Dirty Secrets

by Landish, Lauren

  “Dominick,” she mimics, holding a straight face for as long as she can before pointing toward her living room. “We have a lot to talk about.”

  Most people wouldn’t dare speak to me in such a direct manner, not if they wanted to be sure of seeing next Christmas. But Allie’s different, and she knows without a doubt that she’s special to me now and that I’m likely going to let her have more leeway than most. I suspect she’ll push and press my every button just to explore the reactions. But then, I tend to do the same thing, so I can’t blame her for that.

  “I’m not going to apologize,” I tell her evenly. “I did what I did, and I’m willing to live with the consequences.”

  “Even if it means I don’t want to see you again?” Allie asks, and I hope she’s bluffing. “Face it, Dominick. We’re not talking a legal line, although I know those don’t mean anything to you and I’d never take that up anyway. But you crossed the lines of honor and respect, which I know you hold important.”

  I think about it, then nod. “I did. For that, you’re right. I apologize.”

  I wait patiently to see if she’ll give in, rewarded a moment later when she sighs and rolls her eyes.

  “Come in. Want a drink?”

  I follow her directive, sitting down on her plush couch. It’s a bright red velvet piece with high, rolled arms and button tufting. It’s bold and loud, especially with the mis-match of patterned pillows piled in the corners. It’s as much Allie as my cold, sleek office is me.

  “Do you have whiskey?”

  She shakes her head. “Nope. Red wine, beer, and water are all I’ve got. Take it or leave it.”

  Sassy . . . and still a little pissed, but the apology seems to have taken the edge off the confrontation. I’m still going to tread carefully, though, because I don’t want this to be my only visit to this particular domicile.

  “Water would be fine. Thank you.”

  She pulls a jug from the fridge and fills two short glasses, bringing them over to set them on the coffee table. She sits down beside me, and I’m suddenly thankful for the abundance of pillows because they force her closer to me.

  But she sits sideways, her legs crisscross folded between us, showing me a lot of very long and beautiful leg, but definitely not inviting.

  “So, that’s the polite hostess part. Let’s hear it, Dom. All the nitty-gritty, all the yelling, all the everything. Let’s get it out on the table.”

  My eyes narrow questioningly. “Have you ever heard me yell? At anyone, about anything?”

  She tilts her head, thinking back. “Actually no, that’s not your style. You’re more Disappointed Dad with hard looks and calculated punishments. It’s when you stop talking that you’re scariest. But I was expecting me to be the one yelling. You know, since I’m the wronged party here and all.”

  Her rapid-fire speech slows as she finishes her thought with a dose of sarcasm on her tongue, and I set my glass back down from where I’d picked it up.

  “You’re very observant. How closely have you been watching me, Allie?” I ask as dark heat unfurls in my gut, and I’m far more interested in her answer than I have been in anything in a long time, though I suspect she won’t let me get away with the stalling tactic for long.

  She bites her lip nervously, the unconsciously coquettish gesture sending a line of heat down through my gut. I feel my cock stir in my slacks. While it isn’t time for that yet, my cock seems to have a mind of its own. What it knows is that the woman who’s captured my imagination and my heart is sitting just eighteen inches away from me, her chest rising and falling quickly as her heart hammers within.

  “You know I have, Dominick. I’ve been watching you the same way you watch me.” I sincerely doubt that’s remotely true, which she concedes when a small smirk ghosts across my lips. “Okay, maybe not as closely as you, but still, I’ve been paying attention. But my watching isn’t why we’re here, is it?”

  She looks me dead in the eye, demanding, “Who’s following me, and more importantly, why?”

  I lift an eyebrow, sipping my drink. “Logan said you assured him that you already knew everything. Perhaps I should ask you what you know, and we can go from there?”

  It’s a bit like cat and mouse, not showing my whole hand but throwing out the challenge to see if she accepts. And then pulling her this way and that, subtly closer to my reach with every move so that I can snare her and hold her close.

