Luckily, the casual vibe continues through dinner. Leisurely conversation while they feed us spring rolls and wantons, glazed salmon, sesame noodles, and stir fried vegetables. Molly's fingers entwine with mine while she chats with Shae, always smiling when she glances at me.
The brunette from the kitchen keeps our plates and glasses full, and all her attention on Nick. Which he seems oblivious to. A brush of his hand when she removes his appetizer dish. A wink when she refills his wine. Pissing me off that he never addresses her audacity because I know he's not that obtuse. Unless he welcomes her advances. Which will end our fucking deal in a fucking heartbeat. I don't have any fucking tolerance for a cheating bastard.
My appetite disappears completely when she slips a note into his place setting as she sets down the dessert platter. Fucking asshole slides the paper into his pocket. Done. I'm fucking done. Time to get the fuck out of here. I'll fight this fucking war by my god damn self.
Refusing to upset his wife, I fucking force myself to bite back my disgust when he rises, collecting his daughter with him from her high chair. He kisses the top of Shae's head, who looks up at him with complete adoration.
"Let Gil and his team take care of things. You relax and enjoy your dessert with Molly. I'll keep Evie with me while Luc and I talk."
Seemingly sincere. She gives him a patient smile. Like she's used to his overbearing concern. And, maybe his fucking cheating ass.
"Okay, thank you."
Why the fuck am I taking this so personal? I don't even really fucking know these people. Who the fuck am I to care if he plays around on his wife.
But it's too much of a fucking reminder of my mother. And Harper. All my father's wives. I refuse to be that man. Not to Molly. Who gives me a similar doting expression when I stand that Shae bestowed upon Nick. Contented and devoted. Without any doubts. Making me hope like a pussy for the same depth of love I have for her. I brush her cheek with my lips and whisper in her ear, "Have fun."
She nods, another huge grin gracing her gorgeous face. I'll let her have this night before I tell this asshole our agreement is dead before it even started.
Nick gestures to the doors, leading us into the mansion.
"Give me one minute and then we can talk."
Hardness rings through his deep voice. Maybe even anger. All the gentleness reserved for his wife vanished. Except the protective arm around his daughter, her tiny hand gripping the back of his polo as he strides inside.
He storms into the kitchen and tosses the unread paper onto the granite. The smugness slides off the waitress's face when she meets his gaze.
"I don't know what the fuck this is supposed to be. But, I will not tolerate anyone disrespecting my wife. Get your shit and get the fuck out of my house."
Finished with her, DeMarco spins toward the wide-eyed man whose gaze ping pongs between the trembling woman and Nick. "I trusted you Gil. I expected you to vet the people you bring into my home. You may be here because of Shae, but you'll leave because of me. Do I make myself clear?"
"Y-yes sir."
DeMarco hustles down the hallway, his head still shaking. Once inside the office, he pours us both small tumblers of whiskey. One of my favorite brands. At $800 a bottle, the guy's not cheap. Or stingy. Just deadly and fucking faithful. I like him even more.
"Sorry about that. I don't know what the fuck's wrong with people sometimes. Like I'd ever fucking cheat on Shae."
I get it. I totally fucking get it. We may be dicks but we can think with something else most of the time.
Nodding, I drop down into one of his leather visitor chairs. Not as worn as his sofa or the desk. Interesting. Probably fucks his wife there. Need to add that to my list for Molly. My body tightens at the thought. I need to make her mine and take her everywhere. Eliminate any doubt that another woman could ever have my head or my heart.
His huge fingers curl around his daughter’s ear, and he kisses her on the forehead. “Sorry sweet baby. Don’t tell your momma.”
Unaffected by his outburst, she stretches for the computer as soon as he sits down and positions her facing outward on his lap. Happily banging away on the keyboard while we get back to business.
"Creed's a fucking sick bastard, through and through. Women and children are his favorite weapons for control and revenge. I'll have my house on lock down and my best guys on Shae and Evie while we're gone." He nods toward the glass door, where on the other side the girls relax safely on the deck, unaware of the risks we're planning. "I suggest you do the same for Molly and your baby brother."
