“I’m fine.”
God damn it. I roll my neck to keep from saying something shitty. This girl is going to fucking kill me. I squat down and yank the handle open. Forcing her to twist her crossed legs, giving me a peek at more of her smooth thigh. I unfold the gray cover and drape the fabric across her. Still unwilling to meet my eyes but at least she doesn’t kick me in the balls when I stand up.
“Thank you Luciano.”
The hollowness in her tone almost undoes me. I can’t fucking stand her hating me. Even though I fucking deserve worse. “I hope you don’t plan on acting like this the entire trip.”
“Well, I hope you don’t plan on acting like a huge jerk for the rest of your life.”
Jerk. Sweet hell, this woman is so naïve. That’s the saddest fucking insult I’ve ever heard. I can’t but help laugh.
“Please…” Until her quivering voice catches. “…Just leave me alone.”
She turns away, laying the side of her head against the leather. So I don’t see her cry.
I would fucking kill any other man who treated her this way. I’m a fucking bastard who doesn’t deserve any less. Fuck. I drop down to the table between the benches. “I've tried. God, I've fucking tried. But I just can’t seem to let you go.”
“You’re…”
Too innocent to say the curse words she should. So, I do it instead. “A stupid fucking bastard.”
She remains silent yet doesn’t flinch when I curl my fingers over hers. “And just like you. I’ve never done this before.”
Disgust darkens her face even more, and she shakes her head. Long hair rustling against the head rest from her ferocity. Done with my stupid ass, she jerks her hand from underneath mine. Angles her body away from me even more to look out the window. I guess clouds of nothingness are better than my ugly face. “I don’t mean sex. I mean love.”
The blanket billows from her shudder like I’ve touched her. Not her skin but her heart. Maybe piercing a tiny bit through the wall she built protecting herself from me. Damn, why does this have to be so fucking hard? “I’ve never loved anyone or wanted anyone to love me.”
Her defense softens just a bit more. Yet she doesn’t turn around. Probably still thinks my words are lame bullshit just like they sound to my own ears. Although the sentiment is truer than I ever thought possible. Or thought I could admit. “I want that now. With you. But I don’t know how.”
For the first time ever, in my whole fucking fucked up life, I don’t know what to do. What else to say. To make her believe me. To bring her back to me. So I wait. Helpless. Pathetic. Miserable.
A small sigh escapes her mouth. “You’re just so confusing. I never know who I’m going to have to deal with. Sometimes it’s this Luciano. The one who’s gentle and generous to me and such a good dad to Eli.”
No one has ever thought I was good. Slaying me that she believes I am. Even more shocking that she thinks I’m suitable father for my little brother.
“Or sometimes it’s sexy Luciano.” Pink flushes her cheeks and her voice drops. “Who makes me feel sexy and beautiful and wanted more than any man ever has before.”
God, I fucking love that I make her feel that way. Exactly how it should be. Only me.
“But then there’s cruel, vindictive Luciano…” A sob bubbles out and her eyes squeeze shut. Unwilling to face me. “…which scares me so much that someone I love hurts me more than I think I can recover from.”
God fucking damn. She loves me. Fucking amazing after the hell I’ve put her through, that I haven’t managed to completely destroy her feelings for me. I can barely hear her broken voice but the anguish rings through clearly.
“The pain Hunter caused me is nothing compared to what you do to me.” She jerks around, more despondent than I’ve ever seen her, gripping my coat sleeves with tiny fists. Huge eyes flickering with fear while she shakes me. “If you don’t want me, then please leave me alone. I’m begging you. I can’t take it anymore. I don’t know if this is just some sick game you’re playing with me or what. But you’ve got to stop hurting‒.”
Fucking motherfucker. She thinks I'm worse than fucking Hunter. I've got to fucking fix this. I yank her to me. Holding her stiff body while she sobs. From the torture I’ve put her through. From the agony I’ve inflicted on her delicate heart. Which fucking ends now. I caress her head, whispering into her silky hair. “It’s not a game.”
“I just want to take care of Eli. I love him, and I can’t lose him.”
