spotted two of our other friends and Matt with her on the dance floor, so I made a beeline for the front door and called a cab.
No sooner had I closed the front door and kicked off my shoes was my rabbit vibrator being pulled out of its storage spot in the top drawer of my dresser. Let’s just say that it got quite the workout last night. Even still, it didn’t help ease the ache that now existed between my legs. I knew nothing would, except for Braxton De Luca.
“Decided to call it an early night when the alcohol started mixing with the cold meds. Wasn’t keen on ending up face down in a dark corner somewhere.” I was only half lying. I knew if the night had continued the way it was then I would’ve ended up face down… just face down with Braxton’s hard cock pounding into me from behind.
Aaand that’s enough of that train of thought.
I don’t know why I lied to my best friend. If anyone knows about one-night stands it would be her. Or um, almost one-night stand? But how would I even begin to explain to her what happened? Some tall, dark, and sexy-as-sin man came up to me on the dance floor, started putting his hands on me, and asked if I wanted a refill. When I said no he gripped my hand and led me away to a dark office upstairs where he kissed me silly, and if we hadn’t been rudely interrupted I would’ve given him my virginity against that sleek, black desk. Oh, and let’s not forget that through all of this I didn’t known his name. No, that piece of information was reserved for after he dropped me back off downstairs.
I inwardly groan, resting my head against the hand propped up on the breakfast bar. The aroma of fresh coffee and sizzling bacon permeating the air around me. Dri slides off her stool when the coffeemaker chimes signalling it’s ready. Her white tank top riding up her toned stomach when she reaches above her to pull down two mugs for us.
I was slightly envious of my best friend. She had the type of body men drooled over. She was slim and toned, her boobs weren’t too big, and her ass wasn’t huge. Her skin was flawless, her hair a natural mahogany brown. Everything about her was just effortless. She didn’t have to spend countless hours working out at the gym, or watching what she ate. She looked freaking gorgeous with her hair thrown into a high ponytail, workout leggings and a tank top—sans bra.
My eyes drop to my own triple d’s and I sigh, taking in the bra I threw on before walking out of my bedroom this morning. I know I could’ve just left it off, after all, it was just Dri in the apartment, but there was always a part of me that was… not scared, but wary? Of going without one. Compared to Adrienne I was a bit on the bigger side. I wasn’t overweight, actually far from it. But I had curves, very noticeable curves. It took me a helluva long time to come to terms with the fact that no matter how much I worked out or starved myself in the past, there was no changing my body shape. So, instead of trying to cover it with baggy clothes, I figured out how to start loving the way I look. I’m finally starting to get to the point where I can wear the dresses I want, and wear them with confidence. Plus, the way Braxton couldn’t keep his hands off me last night proved that I looked hella good in the red dress, too.
Once we’re done eating I help Dri load the dishwasher and clean the kitchen while she tells me about her plans for the weekend. I know I should be paying attention, but my mind’s elsewhere. Disappointment pangs behind my chest when I realize I may never find out what would’ve happened if we hadn’t been rudely interrupted in that office, but more than that, I realize I’m disappointed I may never get to see Braxton De Luca again.
***
After Adrienne left to take care of her errands I decide that I’m not going to sit around the apartment wondering about what if’s. Stuffing my laptop and textbooks into my oversized purse I resolve to take advantage of the crisp, early spring air and walk to the café down the street from our apartment. I loved the big city. Where some people love how small they feel standing on a beach at the edge of an ocean, the city is like my ocean. I love that I can get lost easily in the throne of people. I love the busyness, the fact that nobody knows anybody’s business. I love how small being in the heart of the city makes me feel.
“Good morning, Klara.” Jen, one of the baristas, greets me cheerily when I push through the door.
“Hey Jen,” I pause, dropping my bag at my favorite table on the side of windows racing parallel to the street, facing the door of the café. I like people watching whenever my brain gets too overloaded with information on my grad paper and I have to take a break. This is the perfect spot for me to indulge, while also indulging in my favorite coffee.
“Let me guess, white mocha americano misto?” Jen giggles when I make my way up to the counter.
I laugh. “I’m that predictable, huh?”
She shrugs, writing my name on the cardboard sleeve. “Hey, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, right?”
“Right.” I grin, and get a whiff of something that instantly makes my mouth water, giving me insight into who did the baking for the café that morning. “Your mom made double chocolate brownies?” I ask, bouncing on the balls of my feet like a giddy child.
“She did.” Jen laughs. “She also made sure
that I set one aside for you and put your name on it.”
Jen hands me the coffee mug as well as a paper bag and I’m pretty sure my morning couldn’t get any better, but I’m wrong because as soon as I turn around to go back to my table I lock eyes with a very familiar pair of dark ones. Ones that burned with heat as his fingers trailed up my thigh last night in the darkened room above the club.
Braxton De Luca stands before me with a casual hand in his dress pants and an easy smirk on his handsome face.
“It’s you.” My fingers tighten around the paper cup in fear that I may drop it and spill precious espresso goodness everywhere, but also because I’m trying my damn hardest not to drool.
The early morning sun illuminates him from behind, accentuating his tan skin and dark hair. I realize that this is the first time I’m really seeing him. I couldn’t get a good look with the low lights of the club, but here in this café, nothing is obstructing my view.
“It’s me.” He chuckles, dark midnight eyes taking me in from head to toe, lingering a little longer on my chest.
Ah, so he’s a boob man. That’s… good to know.
“Wh-What are you doing here?” I stammer.
“I was in the neighborhood and heard this place as the best coffee on the block.” He pauses, his smirk growing as he eyes me. “Care to join me for a coffee, Mia Bella?”
I hadn’t picked up on it last night because I was… well, distracted, but his voice has a slight Italian accent. Like maybe he was born there but immigrated when he was young. I make a mental note to ask him about it later. Assuming there is a later.
“I-I can’t. I have a paper to finish writing. I’m sorry.”
My heart and my brain are at war with each other. My heart telling me to shut up and take it back. Of course, we’d love to have coffee with you. My body agreeing. But my brain, the more responsible one out of the three, is kindly reminding me that I have less than three weeks to finish this paper before I have to present it and then graduation. After which I’d officially be a doctor… of psychology, but a doctor, nonetheless.
Dark Desire (Famiglia Book 1) Page 2