by Sadie Jacks
Actually hurting her, knowing I caused her physical damage, did something to my heart and soul. But I wasn’t willing to let my squeamishness get in the way of saving her. To give her the lifeline she clearly needed.
I’d ground my knee into her bruised thighs three times before the pain actually soaked through whatever nightmare had caught her. I’d prayed it would be enough to reach her. I didn’t want to get too physical with her in case she came back in worse mental shape than she’d gone in.
But like rising from a pool of water, she was wiped clean with the pain. Her face had softened and a flush kissed her cheeks. Her breathing had evened out and her body melted against me.
Had we not had an audience and I’d had her full consent, I would have taken her right there against the bathroom wall. But as dark as some of my kink got, I did nothing with women who had not fully, consciously consented to everything. My interview process made hiring for Fortune 500 look like an HR marathon. And that was just for my casual sexual partners. It said nothing of long-term subs like Synra.
That process was going to get an overhaul to get Willow in my bed. I looked down at her again. The sundress she wore gave her an air of innocence that I was forced to acknowledge.
“Feeling better?” I asked her.
She nodded. “You can let me go now.” She patted my chest.
I snorted. “I’ll let you go when I want to, cupcake.”
She glared up at me. “No. You’ll let me go when I want you to. It’s my body. I make the decisions about it.” She drilled her finger into my breastbone.
My brows popped up. “Is that so?”
She nodded.
I let her go.
Her legs buckled.
I caught her before she dropped to the floor. “I wasn’t saying that because I’m an asshole—although, I am. I was saying it because your body isn’t ready to hold you up yet.”
She glared at me again. “Then you should have just said that. Don’t play games with me, Ryker.”
I nodded. “I’ll remember that.” She flirted like a professional, but she had very firm, non-negotiable lines on where the fun ended. I’d have to remember that or I’d alienate her.
That wasn’t something I was willing to do until I’d had my fill of her. Once I was done, she could trundle off to whatever life she had. But I would have her under me in the near future.
“Ready to try moving again?” I asked her. I winced. “I had to grind my knee into your bruise, so it might actually be a little worse now.”
She petted a hand down my chest. Her gaze was soft. I don’t think she was even aware that she was touching me. Not really. “I needed it. I can deal with the fallout.”
I nodded, shifted my grip on her. Turned us both towards her bedroom. Something about it soothed me. I feel like I had to slow down to inspect it. To ferret out all of its secrets. Just like I was going to do to its owner.
“Well, then let's go find those men you’ve hooked yourself to.” I started us off at a snail’s pace.
She laughed softly as she got a death grip on my hand. “They’re really not so bad, you know. I think you’d even like them.”
I snorted. “New Trenadie’s version of mafia and you say they’re not so bad?”
She shrugged. “They aren’t as bad as the NYC Italians if the stories I’ve heard are true.”
We made it to the living room. Rafe was slumped forward on the couch, his head resting in his hands. He was muttering to himself. I hoped he was kicking his own ass mentally. Man should be shot for letting Willow suffer like that.
“Rafe?” Willow called softly.
His head jerked up. Stress and grief showed in his dark eyes. He launched himself over the coffee table. Scooped her up into his arms.
I curled my hands into fists to keep from jerking her back against me. I glared at the youngest Amatucci. Get used to it now, fucker. She’s going to be mine. And then its hands fucking off until I’m done with her.
He took her back to the couch and put her deep into the corner. He curled around the outer edge of the sofa, a barricade against the world. Against me.
Bastard.
They spoke to each other in low tones. At one point, Rafe lowered his head to her shoulder. I couldn’t tell if he was crying or not, but I heard Willow’s sniffles as I watched her hands come up his back. She petted him like he was an overgrown cat.
I turned away from the loving scene. Love, of any flavor, just gave someone else leverage to get what they wanted. No one ever stayed. They either left physically or checked out mentally. Everyone had their limit to the soft and cuddly.
I’d already reached mine.