She trembles in my embrace. Her body so small and fragile smashed against my pounding chest. “You won’t. I promise. I’m sorry, I just…”
What? Can’t get my shit together? Don’t like to admit my weakness? Find it impossible to believe that she wants me as much as I want her?
“Please don’t fire me. I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t make me leave Eli.”
Her sobs ratchet up to hysteria. I’ve pushed her too fucking far, and I’ve got to bring her back. She has to know I will never use him or sex as a weapon.
My hands fly to her cheeks, cupping the heated skin, and I force her to look at me. “I swear to God I will never fucking make you do anything to stay with Eli. Do you understand?”
All she can do is nod from crying so hard.
“You don’t owe me a damn thing, and regardless of what happens between me and you, you don’t ever have to worry about me keeping Eli from you.”
A tortured whimper blows between our lips. So close I can almost fucking taste the strawberry from her gloss. “Really?”
“Yes.”
I don’t blink. Or stutter. Or soften. She has to believe I fucking mean it. I may be a fucking bastard, but this is a vow I’ll keep to my death.
Slender shoulders droop with relief and her forehead tips to mine. But I’m not fucking finished. I have so much more I need to say. So much I need to ask.
With one obstacle out of the way, I must tackle the next. Yet, this challenge won’t be as easy. I’ve got nothing to offer her to make her believe me. To trust in my commitment. Except for my absolute sincerity. “I’ve fucked up so fucking bad.” Fucking killing my ego to be at the mercy of someone else. But I should have fucking admitted it to myself a long time ago. This woman holds my balls in a vise and always will. “Even though I don’t deserve it, I’m asking you to give me another chance. I want to prove to you that I won’t hurt you anymore. That I can make you happy.”
“I want to, but I’m scared.”
White noise envelopes us. The air thick and empty here in this fucking multi-million dollar jet. With the pilots hidden inside their cockpit, it feels like we’re alone in a timeless space. So far away from everyone else. Like the world below could have disappeared. Floating in the freedom of ambiguity. That I’m not a mob king. Or a ruthless businessman. Or a heartless killer.
Just a man. With the woman he loves more than himself. “I know. I am too.”
My admission elicits a soft laugh. A half-lifted cheek from an idea that seems so absurd. Her gaze sweeps over my huge body, wide shoulders, thick neck. I happen to be a big guy, but physical strength is all I have over her. She somehow controls everything else.
“What do you have to be afraid of?”
Her long hair is baby smooth against my skin as I loop a strand around my finger. “You.”
“Me?”
A beautiful blush creeps over her face. Lust igniting between us again from her whisper. I slide next to her on the bench and wrap my hands around her tiny waist. Effortlessly twisting her to straddle me. Knees digging into the leather on each side of me as my cock comes to life underneath her sweet ass.
The bottom of her dress bunches around the tops of her toned thighs that I can’t fucking wait to have wrapped around me. Stifling a moan from the heart-covered red fabric peeking out that covers her gorgeous pink pussy. Never has anything felt more right than her in my arms, body tucked into mine. A genuine smile enhancing her delicate beauty.
She forgives me.<
br />
“I won’t fuck this up any more.” I tug her closer, needing more. “You’ll never have to deal with asshole Luciano again.”
Her left eyebrow lifts. Not buying my bullshit at all. “Well, not very much.”
Laughter shakes her body while she presses her lips to mine. Slender arms wrap around my neck, and my hands caress her torso. All of the anguish evaporates from my taut muscles from the feel of her cool skin under my fingertips. Fucking sexy as hell in this backless dress. Which she needs to fucking cover with a jacket or something.
The humor fades away as her tiny kisses grow more urgent. Welcoming my tongue thrusting in her mouth. Her nipples pebbling through the thin purple fabric and brushing against my shirt. Hips tensing, squeezing me harder in painful pleasure.
I could take her so fucking easily. Indulge my traitorous cock urging me to slip off her panties and plunge inside. Listen to the greedy voice in my head demanding to own her. Now.
But, I can’t. Not like this.
