by E. M. Gayle
Her head jerked. "What? Why?"
"They suspect my international trips are a front for a smuggling operation and that my business manager might be involved. Of course, they're questioning whether I could be involved too."
"I don't understand. How is your business manager smuggling drugs? Is this one of those things where he sticks them—uhh—in his body?"
I didn't want to laugh, but I couldn't hold it completely in. The way her mind worked fascinated me.
"Not drugs, Zia. Diamonds."
That information completely transformed the look on her face. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. "That's a real thing? I thought precious gems were legally imported all the time."
"Not blood diamonds. Those are highly illegal and they fund a lot of bad organizations. And private jets like mine, that make it easily through customs, are the perfect vehicle for that kind of thing."
"Do you think it's true? That your manager is capable of that kind of subterfuge?"
I shrugged. "Possibly. I have noticed some inconsistencies in his behavior lately. Although the truth doesn't matter nearly as much as perception when it comes to something like this. A sex scandal I could weather with ease. Being painted as a terrorist is a narrative that even the best publicist money can buy can't overcome. It's a nightmare."
"What are you going to do?"
"I came here expecting to find Brian so I could confront the son of a bitch. If he's actually risking my career, then I've got to get him far away from me as soon as possible."
"Hence the tearing up the suite when you didn't find him."
"Yeah." My anger needed an outlet and if I couldn't take it out on Brian it had to go somewhere.
"Between the two of us we've managed to create quite a mess. We should probably take that as a sign."
Oh fuck no. She wasn't going to use this as an excuse. "It's not a sign of anything. Other than it's time to do something about the people who don't belong in our lives. And that doesn't mean each other."
She shook her head taking a few steps back. "I'm not naive, Vincent. But even I can see that we're both in over our heads. We're both under too much pressure."
"Did something happen today? Is this about your research on me? Honey, no one is going to turn out lily white if you dig deep enough. Everyone has secrets."
She didn't immediately respond and I felt that silence and what it meant more brutally than a punch to the face.
"It's not that," she finally started, but it was too late. I didn't want to hear it. I'd heard enough bullshit today.
I stalked forward and grabbed her arm and flipped her around and began force marching her toward the door. If she didn't want to be here then she didn't need to be here.
I was still too angry to deal with this shit.
"What are you doing?" She panted, her body twisting and turning as she tried to break my hold. I heard the unexpected excitement in that breathless question, but I couldn't focus on it. She was already halfway out the door whether she realized it or not and I didn't want to go through that again.
"Kicking you out of my suite. I've had enough for one day and I don't need your distrust as the cherry topping on my shit show of a day. Considering your line of work, you have got to know that most of what you read on the internet is a bunch of bullshit. So, just go home or go back to work or whatever the hell it is you really want to do. I'm. Fucking. Done."
Chapter Nineteen
ZIA
Fear pulsed through me as I took in the rage seething from Vincent. It throbbed in my veins as his tight grip on my arm pushed me away from him.
"Vincent, please." I wasn't sure of what I was asking for with my plea, but I had a feeling it wasn't to be thrown from his room.
With every rumble of anger that he flung in my direction an even more powerful pulse of heat throbbed between my legs.
I'd gone from nervous to aroused in two point five seconds. And at the moment I refused to acknowledge how twisted that actually was.
"What, Zia. What do you want from me? I've done everything within my power to show you that I am not the villain you think I am and nothing penetrates."
"Yes, it does." My legs were trembling and my panties were wet, something I didn't think he knew—yet.
"Explain then. Why the constant back and forth with you? I may not be an easy man, but I know what I want and what I'm willing to do to get it. Can you say the same?"
How could I explain it to him when I could barely comprehend it myself? I only knew I had to try. This was my crossroads and I could either walk out that door and try not to look back or fight the current that surrounded him—and me.
"I'm at war. Don't you get that? That constant back and forth is me fighting between what my head tells me I should do and what the rest of me begs for."
The expression on his face changed and for a moment I might have said it softened. But that wasn't it at all. The slash of his mouth looked harder and the color of his eyes darker.
"You need my guidance. And my control. But you're afraid of it too."
It was a simple statement, but he might as well have dropped a bomb. My muscles clenched and a sound akin to a moan rumbled through my chest.
"Don't say that."
"It's true. If you can't admit it then you might as well walk out that door."
"You are a risk." One I truly couldn't afford. Why couldn't he see that as well as he saw everything else?
"Life in general is a risk. You're just making excuses. You're afraid, but you need to make peace with that fear. It's what keeps us alive. We'd be boring without it. It's also the likely source of the panic attacks you have."
I shook my head, trying to deny what he said. But the shock of longing ripping through my body made that impossible. They weren't excuses, they were facts. This man was dangerous in more ways than one.
My instincts were screaming that there was a lot more at stake here than my career.
Yet, I wanted him far more than I wanted to escape. He was right about one thing though. There were facets of him that scared the hell out of me.
If I lost my heart to him, he could and probably would crush it.
