“I can walk,” I barked as he pushed me up against the side of the wood building the minute we reached the landing.
“Fuck, woman, just give up. I want to fuck you, and you want to fuck me. Your pussy is on fire right now and this”—he pressed his hard dick into me as I moved my hands to his shoulders—“is not in the mood for anything but the proper use of that mouth.”
“Go to hell.” I pushed away from him and turned to head for the waiting SUV.
I was furious with myself for revealing so much. This man wasn’t interested in me in the least. He wanted a fuck and I wanted ...What did I want?
I didn’t want to be involved but I damn sure didn’t want to be ignored, or feel it when I made polite conversation. I heard another sigh behind me.
“You want me to care or you do not? Figure it out, Taylor Ellison. I am getting tired of your fits. I have fucked you only once and from what I can see you may no longer be worth the trouble.”
I saw red as I turned and lunged at him, the whiskey a perfect excuse for me to lose my ever loving mind. “You son of a bitch,” I shrieked as I pounded at his chest with my fist. “Who in the hell do you think you are! Forget this whole situation, and to hell with you.” I turned on my wedged heel and fell flat on my indignant ass. Daniello howled behind me as I whimpered at the pain in my ankle. I pulled myself up with no help from him and limped to the SUV where Rocco opened the door without any emotion on his face. Daniello followed behind me with a snide comment.
“Rocco, you must find a red hair south woman and give her whiskey. That is an order!” He laughed loudly and clapped his back before he climbed in behind me. I felt the pain in my chest as I tried hard to stifle my laugh and glared out the window.
Fuck, it was me and completely me.
I’d shied away from every single thing Daniello had done to show affection and responded only to the sexual advances. I had to own that. I didn’t need him to care, but in a small way, I wanted him to. The truth serum had shown that to me and to him.
His laughing slowed as I remained trained on the world passing by us. “I don’t need love, Daniello. I don’t.”
“I know,” he said, agreeing with me. “You are not that kind of woman. But every woman deserves appreciation.”
“And respect,” I added, pulling my leg up slightly to inspect my ankle. “What I’m trying to say is ...”
“When you talk you want me to listen,” he said simply.
I nodded.
“I have not missed a word,” he assured me.
I felt a small amount of emotion break in my throat at his words and hid it by clearing it and giving him an embarrassed smile.
“I guess you know why I stick to wine,” I offered quickly.
“You will drink whiskey with me.” The car stopped before I had a chance to ask if he was serious. For such a bad man, his sense of perverse humor seemed to be intact.
I asked as much as we entered my condo. “What kind of bad things do you do?”
He paused mid-stride in my living room, his back to me as I realized instantly I’d gone too far.
I felt the shift in the air as Daniello sharply turned on me, his features simmering.
Taking a few tentative steps forward, I took a leap. “I own part of a legitimate business, and have no interest in seeing all the hard work I’ve done disappear due to guilt by association. Can you guarantee your work won’t interfere with my life in any way and won’t jeopardize my company?”
His answer was quick. “No.”
“Personally or professionally?”
“Professionally seems ...unlikely. Personally depends on you.”
I tilted my head with more questions.
“Taylor, I will not give you more. We have already discussed this.” He turned away from me then walked to the kitchen, searching the cabinets. He pulled out a bottle and placed two pills on the counter, pushing them toward me and filling a glass full of water from the dispenser.
The mood was suddenly ...awkward.
I did the only thing I knew to do in that moment. I let him lead. Taking the pills from the counter, I popped them in my mouth and downed the water. He knew I’d drank too much. It felt strange to be cared for in this way and yet I welcomed it. I stood watching him as he studied me. It looked like he was trying to figure out what to do with me.
“Maybe I’m just not going to be good at this,” I said, giving him an out. As much as he intrigued me, as much as I wanted another round with him, and as much as my time with him had been anything but boring, I had to admit I was acting a total fool. I was out of my element because, in a sense, we were dating.
