I laughed and tucked in my blouse again and pulled my tie all the way up. As I did, Terry came back with an old fashioned fedora, which he handed to me.
"Here, tuck your hair into this. That'll make the reveal all the better."
I considered it, then nodded, pulling my hair back into a quick twist that I piled on my head and secured with a clip that Terry handed me before fitting it all under the fedora. It was a tight fit, but it worked well enough. "How do I look?"
"Like the sexiest man to walk in here in years," Terry said with a chuckle. "No offense. Now, the room has a digital music system in it, with controls both inside and outside. We can set some stuff up here if you want."
"I do," I said, thinking about my outfit. I looked, choosing some Brazilian jazz, slow and sensual that would build as the song went on to a more tango-like beat. I punched it into the system and looked at Terry. "I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. I was angry with Tomasso—it seems that we bring out this sort of fierceness in one another. I didn’t mean to say that your girls couldn’t dance, but I couldn’t take it back after it came out. I know they’re trying to make money more than great art."
"No, you were right for the most part,” Terry said, waving it off with a smile. "A lot of the girls can't dance for shit. They've just got bodies that men like to throw down money to see. But thanks. I know it seems you two have a sort of animosity against each other, but if I can ask, why don’t you just call this off?”
“Because I want that cocky bastard to eat his words,” I replied with a little bit of heat. "Don't you know not to make a Latina angry?"
He smiled and escorted me to the door of the VIP room, where he unlocked it and handed me the key before closing the door behind me. The room was mostly soundproofed, with a single long couch that stretched most of the length of the small booth. Tomasso had taken off his suit jacket and holster, putting both on the coat hooks that were against the wall. Leaning back against the seat rest, he had a cocky little smirk on his face that I was looking forward to wiping off. "Well, are you ready? And nice hat."
"Shut up and watch," I said, tapping the play button on the remote attached inside the door. The music started, and I walked across the floor until I was close enough that Tomasso could almost touch me before spinning on my heel, making sure my hips swung closer to him as I bent over slightly before walking away.
The music continued and I spun back around, working the buttons on my jacket until I could open the coat fully, peeling it off before tossing it to the side. I'd tucked my shirt as tightly as possible around my stomach and breasts, and they were practically molded to the fabric. I smiled inside as Tomasso's eyes widened slightly. Next was the hat, swinging my hair around before setting the fedora on his head and drawing him forward, where his arms rested on his knees with anticipation. Then my tie, which I slowly pulled off my neck before taking it and wrapping it around his neck, leaning in so close that I could feel his breath on my lips. "I think you'd look great in this, sexy man."
His reply shocked me as he pulled me in, his lips meeting mine as he kissed me hard. His mouth was hungry, demanding, and I started to relent before I remembered that I was the one who was supposed to be in charge. Surprised, both at his audacity and at my reaction, I pulled back before slapping him across the face with everything I had. "You son of a bitch! How dare you! You—”
He caught my next slap and lifted me, pushing me against the wall as his powerful body held me helpless against the soundproof padding. He kissed me again, and I felt it, irresistible and hot—my body aching for it. The heat that had been building inside me, the fantasy that I'd been playing with for days was in my arms, and I gave in to my desire. My tongue came out to duel with his, and even though I was angry, the passion built between us. Still, I was the one who was going to be in charge, not him.
Yanking at his shirt, I pulled it out of his pants while his knee parted my legs like they were water, and for the first time, I felt his cock pressing against my hip. He was larger than I'd expected, and I felt more heat build between my legs. "You asshole," I growled when our lips parted for air. “You know you’re an asshole, right?”
"I know," Tomasso replied, pulling me off the wall and pushing me toward the sofa. We collapsed, him on top of me, driving his body into mine as we pulled and tugged at our clothing, trying to get past the annoying fabric to the skin that we both wanted.
It was rough, it was a battle, and one I intended to win. If he thought he could take me, he would find that I was the one taking him. Using some of my jiu-jitsu skills, I flipped us both off the couch, landing on the floor in a loud thud that jarred him slightly. Still, he was strong, his arms unyielding as he crushed me to him again, his lips hot and demanding on my neck, tasting me and tearing groans from my throat.