I grabbed up my suit coat and briefcase. “Call me when you hear from Wright,” I said to Domenico as I headed for the door. I didn’t slam it behind me. But damn did I want to.
Chapter 14 – Willow
“Hey sleepy head. Time for dinner,” Tali called sometime later. The last thing I remember was going to sleep after I cried myself out in Rafe’s arms. Dom and Ryker had left as Rafe and I talked.
I pushed myself upright and slid back into the arm of the couch. My lower body still ached. My right leg definitely more than my left. I still wasn’t angry that Ryker had done it.
I was still a little hurt that Rafe or Dom had been unable to help me. I knew I shouldn’t be. Knew they just didn’t understand. But their lack killed something inside me. Slowly. So freaking slowly.
“What are we having?” I asked as I pushed the morose thoughts away.
“Lemon garlic chicken and asparagus,” she announced as she turned from the stove. “Sleep well?”
I was in the middle of stretching when she asked, so it took me a hot minute to answer. “Yeah. Pretty well. What time is it?”
“A little after six. Did you get everything done today that you wanted?” She set the copper pan on the trivets she’d laid out. She flapped her hands to dislodge the hot pad mitts. Picked up a lemon and squeezed it over the pan.
“Not everything, but I can catch up tomorrow assuming I can walk a little easier.” I inhaled deeply. “Damn, Tali, that smells amazing.”
She grinned up at me. “It better. It’s one of your recipes.”
“Grams or Phyllis?”
“Grams.”
I nodded. “Good. I love Phyllis’ recipe, but Grams’ is the best.”
She scooped out portions onto plates and brought them over to the couch. “Here.” She positioned the lap desk over my legs. “Be careful. It’s super hot.”
I nodded and took a big breath. “What did you use on the asparagus?”
She shrugged. “No idea. Some of this, a little of that.”
I rolled my eyes. “You should really be a chef. We could totally work together.”
She laughed. “I only like cooking for family, you know that. Besides, people are always trying to tell me what to do now. I can only imagine how much worse that would be if I were a chef.”
I took a sip of red wine. “True. Clients are bossy bitches.”
She clinked her glass to mine. “To being the top bossy bitches.”
“To bossy bitches.”
She hit the power for the TV, flipped it over to the apps section. “I need some cheerful or sexy. Which do you want?”
“Like you have to ask. Cheerful.” I rolled my eyes.
She looked at me, her face all screwed up. “You chose wrong. We’re watching sexy.” She stabbed her thumb on the remote.
“Nooo,” I groaned. The things she found sexy just irritated me. Made me feel itchy in unpleasant ways.
“Too bad. Besides, this one should be cheerful and sexy. Best of both possible worlds.” She tossed the small remote onto the table…well outside of my reach zone.
Bitch.
Her favorite production company’s logo appeared on screen in a deep maroon color. Passionflix. My best friend—the beloved daughter and sister in a mobster family—loved romance books. And movies adapted from those books. And the ser
ies adapted from those books. Essentially, if it had been in book form before becoming a movie or tv series, she was all over it like notches on a manwhore’s bed post.
“What’s this one about?” I asked as I cut my chicken breast. Scented steam rose from the meat.
“Oh you know. Tale as old as time. Girl runs away. Meets super-hot and secretly dominant bar owner. Throws herself at him until he can’t help but respond. Sexy times ensue. Major issue that provides the crux of the plot device. Happy ending.”
I laughed as I was trying to blow on the bite of chicken stuck to the end of my fork. “So we’re watching the movie why?”
“Annie was telling me about it. Now shut up and eat your chicken boobs.” She got down to the business of cutting her meat into quick little bites. Her gaze glued to the screen.
The movie wasn’t bad. I mean, it wasn’t going to win an Oscar or anything, but I actually enjoyed it. The girl wasn’t some simpering idiot who couldn’t think for herself. She was untrained yes, but she fixed that by jumping in with both feet. And the woman in the movie spoke to my heart. She, too, was a baker.