“You are horrible at this.”
I grinned. “Thank you.”
“I like your south accent,” he said, taking a step forward.
“It’s southern,” I said, correcting him and then cursing myself for it. I held my hand up. “I’m going to bed before I say another word.” He smiled deep in reply. I paused, completely unsure of how this was supposed to go. I forced myself to think back to college when I was in my first adult relationship. He was nothing like Daniello. It took my ex the better part of a year to get sleeping over privileges. The dynamic between us then was completely different and I was not cut out for it then or this ...whatever the hell this was. I simply turned and headed toward my room to leave him to go as he pleased. Disheartened with the fact I would not be having spectacular sex and would most likely wake up alone and with a headache, I stripped to my panties and slipped into bed. I tossed for what seemed like an eternity, curious if Daniello was still in my condo. His suitcase was still beside my bed so I knew at some point he would return. Unless he’d decided I really wasn’t worth the trouble and made a beeline for the door. And honestly, I wouldn’t blame him.
I was so fucked up.
He hadn’t advanced on me sexually the way he had our last meet. He hadn’t really tried. I pictured his naked body as he’d showered earlier and found myself writhing in bed. I tried to relax as the whiskey still coursed through me and in vain to drift away. Restlessness won as I wandered to my living room, slightly dazed to find him watching a silent CNN in my large lounger. I looked at the clock on my mantle and saw only an hour had passed since I’d attempted to fall asleep.
“You cannot sleep?” he asked, sensing my presence before I’d made it known. I kept my mouth shut as I circled his chair and saw his eyes light when he saw my dress, or lack thereof. I stood there motionless, waiting on any sign from him that this, me, was something he still wanted. Nearly naked and vulnerable for a man for the first time in years, I stood waiting on something, anything.
He gave me nothing as his dark eyes met my green.
Complete opposites, nothing in common, nothing to bond with but our shared bodies, I gave in to the one thing we both wanted.
My intention was clear as I watched him watch me. Nipples peaking and sex clenching, I slowly knelt in front of him as he lifted his hand to cup my chin, rubbing a smooth thumb over my parted lips. I pulled on his jeans after unfastening them and he lifted his hips to help me as his fat cock sprang free and stood proudly. I moaned and licked the tip of his thumb before diving to clench him between my lips. He let out a long puff of air as I sucked greedily, stroking every inch of him with my tongue. I looked up to watch his face tense and his dark eyes absorb my licks. I inhaled as his scent hit me, sucking harder, needing more of him, wanting more, craving his hands and his hunger. He gripped my hair hard and pushed me on him slightly in encouragement as he thrust his hips up and began to fuck my mouth. I felt the wetness slide out of me between my thighs and soak my panties as I swallowed him whole, willing him to come in my mouth. It wasn’t an apology, but it was as close as he was getting to one.
“Fucking mouth,” he hissed as he thrust his hips up hard before pulling me off of him and wrapping both hands around my neck, bringing me up to his waiting lips. We collided, tongues thrashing as I moaned into him, my bare breasts rubbing against his ready
and soaked cock. Still locked in a kiss, I felt him move to the edge of the recliner, his legs encasing me as I remained kneeling before him. Limbs burning with need, I gripped his length between us and stroked. He pulled out of our kiss and grabbed my hips, lifting me from my knees and turning me away from him. Bending me over slightly with his hands, he rid me of my panties. I stood, legs parted in breathless anticipation.
“Perfect,” he growled as his finger tested then entered me slowly. I was lost in sensation as he once again gripped my hips, easing me into his lap and onto his rock hard cock. I gasped at the feeling of fullness as he impaled me inch by inch. Once completely seated, I felt his breath on my neck before I felt his tongue as it traveled from my neck to below my ear. He reached between my thighs and adjusted us so I was leaning back slightly and began to stroke my clit in slow circles. I was gasping repeatedly at every new sensation as he then reached around with his free hand and stroked my nipple. Trapped in a world of complete bliss, I moaned loudly as he began to move his hips, prompting me to do the same. Placing my arms on the side of the recliner, I lifted myself up and ground my hips as I lowered, meeting Daniello’s solid thrusts.
