by Bethany-Kris
“You’re gonna make me come like that,” she breathed, her exhale shuddering.
Bliss teased her senses.
It was almost there.
“No, I won’t,” Renzo said huskily, “I can promise you that. Not until you ask.”
So he thought.
She knew better.
She could fucking feel it right there.
Almost fucking there.
There was a single second—maybe two—before a woman orgasmed where she plateaued. Sensation fled like birds scattering into the sky, her senses honed in on the release that was about to ravage her body, and she sucked in a deep breath in preparation for that blissful feeling.
A single second or two where an orgasm could easily be lost if someone took away the thing that had brought her to that glorious place.
Renzo did just that. It was like he knew—like he could tell by the way her body tensed, and she sucked in her breath in preparation for the orgasm about to drag her under that she had hit her plateau.
And he stopped.
Moved his hands way too far away from her clit.
Just like that, Lucia’s orgasm was chased away. Her desperation at losing the bliss came out in a harsh noise that clawed its way out of her throat. Her disbelieving—and angry, probably—gaze drifted down to find the man smiling at her.
“Told you,” he said.
Arrogant.
Knowing.
Entirely too pleased.
“That’s called edging, you know,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss her thigh before biting the same spot. His tongue flicked too, tasting her skin and the wetness his fingers left behind to her thigh after being on her sex. “How many times do you think I could edge you before you broke, Lucia?”
She couldn’t even talk.
Not that it mattered.
His fingers were back on her sex again—circling and stroking and driving her crazy. It took him even less time during the second round to get her back to that peak. And just like before, he pulled all the way back when she hit the point of no fucking return. He waited for her shaking to simmer before he was back at it again. The third time took a little bit longer to get to the plateau, but she blamed that on the fact he fingered her first, and then teased her clit until she couldn’t take it anymore.
That was all it took. Just three times edging her to the precipice, taking it away, and she was ready to beg.
“Please make me come with your mouth,” she said in a rush, almost fucking sobbing from having a third orgasm pulled away from her. Her hands had come up to grab the edge of the counter behind her, and she swore she was going to break her goddamn fingernails from squeezing it so hard. Renzo grinned in that way of his, and all she could do was whisper, “Please fuck me with your mouth, or I am going to die.”
“Dramatic.”
“And yet, not untrue. Hurry the fuck up.”
His palm slapped her inner thigh just hard enough to make her flinch, and then his face was buried between her thighs in the next blink. That mouth of his against her sex was something else. He didn’t intend to tease her at all, it seemed. He wasn’t going to make her climb higher and higher one slow, agonizing second at a time.
No, he just got to fucking business.
Fingers stuffed up her pussy, and his tongue driving against her clit in a steady beat that took the air right out of her lungs. Fuck the counter. She had to put her hands on him because she swore that if he moved away again, she was going to kill him. Her fingers threaded into his hair, and grabbed tight. Renzo stared up at her, a knowing glint reflecting back in his gaze.
She didn’t need to hear his voice to know what he was saying.
You want that?
You like that?
Gonna come for me?
Fuck.
“Right there,” Lucia mumbled.
That fear he might pull away when she hit the plateau was pointless, it seemed. The second that orgasm started to rush through her body—it came on fast and hard—he stayed right there. Never letting up his pace, or how hard his fingers curled against her G-spot with every thrust. His tongue came a beat faster, and then he was sucking on her clit when she let out a shout of his name.
She’d never came harder.
Never appreciated an orgasm more.
And she wanted another the second it was gone.
Renzo kissed a path up her stomach, and only slowed when his wet lips pressed against hers. There was something dangerous and addicting about tasting her own sex on his mouth. Like she could suck the taste of her right off the tip of his tongue, and still wouldn’t be able to get enough.
Did she taste better on him, or right from the source?
“My turn,” he grunted against her lips.
In a breath, he had her lifted onto the counter, and her thighs spread open wide enough to make her muscles ache. She already had her fingers wrapped around the length of his erection. He couldn’t even be bothered to wait long enough to push his boxer-briefs down a little bit more before he was letting her guide him to her pussy.
Fuck, she was wet.
So wet, he just glided right in. The clenching of her inner muscles had him tensing, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t even give her a chance to breathe or adjust to his size before he was shoving her back against the vanity mirror, his hand found her jaw, and he was pounding into her. She felt the cheap counter and thin vanity mirror shudder from the impact, but it was all secondary to the way his cock felt driving into her over and over.
“Fucking watch,” he demanded.
It was the tug of his hand against her jaw that made her look down. Jesus. It was a beautiful sight, she thought. The length of his cock splitting her open, and slipping out of her soaked in her juices. The way his heartbeat showed in the length of his cock, and the tension pulling every single one of his muscles taut as he slowed just enough to give her a better show while he fucked her.
“Wanna do it again?” he asked.
Lucia’s gaze jumped up to meet his, and she dragged in a ragged breath. Her voice felt oh, so faint as she asked, “Do what again?”