Whoever was in charge of the sex scenes didn’t make it into a glorified porno. I even got the urge to bake once or twice. Which reminded me of Ryker. That man was something else. In both good and bad ways.
Bossy enough to make me want to set him on fire with my Brulee torch. Sexy enough to make me want to make cupcakes and lick the extra frosting off his chest. But he’d want more than that, and that I couldn’t give him. So I’d keep my hands and my frosting to myself.
If I got the overwhelming urge for the brain rush of an orgasm, I’d just use my Satisfyer Pro. A little present to myself for those times when baking just didn’t make my flour rise. Using that little slice of heaven set me up in the O department for at least a fiscal quarter.
Tali wiped at her cheek as the main characters declared their love and metaphorically danced off into the moonlight. She let out a huge sigh. “See? Perfect blend of cheerful and sexy. You could climb the abs on that bartender, too. Damn.” She waved her hand in front of her face.
I smiled, a different face flashing in my mind. No. Bad girl. Kick him out. I shunted the image of Ryker to the back of my mind with all the other things I didn’t want to deal with. It was getting kind of full in the storage closet of my brain, but I’d just get a better lock for it.
Tali took my tray and plate, moved them away so I could try to get up. I did a couple more leg bends as I waited for her to come over and help me back into my cool bath for the evening. Which reminded me.
“Hey, how are we going to do the bath? We have no big strong men readily available if my stupid legs decide not to work.” I looked over towards the kitchen area.
She was scraping off the food debris into the trash. “True. Want me to call for Rafe or Dom?” She paused. “Or Ryker? I’m sure he’d be here in a hot minute to rescue your naked self.”
I blew a raspberry at her. “Definitely not the last. And probably Rafe. If something happens, he’d be on hand to help.”
She nodded and rinsed the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. That job done, she picked up her phone. “Hey, Chase is going to try another cool bath. Can you come hang out in case we need help?”
She flashed a bright smile. “Yes. Bring him, too. I haven’t seen him in forever.” She hung up, looked at me. “Massi’s back in town and he’s home!” She did a little dance around the kitchen. When left to her own devices and whatever head music she heard, she didn’t dance very well.
I smothered the laugh that tried to push from my mouth. “So Mas is coming with Rafe?” I asked.
Tali nodded—well, headbanged—but I took that as an affirmative. “They should be here—”
“Now,” Rafe finished as he held the door open for the second Amatucci son.
Massimo Andre Amatucci was walking sin and darkness. Slightly darker than the rest of his brothers, he was quiet, terrifying, and damaged. He’d earned his status of Amatucci Enforcer by the age of eighteen and he’d been doing wet work ever since.
The Amatucci family didn’t do a lot of wet work, but when they needed to make an impression or to scare the crap out of some of their overseas contacts, Mas was the specter that haunted the night. And brought recalcitrant associates back into line. By whatever means necessary.
He walked over, no sound of his passing. Just the dark visage of his black clothes in the low lighting. He came around and squatted before me. His dark eyes traced my face, down my body. I knew I wasn’t a potential sexual partner for Mas. In his eyes, I was someone to watch over. Protect. Much like his biological sister. No, he’d been one of the first to provide me protection and belonging.
“Feeling better?” he asked, his voice a harsh, grating whisper. His vocal cords had been damaged during a fight. He’d never speak louder than a whisper. But for his job, I think it just lent an additional air of mystery and terror. He ran his hand lightly down the bruised flesh of my legs.
I nodded. “Yes. Much.” I grabbed his hand, held it in mine. “How are you?”
His dark eyes shuttered. “Good.”
My heart ached for him. The loneliness oozed from him, but he’d never complained about his position in the family. Never fought to get a different one. He’d once told me that he did it to spare his brothers an eternity in hell. That if he could save them the soul-stain of drawing blood from others, he would do it for a thousand years.
I nodded and smiled like I always did. “Where were you this time? Best color.”