  She growls, her voice hard, “What I know is that you have people following me. I know that you have an apartment by Encore. I know that you watch me sometimes and have security guys from work watch me too, usually Logan, but other people too. I know that I walked up to two big-ass motherfuckers thinking they were going to save me tonight, only to discover that they’re just my new neighbors. What else is there?”

  It’s obvious she suspects that there is more and has likely even been looking for other signs of my shadowy observations. I stay silent and she adds more.

  “A few times, I saw Logan down in the parking lot and waved, figuring he was seeing someone from the building. There’s a cute girl who lives up on seven that I could see as his type. I figured he’d wave back, but he didn’t, just kept his head buried in his phone.”

  A small giggle jiggles her chest, and I wonder what’s funny about Logan and his phone. “I thought, for a busy guy, he seemed to sulk around me silently a lot.”

  I remind myself to both thank Logan and to advise him to work on his tailing skills. He’s seen more of Allie than anyone else on my crew and more than once could have taken advantage. Thankfully, Logan is who he is and minds his business better than most lifelong men in my crew. It’s too bad he doesn’t want to be a permanent part of my team because he’d be an excellent asset, but I’ll utilize him while he’s available to me.

  More important than my thoughts of Logan are that Allie didn’t mention anything beyond the surveillance. She doesn’t know about the apartment upstairs. I war with myself about telling her, but in the end, I can’t imagine not being able to check in on her, so I stay mum about it for now, knowing it’ll rightly be another log on the fire if she ever finds out.

  “I’m impressed that you even caught what you did. It means you’re observant of your surroundings and staying safe. Good girl.”

  The compliment comes naturally, but she beams at the praise for a split-second, or maybe it’s the phrasing. I store that away in my mind for later and continue.

  “You sure you want to know everything? If I remember right, you were pretty freaked out by what you learned last time you got a glimpse behind my curtain.”

  It’s a polite way of reminding her just how ugly my world is. I’ve tried so damn hard to protect her from it, from me, but I just can’t stay away any longer, even as I give her one last out to stop this madness.

  “Tell me. I want to trust you. I know that’s insane because of your job, but you’ve never given me a real reason not to trust you. Unless you lie to me right now. I’m going to give you a chance because you’ve earned it with me.”

  I take a deep breath and lay it out. She doesn’t react when I confirm that I have a guy watch her at the studio and follow her to the club and home every day. However, when I tell her about the people watching her apartment, she colors.

  “Dominick, what if I’d had someone over?”

  “You always had freedom to choose your own . . . friends, even if I would not have approved,” I force myself to admit. “I would not have liked it.”

  The dangerous confession hangs between us, the possessive tone of my words unmistakable.

  “Tell me why. Why do you have your men following me? Why did Logan tell Max and Dalton that I’m yours? Like I belong to you,” Allie says, and I can hear it in her voice. She’s upset with me, but at the same time, she likes that I feel the way I do about her. She wants to be claimed, but only by someone who deserves it.

  I’m not an emotional man. I’m a cold bastard who typically sees every angle of the game boa
rd and can strategize my way out of something unpleasant or into something desirable at will. But I’m not sure how to answer Allie’s question without scaring the shit out of her.

  I think she expects it’ll be some light, superficial answer that she can romanticize, but this is not a fairy tale and I’m damn sure not some sweet prince.

  I’m the Bastard King.

  The honest truth is obsessive and possessive, even more than her own assumptions about the line she thinks I’ve crossed, and I know the edge I’m walking is fine.

  But the thrill of any degree of openness with her is tempting.

  “Both of those questions have the same answer,” I reply, reaching out and putting my hand on top of hers. “From the moment I saw you in that corner, a blood-splattered angel, I felt it inside me. You are mine. We danced around it even before that, but that instant was the switch when you became the most important thing to me. And since then, I’ve been patient. Fuck, I’ve been so patient.”