“Edge you, baby.” Renzo grinned. “Only this time, I’ll be fucking you. See how long I can take it.”
Lucia laughed, breathless and high. “Fuck yeah.”
• • •
“Do you think maybe Tuck changed his mind?” Lucia asked as a knock echoed on the hotel door.
Renzo gave a bitter chuckle as he headed for the door to answer it. “Not likely. Something else has caught his attention for the moment, that’s all. Or he’s just being an ass and making me wait because he thinks it’s funny.”
Yeah, well … Lucia was liking Tucker less and less. The more Renzo told her about the guy, the less she liked about him when it came right down to it. She didn’t tell Renzo that because she didn’t want him to having yet another thing to worry about, but she was thinking it. That was enough for her.
Before she could ask something else, Renzo pulled open the door to reveal the pizza delivery man waiting on the other side with a bright red bag in his hands. It was just their luck that at the same time Renzo was pulling out money to pay the guy, the phone on the table started to ring.
Renzo’s phone.
“Shit, maybe that’s Tuck,” Renzo said over his shoulder, offering nothing else because the delivery man was still standing right there. Diego, on the other hand, was practically trying to climb up his brother’s back because the pizza was here, and he’d been asking about it all morning leading into the afternoon. They’d finally broken down and agreed to order him one—clearly. “Answer it, Lucia. Just tell him I’ll be a second.”
Lucia plucked up the phone, and without even checking the caller ID as she didn’t know Tuck’s number, picked up the call, saying, “Hello?”
For a second, silence answered Lucia back on the other end of the call. It only lasted long enough for her to hear someone let out a heavy breath. An exhale that echoed with relief. Lucia blinked, and glanced
over in Renzo’s direction, but he wasn’t paying her any mind. He was too busy handing over the cash for the pizza, and trying to keep a very active Diego out of the way while he did it.
“Just a second, now,” he said to his brother. “The pizza’s gonna taste the same in two minutes, Diego, damn.”
Lucia went back to the call, but there was still a silence on the other end. She pulled the phone away to look at the screen just to check and see if someone had hung up on her, but no. The call was still connected. The stranger part? The caller ID showed Rose Zulla. Renzo had put his sister’s contact in the night before to make it easier on himself when he called.
But he had not given his sister the private number attached to the burner phone. She was not supposed to be calling him back. He was only supposed to call her.
Putting the phone back to her ear, Lucia said, “Rose?”
“No, it’s not Rose, Lucia.”
It took her a second.
Then, two, and … three.
John.
It was her brother’s voice on the other end of that call.
She had to take those couple of seconds to fully realize the voice that was speaking back to her. She hadn’t talked to him in a month or a little more. Not since before he cornered Renzo in an alleyway, and warned him to stay away from Lucia. Oh, sure, he had tried something akin to communication with her. Hundreds of texts—at least fifty missed calls, all accompanied by him leaving her message after message on her voicemail that she simply deleted without even listening to.
John had been her best friend. Not just her brother, but the member of her family that she was most close to. He was her big brother, but he had never acted like the stereotypical big brother until Renzo.
Maybe that was why hearing his voice made her heart kickstart for a second. It caused a brief warmth to shoot out from her chest, and travel into the rest of her body. Because her first inclination when she spoke to her brother was to always fill him in on every single detail of her life that he might have missed out on since the last time they talked.
Despite her anger, all that bitterness and contempt she felt with John for taking her father’s side, she still had a habit of loving her brother simply because he was John, and she was Lucia. The two siblings so far apart in age that they never should have made friends, and yet, they had done just that. More so than the rest of her siblings.
But as quickly as that happy, warm feeling came, it was replaced by something hateful and angry. That just made Lucia so fucking mad. She didn’t want to feel that way, but she did.
He did that.
Just like her father.
“You there, Lucy?” she heard her brother ask.
God, she hated that nickname.
Lucia sucked in a sharp breath, noting the fact that Renzo was now closing the door with a pizza in his hand. “How did you get this number, and why are you calling from Rose’s phone?”
“Those are good questions. None of which I really want to give you the answers for.”
“Well, then I have nothing to say to you, John. So, good—”
“Hackers can do anything, Lucia. Anything.”
“Babe?”
Renzo’s quiet call of her name made her turn to look at him, and it was the concern written heavily on his brow that told her that he knew something was wrong. She waved a hand, not wanting to get distracted before she could end the call.
Especially not after she heard someone in the background say, “Sixty more seconds, John, and we’ll have the area code, maybe a full number, and possibly a location. Just keep her there for sixty more seconds.”
They were tracking her. It didn’t surprise her that they had access to a hacker with a program to get into Rose’s phone, and somehow call back a private number without having the number. But if they didn’t have her location or number yet, then that didn’t mean anything.
Right?
Not if they didn’t know an exact location.
Surely …
And if they only needed sixty more seconds …
“Where are you?” John asked.