Whimpering and so completely full, I rest my head against his shoulder as his solid cock stretched me.
“You fit me now, and no one else.” His voice was low and filled with threatening lust.
Unable to take all the sensation, I burst around him, gripping the hand on my clit and the one kneading my breast, encouraging them to move faster.
“But you are good at this,” he complimented of my earlier comment as he started moving again, ignoring the limpness in my spent body and fucking me ruthlessly. I gripped the back of his head as he moved us forward so my feet were planted firmly on the floor.
“Ride my cock, Taylor.”
I pushed off with my feet as his arms slid around my waist and gripped me tightly. Moving furiously on his lap, I wasted myself on his thick dick, appreciating the sound of the rumble in his chest that led to the growl in his throat. I dug my nails into the flesh of his thighs as I rocked against him, the buildup burning through me. Arms still wrapped around me, his hand slid down my now slick body, his fingers teasing my pulsing clit.
“Again,” he murmured to my back before biting down hard just as I gave into his demand.
“Oh ...fuck.” I detonated, washing us both in my orgasm. His grunt ripped through my body as I felt his dick harden and pulse out his release in hot spurts inside me.
In his tight embrace, I gained my wits and stiffened slightly. Sensing my retreat, he moved back on the recliner, taking me with him.
“Look at me,” he coaxed as I kept my head on his chest. “Taylor,” he warned, his thick accent covering my drying flesh in goose bumps. I braved a look at him and was completely captured when he gave me a small smile before claiming my lips in a kiss just as powerful as the one we’d shared before. Surprised and completely confused, I kissed him back with as much fervor.
Our bodies still connected, his arms around me, I dove into him, my hands in his thick hair, my body warming as he kept our mouths connected. When we separated, foreheads touching and breaths heavy and rapid, I sighed. He laughed.
“Did that please you?” I asked with sarcasm and a small smile, my breath still escaping me in quick spurts.
He bit his bottom lip and studied me. My sex pulsed as I watched his face lit only by the TV, but couldn’t read his expression.
He turned me in his lap so I faced him fully and stood. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he walked us to the bedroom.
He never answered me, but by the time the sun crept into my bedroom, I was pretty sure I got my reply.
I woke on my stomach, wrapped around an oversized pillow. Pushing the dried, sweaty red mess of hair off of my forehead, I turned to see I was again alone. It did little to stop the smile on my face.
In the shower, I went over my loss of control and the way I’d handled myself with Daniello. He might have found my lack of etiquette amusing, but I found it disgusting. Last night I’d lost order and to a complete stranger.
“Act like a lady, you’ll get treated like one.”
It had been years since I’d even thought of the voice that belonged to the man who had groomed me to become one of Tennessee’s finest debutants. Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I cleared my head until the image of him dispersed, forcing thoughts of Daniello and our night together to take their place.
Washing between my thighs, I felt the delicious ache, burning, and Daniello’s absence. He’d been gentle last night. I assumed he’d sensed my vulnerability. He was good at reading me and yet he’d commented more than once that I was acting like a crazy person. Pressing my forehead to the shower wall, I groaned in embarrassed agreement.
If having Daniello near me aided in helping me abandon my good sense, maybe the whole situation needed to end. At the same time, I was having way too much fun to stop our charade. In the end, it was up to me to get my shit together. This wasn’t about emotions or the possibility of falling in love. This was about him seeing behind more than a decade old façade and wanting to uncover what lay beneath.
And once again, it was up to me to make sure that the poor piece of Tennessee white trash lay dormant to the woman I’d evolved to. A force to be reckoned with, business owner, and woman of means.
“Keep it tight between the ears and between the legs and you become every man’s fantasy.”