I should be fucking offended by this guy's arrogance. Who the fuck is he trying to fucking give me advice. But for some reason it doesn't bother me as much as it normally would. Probably because I know it comes from a place of fear. Just like mine.
Life would be worthless if anything happened to either of them. Just like I know it would be for him if he lost his wife or daughter. "I'm going to send them to her parents' farm in the boonies. With my most trusted guards. They'll be safe."
"Good." His eyes still hold uncertainty. Both of us fully aware, once the ambush ends, that the real threats begin. It's never over. "When you get up and running, let me know if you need my help. I only ask for no hindrances to my distribution routes. My teams have free reign of their routes without interference."
"Agreed."
Funny how reasonable two fucking criminals can be. Like were talking about fucking pizza delivery. But his story is the same as mine — bred and groomed to succeed our fathers. No choice in the matter, our fates decided before we were even born. Now we live with the consequences. And hope the people we love survive along with us. Both physically and mentally.
Escalating fear tangles in my gut. Molly doesn’t know who I am or what I do. Yet. With the danger lurking and security increasing, the truth may no longer be a secret. “How does Shae deal with all of this? I mean, she’s in the public eye. Doesn’t she question why she can’t go out or why your guys are all over her when she does?”
A deep sigh ruffles the baby’s curly hair, and he slumps back in his seat, watching her attempt to manipulate the decorative globe he cups in his hand.
“She puts up with a hell of a lot. Sometimes I’m not even sure why. She never complains. But I try my damnedest to never fuck up bad enough to make her want to leave. I almost lost her once, and I won’t do it again.”
My own worst fucking nightmare. I shake my head, matching his own disgust. A reminder that we can’t control this fucking world or their fragile hearts. Both of us at the mercy of these gentle women who have the power to break the most powerful men in the country. A risk I’m more than willing to take to keep her and make her mine.
A little bit tipsy and a whole lot star struck, Molly’s gorgeous eyes flame even brighter as she climbs onto my lap once I slide into the backseat after her. Fuck me. She’s stunning. And making my dick so fucking hard it hurts.
“I had a great time. Thank you for bringing me.”
I’m a fucking lucky bastard that she conveniently forgets I forced her. Still not sure what I would have done if she had really denied me. The trip. Or herself. “Me too.”
“Now we have the rest of the night together. Just you and me.”
Her hands slip under my jacket. Caressing over my racing heart before fisting the linen to pull me closer. A few hesitant kisses brush against my lips before she slides her tongue inside. She has no fucking idea what she does to me when she sheathes her body to mine. Urgent and so fucking hot, stoking an inferno all the way to my balls.
I want her. God do I fucking want her so bad. I could slide into her right now and let her ride me all the way to the hotel. But that’s not what I promised. Not what she deserves. “Unless you want me to rip those panties off your gorgeous pussy and fuck you right in this car, you've got to stop grinding on me like that.”
Maybe it's the alcohol flowing through her soft body but lust darkens her eyes as a small purr groans in her throat. Baby girl lik
es the dirty talk. Then I've got to fucking give her what she wants.
“I thought you liked me kissing you.”
Innocent. Too fucking innocent. “I do. But you make it hard for me to be a gentleman.”
“That’s not a bad thing, is it?”
“Not if you want him to hear me fuck you.” I grip her chin as she starts to turn her head toward the driver. “Because once I’m inside you, he’ll hear you screaming my name through the partition.”
A little gasp follows a huge shudder. Anticipation just as strong as mine. Her gaze locks with mine while I slide off the little sweater I forced her to put on. Goosebumps rise on her ivory skin when I trace over her bare shoulder. My lips follow my fingertips and her body arches, shoving her sweet tits closer to my mouth. I kiss the tops, knowing how dangerous it would be to dip any lower. “Fuck me, angel. You are so fucking glorious.”
“Why do you always call me that?”