“Happy,” Lucia answered simply.
“But are you—are you safe? Do you care how fucking worried we all are? Do you—”
“I’m happy, John. This phone won’t answer another call. Goodbye.”
Lucia hung up the phone knowing that hadn’t been sixty seconds. Renzo was already at her side, and picking up the phone. She could tell by the hardness of his gaze that he had basically gotten the gist of the conversation and what happened.
She was still going to have to explain.
And none of this felt good.
EIGHT
“Ren, open the pizza!”
His attention drifted between his little brother who had no idea the trouble that they just walked into, and Lucia who kept staring at that phone in his hands.
“Just a second,” Renzo replied absently.
The kid didn’t seem to understand that regardless, the pizza was still going to be as hot and good in five minutes as it was right now. Then again, he’d been asking for it every single hour on the hour since he woke up, too. Once Diego set his mind on something, he was going to get it and that’s all there was to it.
“Ren!”
He was not the type to lose his patience with Diego. Literally anyone else—except maybe Lucia—and he didn’t have time to listen to whining and nonsense. But right then, he was a little too close for comfort when it came to snapping at his little brother. It wasn’t even Diego’s fault, honestly.
“Here,” Lucia said, like she could read his mind or something, “let’s get this pizza opened for you, Diego.”
Renzo let her do her thing for Diego. It was easier for him to try and figure out how in the fuck her family—he was assuming it was her family only because she’d used her brother’s name—had gotten a hold of his sister’s phone.
“What did they say?” he asked Lucia as she flipped open the pizza box.
“Not a lot,” she returned. “I couldn’t stay on the phone too long or they would have been able to track me. That’s why I got off as soon as I could.”
Renzo’s brow dipped. “Track, how? I don’t understand.”
Lucia pulled out two pieces of steaming pizza, and set them on one of the paper plates they had grabbed when they went out to shop the day after arriving in Vegas. She barely even had time to slide the plate in front of Diego, and the kid was already ripping into a piece of pizza like he had never been fed a day in his life. It would have been amusing to Renzo on any other day if he wasn’t entirely fucked up over a single phone call.
Funny how something like that could ruin the peace he thought he found here. Even if it had been a short moment of peace, and only an illusion. Renzo hadn’t quite been ready to give it up just yet. Someone was determined to rip it out of his hands whether he was ready for them to or not, and now he had to decide what to do about it.
“Lucia,” he murmured when she didn’t answer him right away.
Lucia took a moment to wipe her hands on a paper towel before she turned her back to Diego. It effectively put her back to the boy so that they could talk quietly, calmly, and without making him think something was wrong. He appreciated her effort, really. He wasn’t even in the right frame of mind to consider how Diego might take all of this.
“I heard someone in the background,” she explained, shrugging. “They said something about needing another sixty seconds to grab the area code and phone number, and possibly a proper location. When I asked my brother how he had gotten ahold of a private phone number, he said hackers could do anything.”
“But they didn’t have the phone number,” Renzo said.
It wasn’t even a question because one of her statements contradicted the other, and he needed to be absolutely clear on this. They couldn’t afford to fuck around if her family knew where they were. He had no doubt the first thing they would do was come here, and take Lucia away from him. Which was fine if tha
t’s what she wanted to do, but he knew it wasn’t. Frankly, the only way Renzo could continue to give Lucia what she wanted—to stay with him—was to keep fucking running.
Lucia sighed. “Didn’t seem like it, no. That’s what they were trying to get, I think, if I can trust what the guy in the background said. Probably the fucking hacker, right? Is …”
“What?”
She glanced away from him. “Rose’s phone … could someone grab that, or no?”
“Doubtful,” Renzo answered simply.
His sister was every fucking seventeen-year-old girl to a fucking T. Her phone was never very far from her hands. She could wake up at the sound of a social media notification, but wouldn’t blink at a damn alarm clock. She had an account for every major social media app that was popular among her age group. Hell, she had taught him how to use one or two of them more than once. Unless someone had broken into his sister’s place while she was sleeping to grab her phone, there was no fucking way they got it away from her.
Simple as that.
And he seriously doubted the Marcellos went that far.
Then, Renzo had another idea. “But her number isn’t private. It’s accessible on at least one of her social media accounts to message her, and shit.”
“I don’t understand what that means,” Lucia admitted.
“It means if they have a hacker, all they needed was her phone number and a hotspot, Lucia. A hacker with the means and the mode, so to speak. Be at a hotspot near my sister, have her phone number, hack into her device, use the right code to call the last numbers that had called her phone, and there you are.”
She blinked. “Really?”
He echoed her brother’s words, then. “Hackers can do anything.”
If they had the talent, the means, and the mode.
“But then they didn’t have the actual phone number for this phone, then,” Lucia said, glancing down at the device in his hand.
“That’s probably what the code was running which, if they couldn’t track out the exact location during the phone call, would have given them an area code for where we were, and possibly the chance to hack into this phone.”