Breaking away, I cup her face and smile to eliminate the uncertainty clouding her expression. “Tonight, I’m going to make love to you the way you deserve.”
Fuck me when her tongue darts out to lick her lips, and she swallows hard. A small nod confirms her agreement. Testing my resolve. Making me question my will power and my god damn fucking sanity for waiting.
“Okay.”
Just one word to make my pussy ass heart gloriously happy. My dick's pretty stoked too. "Okay."
Now her face shines with joy too when I slide her bracelet out of my jacket pocket and wrap the strand of diamonds around her delicate wrist. Back where the jewelry belongs and will forever remain.
"Thank you."
Satin skin shivers under my lips when I kiss the back of her hand. Wait until she hears what else I've got to tell her. Then I'll definitely earn more than an innocent peck on the cheek. “I have another surprise for you.”
Her head tilts in question. Relaxed and untroubled. Simply exquisite in her curiosity. “What?”
“How would you like to meet Shae Armstrong?”
She lights up like the sun. Eyes as wide as her mouth. “The singer? Are you kidding?”
“Nope. She’ll be at our dinner tonight. She’s married to Nick DeMarco, my business partner.”
“Oh wow! I love her music. I can’t believe I’m going to her house.” An ecstatic squeal erupts from her throat. “Thank you! I’m so excited!”
She engulfs me in a huge hug. Her head tucking under my neck. Peace filling me from her excitement. I've finally done something that makes her completely happy. No strings attached or underlying deceit. Just like I will continue to do from now on. “Me too. It’s going to be a great night.”
12
Chapter Twelve
Delicate fingers wrap around my forearm. Shaking the black fabric with her enthusiasm. I fucking love seeing her so excited without any doubts about me - about us - dampening her anticipation. She can enjoy her dinner now, and we'll both savor our dessert later.
DeMarco's house is impressive. Wrought iron gates slide open, and the SUV Nick had waiting for us at the airport, slowly winds up the driveway. Mounted cameras rotate, tracking every turn of the wheels, while his men stand at the ready, flanking each side of the huge wooden front doors. Which open as soon as we park between the flower beds overflowing with a rainbow of colors.
She tucks in close to me after I help her out of the backseat. Not sure if it's from our renewed connection or uncertainty from the guards overseeing our every step. Confidence from their obvious skills and hidden weapons palpable in their self-assured demeanor. They don't have a damn thing to prove.
Neither do I. Although I prefer my security a bit more inconspicuous. But after the rumors I've heard of the attacks on his wife from his own fucking inner circle, I can see why he's overzealous with protection. I curl Molly even closer, and scan the men again. No one is excluded from my suspicion. Or hers, from the questions lining her expression as we hustle inside.
Another suit greets us in the foyer. A practiced smile and a brief nod to Molly before he focuses on me.
"Welcome Mr. Ellison." He holds out a wooden box, lifting the bronze lid. "This is a family evening, sir, with Mrs. DeMarco and the baby here. No weapons allowed."
A test to prove my commitment to this evening as well as the deal. I have no reason to doubt DeMarco. We're joining forces to destroy a common enemy. Yet uneasiness still swells in my gut. It's one thing to take a chance with myself but totally unacceptable with Molly. Fuck me if I ever do anything again to hurt her.
She watches me, trepidation darkening her previously excited expression. These little suggestions must weigh on her that tonight is more than just a meal and the opportunity to meet her favorite singer. That the world I've pulled her into might be more dangerous than just obsessive security for the wealthy elite. Doubt chipping away at the foundation I’ve laid. I can't let that fucking happen.
I give him a curt nod and slide out my Glock. Laying the gun on the black velvet, I wink at her. No big deal baby girl. Her shy smile returns, relief smoothing her gorgeous face. I'm a lucky bastard.
I lift my arms and spread my legs, letting him frisk me. Satisfied I'm unarmed, he steps back and turns to Molly.
"Miss?"
One request past my limit. Even if it pisses off DeMarco and destroys our agreement. I don't give a fucking damn. No one lays a finger on my woman. "You touch her, and I'll break your motherfucking hands."