A playful tone to her voice that I can't pretend doesn't have more meaning behind it. She wants to know. What makes her different. What makes her special. What drove me to choose her. Totally unaware that it wasn't a choice. I can't be without her. Ever again. “You don’t like it?”
“I do. It’s just…you have that room…downstairs." Slender shoulders hunch under my hands. Her body drifts away, along with her mind as doubt takes root. Weeds of uncertainty smothering the trust budding between us."You like that…kind of stuff. That...I...don't do.”
Fuck. As much as I was hoping I could avoid this conversion, even I'm not stupid enough to realize it wasn't inevitable. I just want to fuck her. Marry her. Fill her womb with my babies and live a gloriously happy life with her in my bed and by my side. That's enough for me.
But that's not enough for her. Especially before she can completely give herself to me. Before she can have confidence in her decision that I'm the one. Which is humbling and fucking terrifying at the same damn time.
"Maybe I can't give you what you need."
Fuck that. She's exactly what I need, and she has to understand it. No hesitation. So fucking dumb to think we'd made it past the uncertainty from our conversation on the plane. We're there now. At the tipping point for her real decision. For her to really accept me. Us. Not out of obligation or fear. But because she wants more with me. As much as I want with her.
I don’t have the luxury of stuttering and choose my words so fucking carefully. “That’s Ty’s playroom. Ty is into that lifestyle.”
“You aren’t?”
"No."
"But you were, right? Ty told me...before you used to..."
My pulse throbs in my pounding head. He wouldn't fuck up and tell her about Rachael. But I don't know what other stupid bullshit my fucking asshole brother could have said. "What?"
"That you both...together you'd..."
Unable to say the words, she hides from me. Rolling my tie around her finger. Over and over. The blue silk yo-yo's up and down with only a hint of her purple fingernail peeking out. Keeping the space between us that I need to close. "Some girls want to be dominated. But that's not sexy to me."
"It's not?"
I totally get her real question embedded in her words. That maybe what she offers isn't what I desire. What I survive for. “No. I don’t want to hold you back with handcuffs or whips.” Sliding my hands under her chin, I lift her head. Forcing her timid gaze to see my confidence. "I want to watch you fucking fly.”
“In your bed?”
My dick screams from her whisper. “In everything.” She comes alive again, her body tips closer, her cheek nuzzling my palm. “You don’t have to be anything but yourself to make me happy. That's all I want from you.”
"Me too."
Her fingers tap the muscle shielding my pounding heart. Warming my skin even through my shirt.
"See? This is the real Luciano. The man I know that's inside of here. That's what I want from you."
Just like I promised, from now on, that's who she'll always get. Even if the real me isn't who she thinks I am. I fucking swear I'll only show her the version of me she can love. Will love. "Always."
So as good Luciano, I help her out of the SUV. Tuck her small hand into mine as I lead her through the parking garage and inside the lobby. Force myself not to put a bullet between the eyes of the desk clerk whose lips curl into a knowing smirk when I tell him we aren't to be disturbed. Not bite her nipples through her sheer dress while my hands slide up her skirt on the elevator like I normally would a woman I'm getting ready to fuck.
Instead, I mimic her delirious smile. Stroke over the thin silver belt circling her waist as I nestle her back to my chest. Nuzzling her neck while we wait for the brushed metal doors to glide apart. Caressing her delicate fingers while we stroll to the suite.
The perfect gentleman.
Until I close the door.
Because I want to fully appreciate my angel before I ravish her.
"Oh look! Champagne!"
An ornate cheese and fruit tray sits next to the black bottle. Tendrils of smoke still wisp from the neck. A lavish spread covers the table that I'd love to shove off and lay her down to savor instead. She taps her flute against mine before taking a long sip. Gorgeous eyes sinking shut as she enjoys her drink. Fucking amazing watching her face flush with pleasure. Which I'm going to fucking love giving her more of tonight until she's spent.
Unable to hold back a second longer, I set down my glass. As lame as it sounds, I feel like I've waited my whole fucking life for this moment. To make love to this woman who's going to be my wife. The mother of my children. My entire fucking universe.