“Ray,” I whispered as if anyone could hear me. It seemed all the ghosts of my pasts were making an appearance these days. While turning the shower off, I had expected ghost number three to show up in the reaper’s cloak and tell me to change my wicked ways before it was too late.
But this wasn’t a Christmas Carol, there was no tiny Tim, and the only family needing more compassion were whispers, images, face of my past that took residence with the rest of the ghosts in the audience while my life played out on the screen. I’d left them all behind, but it seemed these days I wasn’t trying hard enough.
It had been a few years since I’d thought of Ray Tyco. Turning off the shower, I wiped away the moisture from my skin and cleared a visible path across the mirror to take a good look at the woman across from me.
“If you intend to play with the big boys, kitten, you have to keep your emotions in check at all times. The only time a man show’s any sort of emotion in the business world is when he’s screwing or being screwed, and even then he may be hard pressed to reveal it. The world you are about to enter has no place for quivering lips and a weak mindset.”
I owed everything to that man, and yet he’d collected. He’d collected for years.
An involuntary shiver drifted down my spine as I gave myself a stern internal lashing.
Maybe it was thoughts of Laz and Ray or the fact that I knew it was time to try to reach out to Amber again. Either way, my past had nothing to do with my present, or my situation with Daniello.
I sat down on my couch and texted Cedric.
Me: It’s time.
Cedric: I’ll make the call.
The last time I’d seen Amber, I’d just graduated from Harvard. I was twenty-two and barely had enough money to get us by, but I was determined to try to get her away from my parents. My mother intercepted our reunion as Amber remained locked in our house, peeking out the window behind the same tattered curtain that I’d been forced to hit with a broom daily. Her face haunted me as it looked so much like my own, a younger and far more burdened version of myself.
The confrontation on the front porch that day had been a long time coming, and I recognized the fear in Amber’s eyes as she stared at me through the window. I hadn’t seen her in seven years but I could see the itch in her posture, the constant movement of her eyes from me to the front door. She was thinking of fleeing as my mother screamed at me in her meth induced state. Though I tried to barrel past her, she pushed me hard on my back and began tearing at my clothes. I managed to get her off me as I watched Amber fall apart
before my eyes, her indecision to leave showing in the agonizing look that painted her features. I’d gone back later that night to find her window nailed shut. My mother kept watch through the living room, pacing continually like a rabid guard dog to keep me at bay. She had her drugs to thank for her watch dog abilities.
Amber was fifteen then and as I looked at her through the window, I saw myself so clearly. The resemblance was uncanny. And also, I knew her life and I knew her need to escape. I wanted nothing more than to give it to her, and though I wasn’t exactly in the position to be a parent, I couldn’t help but linger.
I waited for her after school, as we’d agreed through hushed whispers through the window glass the night before, in vain. Maybe it was out of fear that she hadn’t shown, or maybe she resented me for leaving her all those years ago at my mother’s heavy hands. Either way, this time she’d left me. I’d waited for hours knowing she’d had a chance to break free at least once in the day and fought hard to respect her decision, though the urge to rip her away was debilitating.
Forced to leave town due to the danger of Laz finding out I had returned, I fled back to Boston, no closer to getting my sister out than I had been when I left. With me, she’d had a chance.
She’d never left Dyer, this much I’d found out through Cedric, who still kept up with a few people in town. She was now the same age that I was when I went to see her. I’d spent so many years buried in my career and working hard to get myself into a better situation, I’d abandoned her altogether.
I’d hoped she’d do the same for herself. I’d hope to have to track her down one day and find her married, happy, and successful. What burdened me was the fact that she hadn’t left, which almost guaranteed all my hopes for her were for nil. Dyer wasn’t a place to build a life. It lacked life, lacked oxygen, period. The town was a dead end cloud of dust that could only suffocate you.
And I was sure my future would bring me back to it sooner rather than later. I jumped on my couch, deep in thought as my phone vibrated.
Camouflage (Predator and Prey #1) Page 8