His steely gaze meets mine. Not used to taking orders from anyone except his boss. But, when it comes to her, I am the boss.
He acquiesces to my threat, shaking his blond head. "Women and children are always off limits - Mr. DeMarco's rules."
Something else Nick and I can agree on. Her small hand curls around my bicep. Squeezing to calm my anger. Reassuring me that she knows I'll fucking protect her to the death. "It's fine Luciano. Let's just have a nice evening."
My gaze slides from his to press my lips against her temple. The only affection I'll ever allow him to witness. We follow him through the living room, my stomach growling from the sharp scent of ginger wafting through the air from the huge kitchen to the left. An older bald man stands at the stove, swiping his forehead with the back of his hand, while a bored looking brunette woman sits at the kitchen table slicing oranges as big as my fist. Definitely not Nick and Shae.
The goon escorting us pauses at the French doors. Finally the end of our unwarranted and unwelcome supervision. Another huge man hustles toward us, with a friendlier sentiment on his face. A gurgling baby fills his left arm while he extends his right hand to me, then Molly.
"Nice to finally meet you in person, Luc, Molly. I'm Nick, and this is Evie."
He bounces the infant a few times, and she giggles before falling shy, twisting back to his chest and rubbing her forehead on his shoulder. Cute kid. Even better is the longing in Molly's eyes, which plays perfectly into my plan. Her goal may be to graduate next May and find a position that allows her to still care for Eli. Which I totally support. With a few adjustments of course. Sure she'll accept her diploma but as my wife, carrying my baby when she crosses the stage. She'll never have to work or want for anything. Fucking guaranteed.
Nick beckons to one of the most naturally beautiful women I've ever seen. Not because I'm a fucking asshole ogling another man's wife, but because it's true. She pauses in tucking blocks into a pink basket sitting on a huge lounge chair. A black and tan German Shepherd hops up, matching each of her steps, and positioning himself between us and her once she reaches Nick's side. The dog sits from Nick's snap, but doesn't leave his guard at her feet.
"This is my wife Shae." A possessive hand slides around her waist that I totally respect. Smart men protect what's theirs. Even smarter men kill for it. Which I know he most definitely has. "Sweetness, this is Luc and Molly."
Unexpected hugs to each of us. Must be an L.A. thing. "Welcome. It's a pleasure to meet both of you."
>
This could totally be awkward. The weird uncertainty lingering after introductions are made, especially when small talk is not one of my best skills. Add to that a beyond-famous rock star, I’m already antsy to finalize the details and jet. Surprisingly it's not that uncomfortable. Shae seems like a genuinely nice person, and Molly pulsing like firecrackers under my hand on her back, eases some of my impatience.
"I'm a huge fan. I've been to one of your concerts but I never dreamed I would ever get to meet you in person."
"Which concert was it?"
"Chicago, five years ago." Molly's laugh bubbles out with a refreshing innocence as she shakes her head from the memory. "I was a junior in high school, and my friends and I got tickets even though my parents said we were too young to drive into the city by ourselves. We snuck out and got caught, of course. But it was so worth it."
What the fuck? My angel has a naughty streak. A nice little discovery I can't wait to explore more in-depth.
Shae giggles too and her hands fly to her cheeks. "Oh no! I hope you didn't get in too much trouble."
"Grounded for a month. But we were the coolest kids in school for way longer than that."
"I love it!" Molly's smile lifts to nuclear levels when Shae links their arms together. "Come on, let's get you a drink."
It takes a hell of a fucking lot to impress me. But, the exhilaration rolling through Molly from the pop star's sincere generosity releases the last of the tension tightening my muscles. She's happy, so I'm happy. It's that fucking simple.
They wander over to the expansive outdoor kitchen, luxurious enough to include a fully stocked wet bar and huge grill. Although I love my city, living like this would be fucking easy too. Definitely have to bring Molly back to the beach tomorrow as much as she keeps breathing in the salty air, her gaze lingering on the pink and orange horizon.
Straight, No Chaser: A Mafia Alpha Bad Boy Romance Page 10