Greedy to seduce her, I lick across her bare shoulders, her skin like velvet under my tongue. Tasting as fucking sweet as she smells. She trembles under my lips as I kiss down her spine, more and more of her smooth back exposed to me as I glide open the zipper. Overcome, her flute slips from shaking fingers, tumbling to the floor when my hands stroke under the glittery straps, sliding them down her arms to expose her naked breasts.
I may not know shit about how these push up dresses work, but when they get me to her incredible tits so easily, I'm going to buy her a fucking thousand of them. I cup the heavy mounds, overflowing in my hands, stroking the supple flesh again and again closer to her dark pink nipples. Torpedoed with desire. I swear to fucking god the nubs pulse for me, her body arching to follow my strokes, Whimpering with a strangled moan the moment my thumb brushes over them.
"Luciano."
Her tortured voice explodes like fireworks through my blood, lifting my heart, swathing my cock, and tingling my aching balls. An instant addiction I'll never be able to overcome. I've got to do whatever it fucking takes to get her to make that sound again.
I snake down her trembling stomach. Prolonging her anticipation by teasing over each rib, palming her hip bones bucking forward of their own accord. Her head lolls back against my chest. Rustling the lapels with her shuddered breaths.
"Are you wet angel?"
"Y-yes. For you."
Jesus.
She's fucking sexy as hell without even realizing it. Owning me with her innocence and her desire. "Only for me. No one ever touches you here again but me."
Before she can respond, I breach her tiny panties and with agonizingly slow strokes, trail through the arousal coating her silky folds. Another mewl bubbles deep in her throat. But even fucking better, no stiffening or pulling away from my fingers circling her throbbing clit. Proof she trusts me. Freely and Completely. And I fucking refuse to ever break her faith in me. Or my touch.
Which makes me crave her even more. I step back, already fucking missing her sweet body pulsing under my hands. "Take them off."
Long hair glides up and down her creamy skin as she nods. Blond strands fluttering forward as she slides her delicate fingers under the strings and tugs the heart covered silk over the swell of her hips and down her toned legs. She steps out of them and the lavender fabric pooled at her feet, and turns around to face me.
Naked. Wearing only her heels.
Fuck. Me. Hard.
I almost fucking explode like a teenager from her tentative smile, unaware how unbelievably incredible she is. My head bobs involuntarily, beyond humbled this gorgeous woman stands before me. Seeking my approval of her. Of the bounty she offers me.
I can't help but take it all in. "Let me look at you."
Circling around her, I fight every instinct to yank down my own zipper and work my hungry cock. This is about her. Only she touches me tonight.
Stepping into her space, sharing the same breaths, I repeat the question I asked her the first time she bared herself to me. Hopeful tonight she has the answer. For herself and for me. "Tell me what you like. What do you want?"
Hoarseness deepens my voice. Thick with need that doesn't get past her. Desire flames in her eyes as they bore into mine. Impressing me with her confidence.
"You."
I'm reduced to thinking with only my other head. That needs out of my pants and inside her. "Bed. Now."
But she shakes her head. A sly smile playing on her lips.
"Not yet." Her fingers pick at the knot of my tie, much higher than where they need to be on my hungry body. "Your turn."
She releases me, hands twitching against her narrow waist. Waiting with a cocked eyebrow. Challenging me to deny her demands.
Fuck me, she's fucking glorious. A satisfied chuckle escapes my throat. I knew she was fucking perfect.
Fine. I'll give her what she wants. But it won't be as slow and beautiful as her show for me. I yank off my jacket and split open my shirt. Buttons bounce across the carpet, some of them settling in the champagne puddled on the white nylon. After kicking off my shoes, I jerk down my slacks, boxer briefs, and socks in one swift movement and toss them at her feet.
Now we're equal. Toe to toe. Naked. Desperate. Ready.
Reaching for me first, purple tipped fingers stroke over my pecs, flicking my nipples. Feels fucking amazing. But not what I want right now. Not what I fucking need.
Straight, No Chaser: A Mafia Alpha Bad Boy Romance Page 11