"You know I'm right. Those excuses you keep making are your natural defenses. Until you learn how to let them down at the right time, with the right person, your fear is going to eat you alive."
We'd almost made it to the door when I started to shake. Instead of grabbing the handle and opening it so he could throw me out like I expected, he pushed me against it and nuzzled the back of my neck.
All of the heat and energy radiating from his body to mine made my nerve endings tingle with need. He had so much tension in his body. What he'd been through today had scared him and this was his way of admitting it. And trashing the suite had been him trying and failing to release it.
Despite everything that should and did scare me about him, I melted. He needed me and I need to give him that. It was the most natural give and take I could imagine and this was my chance.
"Take me to bed, Vincent. Show me what you mean." They were bold words I never used, but I wanted to prove him wrong. I wasn't going to let fear hold me back this time.
His breathy groan into my neck nearly did me in. I held my breath—waiting until slowly he turned me in his arms and studied my face.
I expected questions, but he must have seen the answers he needed without the words as he silently led me to the master suite. Once there, I stepped ahead of him and began working the zipper down on my dress. He gently brushed my fingers away and slid it slowly down my back until it stopped just above my ass.
Vincent sucked in a breath and I froze. That little sound had so much meaning it threatened my sanity. The longing sizzled and cracked between us as we stood still like that for several long minutes. With my stomach trembling and the ache in my breasts almost unbearable, I whisked the dress from my body and allowed it to pool at my feet.
I reached for the clasp of my bra and suddenly he was against
me with his hand wrapped around my wrist in a firm hold.
"Don't," he warned.
A smile that he couldn't see curved my lips as a whisp of defiance swept through me and I twisted to face him while freeing my bra before he could stop me.
"Goddamnit, Zia."
I pulled the straps free and dropped the bra to join my dress on the floor. He swallowed hard as his gaze traveled down my body and back up again, a harder set to his jaw firmly in place and his fists clenched at his side. Not to mention the hunger in his eyes that guaranteed I was wet for him.
"Are you sure? This won't be soft or easy. I'm just not capable—"
"Please, Vincent." I pressed a hand to my trembling stomach before I slid it down and into my panties, until I settled my fingertips on top of my clit and rubbed in soft, slow circles. "I need you, too."
He watched, his body frozen as I dipped into the gathering moisture feeling more powerful than I'd ever felt before. My doubts and fears weren't gone, but they were receding by the second.
"Jesus, woman." He grabbed my hand and pulled my fingers free. "I'm not sure you understand what you are asking for, but you'd damn well better be prepared to use your safe word if you need it. Is that understood?"
I nodded and he shook his head.
"Fucking say it," he growled.
"I promise. I'll use my safe word if it's too much, but it won't—"
He swooped in and cut me off by slamming his lips against mine, immediately pushing his tongue into my mouth. I greedily accepted everything he gave and gave it back twice as good. When he broke the kiss and pushed my fingers into his mouth and licked them clean, I let loose with a low moan. That had to be about the hottest thing I'd ever seen him do.
He lifted me and carried me to the bed, wasting no time removing my panties before spreading my legs wide.
"This fucking pussy is mine. All mine. To do whatever I want with it. Touch it, eat it, fuck it. Whatever the hell I want." The intensity of his nearly black eyes devouring me as he spoke slayed me. I didn't know if he expected a response, but I was willing to give it no matter what.
"Yes." I gasped.
A wicked smile crossed his face as he hooked his arms under my thighs and lifted them over his shoulders, while at the same time grabbing both wrists and pinning them to the bed under my legs. In this position he had complete control and I could only wait. As his head lowered, my breath caught, waiting for that first touch of his mouth.
"Vincent."
Instead of answering, his head sunk further until his lips met slick flesh. His tongue lashed across my clit and I was lost on a soft groan. Hot, searing sensations shot through me, leaving me gasping for air. The barrage of images that flew through my mind didn't help. Instead of just feeling his short whiskers on his chin rubbing against tender skin, I imagined the color contrast of his black hair against my olive skin with every plunge of his tongue. The nips of his teeth sank into me as he feasted like a starved man unable to sate his hunger.
God. I was going out of my mind.
I got so lost in my crazy thoughts, my first orgasm slammed into me without the realization that it was coming.
"Oh my fucking—"
He growled and sucked harder, sending me soaring to even greater heights. By the time I came down, I could feel more tension coiling behind my clit.
"Again," he commanded, flicking incessantly against that bundle of nerves. I didn't think I could, but he had proven me wrong before and I knew he would again. This man and his commands aroused me in ways I'd never thought possible. And so fast.
My head thrashed from side to side as the unrelenting flicks of his tongue drove me straight to the edge. “I can’t, Vincent!”
“You can,” he growled.
I fought against his hold, desperate to move, to grab on for dear life—anything. But Vincent allowed none of that. I was powerless to do anything but feel. Every sensation intensified until I didn’t think it would end. I was hovering and somehow he kept me there waiting.
“Vincent!” I screamed again, the sound so loud and guttural this time I didn’t recognize my own voice.