I could feel his cock pressing between my legs, our pants maddeningly in the way. Reaching down, I cupped him, feeling the heavy weight, and both of us moaned in anticipation. I undid Tomasso's belt and reached inside, shivering at the thickness of what I found inside. "Mmm . . .”
He rolled us over again, his face filled with lust and desire and a bit of anger. He wanted to be the one in charge, and I'd been taunting him and frustrating him for so long—he was at the limits of his control.
I was glad that my pants actually had some flex to them and that I'd already undone the waistband, because Tomasso yanked them so hard off my hips that I felt the heat of the fabric over my skin, and I knew that if I hadn't, he'd have literally torn the pants off my body. Lifting my legs, he pinned my feet next to my head, my legs only able to spread as far as my pants around my ankles would let me. His chest rumbled deep with his desire, and I couldn't see as he adjusted himself, but I could feel the head of his cock pressing against me, and I growled back at him, “You’d better wrap that thing."
He didn’t say a word, and he kept my legs pinned against me as he reached for his pants and fiddled around. I heard a package rip open, and I was glad that he was prepared.
After a moment, he pulled back, then drove his hips forward, his cock spearing me open and driving all words from my mind. Instead, hot streams of pleasure tore through my body as I was stretched and filled again after knowing nothing but my own hands for too long. Without pausing, he pulled back and drove himself in again, pounding me.
I'd never felt something so feral, so passionate, and so amazing as Tomasso relentlessly fucked me. His hips smacked into me over and over, my body giving in to him as he drove his cock deep inside me. My pussy clenched and tightened around him, wanting more and not wanting him to pull out, but he was relentless.
Reaching up with my hands, I pulled him down into a searing kiss, my fingers tight on his neck and my tongue searching not for combat, but for union. I hadn’t surrendered to a man in the past three years, not since college, but he was a man worth giving in to. Tomasso stiffened at first, suspicious even as his cock continued to hammer inside me before his lips softened and his hands became tender on my skin, the fire in his eyes changing from angry passion to just passion. I met his thrusts as best I could, but with my boots next to my ears, there was little I could do. "Let me turn over . . . please. I promise I'll be good."
He nodded, pulling out long enough for me to get off the floor and bend over the sofa, my knees resting on the edge while my forearms rested on the back of the sofa. I looked over my shoulder at him, smiling. "I like it like this."
Tomasso got up and grinned, his cock finally in my view. He was perfect, just the right size and thickness, and I knew it was like nothing I'd ever felt before. He finished taking off his shirt, and I was impressed even more. He was ripped, with thick, rolling slabs of muscle on his body. He paused to slide my pants down further, only to be stopped by my boots. "We should take these off."
"Another time," I whispered, smiling. Would there be another time? I couldn’t believe I was thinking it, but I hoped so.
He took my waist in his hands, sliding into me in one long, deep thrust that had u
s both sighing in pleasure as he let go. Pushing back, I thrust myself back and forth on his cock while he kept himself perfectly still, letting the waves of pleasure wash over me. "Oh, Tomasso . . .”
He started to thrust slowly, in time with my hips so that we built together, in time to the music that was just coming back into my notice. We sped up, faster and faster, when Tomasso suddenly spanked my ass, right then left, adding electricity to the fire building inside us. It drove me wild, and I let myself totally go, the orgasm building inside me. Reaching down, I stroked my clit while he thrilled me, my body assaulted with sensation. "I'm going to come—don't stop!”
Instead of stopping, he sped up even more, his hips slapping against mine in time to the now frantically fast Brazilian music, and suddenly, I was there. I peaked, my pussy clenching as my body lost all control. I stiffened, unable to do anything but feel the amazing wave and Tomasso's cock pounding into me at blinding speed. He stiffened, and in a long moan, I felt his cock start to explode as his own orgasm washed over him and his fingers tightened nearly painfully on my hips. I felt another little thrill and smiled, letting my head sag into the cushion, blissful exhaustion washing over me. I was sobbing, both in happiness and release, and I’d never felt better in my life.