  My voice goes quiet as I reach up to slip a tendril of hair behind her ear. Even with the majority locked in a tight ballerina bun, there are wisps of hair breaking free from the bonds she has them in. It feels a bit like Allie . . . easy and tight on the surface, but with a desire to be free.

  At her core, Allie is a free spirit, tamed and tamped down by life and circumstance. Alternatively, I am cold at the surface, and the deeper one delves into my soul, there is only darkness. Perhaps that’s why I’m so attracted to her light. I stroke my thumb along her jaw, and she tilts her chin, giving me greater access.

  “Why did you wait? Why now?” she whispers.

  I notice she doesn’t ask what happens if she says no. She’s giving herself to me, and somehow, I feel like I’ve both been granted a precious gift and sullied a flawless jewel. She doesn’t deserve a bastard like me.

  That doesn’t stop me, though, as I grasp her chin in my fingers, bringing her eyes to mine.

  “You weren’t ready then. I wasn’t sure if you would ever be able to deal with me and everything that comes with that. I’m still not sure, but with you no longer at the club, I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. And while tonight might have been hurtful and my actions likely criminal, this feels like a karmic jumpstart, giving us a giant leap forward by exposing more than I ever thought I’d be able to. Every breath I take, I think of you. Every beat of my heart, I want you. Every thought in my mind is of you. And while some would call me a strong man, I could never, ever let you just leave my life without trying to at least come to this point, to look you in the eyes and tell you that whether you’ve known it or not, you are mine, marked eternally as such. Because you’ve marked me.”

  My words are intense, leaving no room for doubt at how serious I’m taking this with her. It’s pedal to the metal, no coy dating with pecks on the cheek at the doorway. No will-he-won’t-he. None of that shit. It’s scary, it’s frightening . . . it’s jumping into the abyss without a parachute and praying your soul isn’t consumed by it.

  I only hope that she can find some dark romance in the honesty of them. Her breath hitches, her eyes jumping from my left to my right as she searches for . . . something. I don’t bother to hide, wanting her to see me just this once.

  All of me.

  I might be an ugly monster that rules with an iron fist, a bastard that runs this town, but for her, I’m but a man whose heart is vulnerable to the one creature that can kill me with barely a thought . . . Allie Bancroft.

  She lets the moment stretch, torturing me before mercifully placing her hand on my cheek and touching her forehead to mine.

  “Okay. I’m ready—”

  Before the words fully leave her lips, I’m on her, pressing her back against the pile of pillows and plundering her mouth. She has been in control for too long, leaving me dangling from a leash like a lovelorn puppy even though she was unaware of her power.

  Even tonight, I submitted myself to her will and answered her questions. I apologized. That hasn’t happened since, well, I can’t remember. I have let her be the boss, but it’s time I take the title back, show her who’s in charge. Both here and everywhere.

  I’m a force of nature. I’m thought, and will, and determination. I’m who took the world by the throat and am forcing it to bend to my plans.

  I use a handful of her hair to hold her head in place, teasing and savoring her lips until she whines in need before giving her a deeper taste as our tongues twirl.

  She tastes like cinnamon and coffee, a spicy combination much like her own fire. I press into her, needing every inch of her against me, even if there is a thin layer of fabric separating our skin.

  Thinking of her skin, I reach down, running a rough hand up her thigh, enjoying the satin of the legs that have taunted me endlessly.

  Going higher, I grasp a handful of her ass, kneading her soft tautness in my grip. She whimpers, and I remember something.

  “I have watched for months, Allie. Every dance on stage, you do a special move. You do it on purpose to taunt me. You know it, don’t you?” I ask, her eyes flaring in realization. She always does it, no matter the routine. She locks eyes on my window and lifts the right side of her skirt, rubbing her hand over her cheek before smacking it once, daring me as she gives me the private smile that has fueled my fantasies. “And I agree that you deserve a good spanking.”

  Without warning, I grab her around the waist, pulling her up from the couch and lifting her into my arms. She’s light as a feather, and as she flies upward, she gasps at the weightless sensation.