He tipped his head to the side, a hint of his personality peeking back through. “Purest sapphire by day, indigo by night.”
I sucked in a breath. “Jealous.”
The corner of his lips ticked up. “You want to go traveling? We can go anywhere we want on the jet.”
I shook my head. “No. I’m just jealous of the colors you get to see. Take any pictures?” I was always looking for new color inspiration for my pastries and confections. I’d made a reputation for myself for having some of the best color palette cohesion…the joke was on the public. I just copied from nature.
He pulled his phone from his pocket. Hit a few buttons and handed it to me. “See for yourself.”
I oo’ed and ah’ed. The man might be able to kill you with a toothpick and a piece of dental floss, but he had creativity in his soul. Once I got to the end of the folder, I handed back his phone. “Can I have some print outs?”
He nodded. “Of course.” He stood up, shook out his legs.
I trailed my gaze up his toned body, met his eyes. “I don’t want pictures of your penis, Mas.” I shot him a wink.
His gravelly whispering laugh was beautiful. “I wasn’t offering. Tali said you needed help moving. Let’s get to it. I’d like to sleep before the sun comes back up.” He put his hands out for me to take.
I swung my legs to the floor. Well, I tried. I pushed them off the side of the couch, but it doesn’t sound nearly as elegant that way.
Grabbing Mas’ hands, I let him pull me up to my feet. Surprisingly, the quick shift of pain wasn’t as bad this time around. A few moments of brain searing tingles and then they drifted away.
His eyes hardened as he looked down at my face. “Name.”
I glared up at him. “You want that, you ask Dom. I won’t help tarnish your soul, Mas.” I brushed a hand over his heart.
His eyes closed for a moment, the corners of his mouth dipping down by the slightest margin. He leaned forward, pressed his lips to my forehead. “Bath time, little sister,” he said as he pulled back.
I nodded and followed him to the bathroom connected to my bedroom. He was slow and gentle as we navigated the furniture I’d refused to have moved. I needed to get better, not coddle myself by making it easier to walk around.
“Are you going to be ready for your parties this weekend?” he asked as he turned on the lights in the bedroom.
I smiled, shook my head. The man had been out of the country f
or at least three weeks and he knew my schedule. “Yeah. And I’ve recruited everyone to help if I’m not.”
He sent me a smile. “I’ll be there. You can order me around. And I’ll take care of my brothers who don’t want to be bossed around.” He bumped his shoulder into mine softly.
“Thank you. Rafe was already whining that I’m bitchy when I’m bossy.” I leaned up against the wall as he turned to flip on the water.
He chuckled softly. “That’s because Rafe’s the whiny bitch and he doesn’t like anyone taking his title.”
I had to lean forward to hear him over the roar of the water, but we managed.
He turned back to me. “Sleep wear?”
“Tank and boy shorts, please.”
He nodded and moved back to the bedroom.
While he was gone, I took my dress off and slid into the water. Hissing out a breath at what felt like freezing water, I had to wait for my arms to stop shaking before I could sit down. It seemed I needed to add some upper body strength exercises to my regular routine. I was a wimp with noodle arms.
I got halfway down in the water before my arms gave out. I landed with a huge thud and splash. Not to mention a guttural scream.
In no time, three Amatucci siblings were crowding into my bathroom.
“I’m fine. My arms gave out. I plopped down the last few inches.” I rolled my eyes at myself. I wasn’t usually klutzy. The fact that I couldn’t really rely on my body right now was really starting to piss me off.
Rafe and Mas exited, leaving Tali there with the clothes Mas had handed off to her.
“How is he?” Tali asked. Sorrow leached the dazzle from her dark eyes. “Massi.”
I shrugged. “Not too bad. He’s definitely been worse. You should see his pictures this time though, Tali. He’s getting so good. Probably good enough to have his own showing.”
She laughed, but the sound ripped my heart instead of lifted it. “He’d never do that. Wouldn’t let any of us do it for him either. He thinks this is all he’s good for.”