He slipped out, and I got off the sofa, realizing the music had stopped. I looked at him and wiped at my eyes, wondering if I'd been missing out by being so bitchy to him at times, but then I wondered if it could have happened any other way. I watched as he fixed his clothes, slipping the condom off and tossing it into a wastebasket in the corner before tucking himself away and fixing his shirt and tie. "Come on," he said, with none of the tenderness or affection I'd felt while he was inside me. "We still have another stop to make tonight."
I walked over and tried to kiss him, but he turned away, shaking his head. I swallowed the bitter pill of my disappointment and shame and nodded. Wiping myself down quickly, I fixed my panties and suit, leaving the tie off. Fuck it. I didn't need it. It seemed I didn't need a lot of things in life. "Fine. Let's go."
Chapter 9
Tomasso
I felt like the world's biggest shithead the next day after waking up in bed alone. After fucking Luisa, I'd been cold, my fears and anxieties taking over when I should have been focused on the moment instead. In the early morning hours afterward, as Luisa decided to stay in the car while I got my last pickup and brought her home, I was able to reflect on the change in her voice and what happened. Sure, it started with anger, but there was a hint of something else at the end which scared me even more. She hadn't been bitchy, but instead tender and open, showing me something I hadn't seen in her before. It scared me. It scared me because I felt the same way, and I wasn't sure if I was able to open myself up the same way.
I found her at the breakfast table, even though it was nearly eleven in the morning, sipping at a coffee. She'd put on jeans and a t-shirt, and I had to admit, she looked amazing. Her hair glowed golden in the near midday sun, and I had to smile as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. I must have spanked her harder than I had thought the night before. "Good morning."
"If you say so," Luisa said, pointedly ignoring me with her eyes.
I sighed and got my own cup of coffee, glad I had the rest of the day off. I didn't need anymore headaches or concerns today. I sat down across the table from her and took a sip. "Luisa, about last night . . .”
“There’s nothing to say,” she replied, finishing her coffee. She set the cup down and for the first time looked over at me, her dark eyes flashing with anger and hurt. "You had your fun—you broke me down. You won our little sex battle, and you got your prize, while I just have a sore ass. If you don’t mind, I’m going to go shopping. I need some fresh clothes for the rest of my stay. I didn't pack to be in America this long."
Getting up without another word, she put her cup in the sink. "Luisa . . .” I tried, and she held her hand up, silencing me and storming off. I watched her go and gulped down the rest of my coffee, putting the cup on the counter and hurrying after her. I watched as she grabbed a set of keys from the pegboard next to the staff entrance, ignoring me as she grabbed her purse and walked out the side door of the mansion. I rushed after her, grabbing her arm. "What are you doing?"
"Leave me alone," she hissed. “Last night was a moment of weakness, but if you touch me again, I’ll break your fucking wrist."
Pulling away, she jumped in the Fiat that she had the keys for and started the engine, nearly running over my foot as she pulled out, spraying me with crushed gravel. Patting my pockets, I was glad that my college habit of grabbing my keys and wallet were paying off, and I ran to my car, jumping in and following her.
I realized, too late, that I'd left my cellphone in my room, and cursed. Still, I couldn’t just let her go off on her own, so I followed her, making sure she didn't do anything too stupid. I didn't want to cause a scene, so I just stayed behind her, making sure she stayed in sight, and let her cool down. Maybe after she'd cooled down, I'd be able to talk to her, and maybe it was time for some honesty between us.
As I drove, I thought about how I should have done things differently the night before. I wanted to tell her the truth, that I was interested in her beyond just my want to fuck her. Sure, she was bitchy, and she had pride that came from a family heritage and her own hard work, but there was another side to her, one that spoke to me in a way that a woman hadn't in a very long time. It was in the way she challenged me—she was a strong woman, and it drew me to her. I wanted to say it, but fear overtook me, and I took the easy way out. For that, I branded myself a coward and a total shit.