  “Whaaaa? What are you doing?”

  I don’t answer in words, instead turning and arranging her over my lap. Her head twists back, eyes glaring at me, but I can see the breathless anticipation underneath her argumentative nature.

  Her eyes narrow, disagreement on her tongue, but I circumvent her with a good smack to her right cheek. She sputters incredulously, her eyes flaring.

  “You actually spanked me?”

  I give her a victorious smirk and do it again, this time to her left cheek before rubbing the fabric, wishing I could pull her shorts down and do it to her bare flesh. Later. My control of the world starts with my control of myself.

  She doesn’t say a word, but I can feel the slightest hint of vibration against my thighs and I realize that she moaned. I’m certain it was unintentional. This woman wouldn’t give in so easily, but it’s a sign that I’m moving in the right direction. I pop each cheek again and again in quick succession, her shorts riding up as she begins writhing in my lap. Soon, I can see at least half of each cheek, right at the dimpled part where her muscles pull the curve in slightly as she dances.

  “I think you like your punishment, don’t you, Allie?” I ask as I rub at the pinkening globes of her ass, soothing the ache as the warmth of her skin heats my palm. “Tell me.”

  Her moan is all the answer I need, and her hips buck, lifting her ass to my hand, begging for more. I grab the fabric of her shorts, pulling them up tight between her cheeks in a sexy version of a wedgie that shows me her ass but also lets her pussy rub against the seam of the shorts.

  Unconsciously, she grinds against me, rubbing that seam up and down her slit, soaking herself so much I can feel the hot dampness through the leg of my slacks as my own cock rages against her side, thick and throbbing.

  I give each cheek one more solid tap as she cries out, so close to coming I can feel the tension of the precipice she’s riding. I bend down, laying one sweet kiss to each pained cheek and using my nose to nuzzle along her crack and close to her pussy, breathing her sweet arousal in, needing to take some piece of her into my soul.

  Before she goes over, I carefully adjust her shorts, setting them back in place and helping her rise up from my legs. I place her in my lap, sitting on one thigh as if I’m Santa and she’s going to tell me what she wants.

  She hisses slightly at the pressure on her sore ass and wiggles as she searches for some release, but she eventually settles, releasing her breath in a
shaky exhalation that tells me she’s almost in pain from being denied her release.

  I hold her wrists in the cage of my hands and all of her in the confines of my heart. She doesn’t move, but I know she can feel the rock-hard throbbing pressing against the side of her thigh, my cock demanding that it be allowed to fill her sweet, cherished folds and release my passionate torrent inside her.

  But not yet. Because Allie was right. I’ve violated the codes of honor. And as much as this means a new start between us, I haven’t earned the right to that yet.

  “Is that it?” she whispers softly, looking back at me in desire and confusion.

  “Punishment and reward, sweetheart. For us both.”

  She murmurs again, seemingly understanding even as the words are unintelligible. She half turns, resting her head on my shoulder, and minutes later, she drifts off, my arms around her waist and her warmth telling me that I’m an undeserving bastard . . . but I hold on anyway.

  Chapter 7

  Allie

  The thought hits me as I towel off in my bathroom the next morning, the steam swirling around me and my body still tingling from all that happened last night.

  I think I’m dating Dominick Angeline, head of the Angeline crime family. Mob boss of all of East Robinsville.

  How in the fuck did that happen?

  How is this my life? I remember falling asleep last night . . . in his lap.

  How embarrassing is that?

  The hardest part was waking up in bed alone. I’d been oddly disappointed that he wasn’t curled up around me in my small bed, fighting for space with my overabundance of pillows.

  I’d even fantasized about what he might look like relaxed and vulnerable, all harshness softened from his features by a peaceful sleep. But over my morning coffee, I consider that he might’ve recognized that I’d need some space this morning to process everything and had left to be nice. Polite. Sweet, even.