“Yes, do it. Come. I need more.”
My body jerked as a fresh wave of pleasure slammed into me. So intense my muscles cramped as I finally lost complete and total control as he forced another devastating orgasm from me. My heart both stopped and started again, beating harder than ever again. This man owned me. There was no way I could resist his commands ever again.
With ecstasy ripping me apart, I barely noticed I’d been released until Vincent hovered over me his dick sliding inside me. Oh my God… my nerve endings were on fire. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tight as I clawed at his back while he pumped ruthlessly inside me.
“God, you are so damned perfect. All tight and wet.” His words were as choppy as my breath. “I’m never giving you up. I can’t.”
Something inside me broke at his words and the emotions poured out. I couldn’t stop them. He’d made me feel so far beyond my comprehension. It was if my heart was now reaching out for him.
When his shuddering release broke over him and he planted inside me, I knew the truth. I had fallen and fallen hard.
I also knew that nothing was ever going to be the same.
Chapter Twenty
ZIA
The bed shifted under me and I groaned at the movement. Every muscle in my body ached. Who the hell needed a gym when you had someone like Vincent in your life?
Fuck. His stamina alone was enough to wipe me out.
"How are you moving right now?"
He laughed, that dark rumbly sound that shot a tingle straight down my spine. "Elite athlete, remember? Spending hours in the gym every day is all about endurance building."
Vincent placed a large charcuterie board in the middle of the bed and popped one of the strawberries into his mouth. There was an elaborate assortment of fruits, nuts, meat and cheese to choose from. My stomach growled in response.
"Did you make this?"
He snorted. "No. Room service. One of the many perks of staying at The Sinclair as I prepare for this fight."
"Couldn't you just hire people to do the same thing at home? Why stay here if you don't have to?" I grabbed a handful of cashews and began munching.
"I could, but I'm not comfortable with too many people in my private space. It puts me on edge and isn't as conducive to the focus I need when prepping for a fight."
I contemplated his answer as we both nibbled on the food.
"Plus, you're here. With you, proximity is half the battle."
"Is that what I am to you? A battle?" I wasn't really as offended as I sounded, but needling him about it sounded like fun.
"Everything is a fight metaphor to me. That's been my whole life for almost as long as I can remember. Day in and day out. I don't like to take a single day off."
"I don't know how you do it. I'm lucky if I can survive thirty minutes on the treadmill a few times a week."
"That's only because of the work hours you keep. We aren't that different in that respect. I just happen to spend most of it in a gym."
"Most of it? What do you do when you aren't in the gym?
"I have several other business interests these days that I keep track of. As soon as I hit thirty, I knew it was time to diversify. I now own the gym I grew up in and a couple of years ago began the steps to franchise it. There are now several locations across the United States and one in Italy."
I don't know why, but I had the feeling he was downplaying his businesses. Maybe it was the size and location of his luxury home. Or the fact that he kept this insane suite at The Sinclair at the same time. He must have a substantial portfolio.
There was also the matter of our illustrious meeting. At a party hosted by Romeo Rossi. At first I didn't think twice about it. As a boxing celebrity, it would make sense for the mafia to take interest in him. Professional fighting was a popular red-blooded sport among Italian men. Hell, all men seemed interes
ted at one point or another.
But there were too many interesting threads in his life and a lot of unknown variables. Including that mess with his stepfather.
"How did you end up at the party that night?" I popped a grape into my mouth, trying to keep my cool over the fact I was probably treading into dangerous waters.
Silence descended and with every second that passed my stomach knotted tighter. He took so long to answer I almost thought he hadn't heard me.
"I get a lot of invitations. Not to sound too egotistical, but there are a lot of boxing fans worldwide. Having me at their parties is kind of a big deal."
I swatted at his arm and felt that familiar spark the minute my hand touched his warm, hard skin. Seriously, it was like his body had been carved from some magical element that transformed him into a perfect physical specimen that I apparently couldn't keep my hands off of.
"Keep touching me like that and it's going to be a very long time before we get out of this bed again." His growled statement pulsed through my body and made heat flare between my legs.
I still had so many questions, but so far he had a knack for deflecting with sex. Not that I was actually complaining about all the orgasms. The man was a demanding beast, but he made it more than worth it.
"Are you trying to distract me?" Not that he actually had to try. When he'd climbed out of bed he'd only grabbed a pair of shorts to cover up and I had all those acres of gorgeous skin to hold my attention.
"Does it matter?" he asked.
I tried to think on that and whether it did actually matter. There was a lot I didn't know about Vincent and thanks to Google, a lot I did and wished I didn’t. Yet, none of that had prevented me from falling deeper into whatever this was between us.
Even the thought that those pictures were still out there seemed less important. Well, not exactly, but kind of. He'd hired someone to look into the case and promised that he'd make sure this mess was taken care of. No one had ever made that kind of promise to me before. Not even my parents. My grandmother wanted to, but she had little control while I was little. My parents didn't have much time for a child, but they preferred that I spent my time in a fancy prep school in America instead of closer to my grandmother.