Distracted, I didn't notice the black Tahoe that pulled up alongside until it was already next to me. I looked over and saw the driver looking at me like he knew me for a moment before stepping down on his accelerator, surging ahead. I watched as he pulled up next to Luisa's Fiat, paralleling it for a while. I wondered. That face caught in my mind for some reason—until it came to me.
The driver's face had a scar. It was the man we’d been looking for.
I stepped on my accelerator when suddenly, the Tahoe jerked to the right, clipping Luisa's car. Jammed to the side, she kept her wits about her, not losing control as she went with the attack and curved into the bike lane. Her tires skidded along the curb, her car getting crunched until she came to a smaller curb, where her right two wheels went up on the sidewalk. It was a temporary reprieve at best, as I could see ahead street-side parking and trees that were planted in gaps of the sidewalk. I had to act fast.
I didn't have a gun, and I didn't even have a phone. What I had was a sports car and a powerful engine. Not caring about my safety, I plowed my car into the back of the Tahoe, hoping that my tiny little sports coupe had enough mass to do something to the much larger SUV.
Thankfully, physics were not totally against me. The Alfa-Romeo is a small car, but it’s also built low to the ground, with a hood that starts low and curves upward. The Tahoe's back bumper was taller, and I saw as the back end lifted even as the shock of impact jolted through me and the air bag exploded in my face. I felt the painful jerk of my seatbelt pulling tight, a flare of pain in my left shoulder, and then the world went hazy.
I don't know how long I was out. It couldn't have been more than ten or fifteen minutes. The first thing I was aware of was a very bright redness in my vision. The second was a screeching sound. I slowly opened my eyes to find that the screeching sound was the fire department rescue team using the Jaws of Life to cut the support struts on the roof of my car. There was a firefighter next to me, holding a blanket to prevent sparks or metal falling on me. Looking out the front, I saw that the front of my car was crunched, and my left ankle felt numb. "What?"
I had to give the firefighter credit. He didn't get startled at all. Instead, he looked at me, then back to the cutting. "We're getting your car open. Next time you try to rear-end someone, pick a car bigger than a roller skate."
I mumbled, the effort of speaking overcomin
g me. My vision went swimmy again, and darkness followed afterward. In it, I only had one thought. Was Luisa okay?
"He's waking up."
My eyes fluttered again, and I saw that I was in a hospital now, which I didn't like. Being in a hospital meant that I had been taken in by ambulance. And ambulances have a disturbing tendency to be in the proximity of the police.
Still, the people in the room reassured me as I saw Dom Petruzelli, my father, and a doctor. "Yeah, I'm awake.”
Dad chuckled and looked at the doctor. "He sounds fine to me."
The doctor shrugged and looked at some machines above my head. “His pulse is steady, but that ankle's not going anywhere for a while. He’s probably got a concussion too. Hold on."
The doctor got his little penlight, and I felt a distinct sense of deja vu. I was getting checked for head injuries far too often for my liking. "Follow the little light, I got it," I grumbled, my eyes watering from the brightness. "Keep it up, and I'm going to go blind."
"He's going to have a splitting headache, but I think overall, the main things are his shoulder and ankle," the doctor said. "I would suggest that he stay here for the next day or two, at least until the swelling goes down in the ankle and we can get it booted properly."
"What's wrong with my ankle?" I asked, looking down. Sticking out from under the blanket at a slightly weird angle was a chunky, bulky air cast. At least the damn thing wasn't heavy, although my leg already itched. It was then that I noticed I wasn't wearing any pants either. "Oh. Shit, you guys could have at least just cut the jeans off at the knee."
"We'd have had to finish the job when you go under for full casting," the doctor said with a chuckle. "Don't worry, Mr. Bertoli. I'm sure you can afford a new pair. Oh, and congratulations, by the way."
I looked over at Dad and Dom, confused. "Congratulations?"
Reckless (Bertoli Crime Family #2) Page 7