I almost didn’t want her to come. I wanted to save it so I could feel it, feel her body pulsing around my dick, pulling me under with her, but I had all night. As she cried out my name and pulled her fingers through my hair, I let all my filthy words and plans boil beneath the surface.
“Oh god,” she cried out.
I nipped her clit and ran my finger down her ass, gently applying pressure, intensifying her orgasm. “Bennett.” She was breathless, her legs hanging limply over the edge of my bed. I stood, and while I watched her catch her breath, I undressed. The calm, still, silence raged as her eyes fell across my body. There wasn’t time for her to fully recover. I took my cock in my hand and stroked up and down, once, and then again; her eyes growing wide as she watched. Her cheeks turned the deepest red I’d seen so far.
“You like to watch?” I asked, my voice thick. She didn’t answer and that pleased me.
She licked her lips and I tightened my grip. This quiet, demure woman was sprawled out on my bed, her eyes locked on me, my body, and my hand as I stroked up and down my length. She loved to watch. Selene’s lips parted and her blush fell all the way down her chest as she squirmed. The flat plane of her stomach and those fucking hips, they began to tremble with need. I groaned as I thought about how good it would feel to have her seated on my cock, rolling her hips, taking in every inch. The muscles in my stomach tightened, and I clenched my jaw.
I was so close.
“Don’t come.” Her eyes locked on mine. Her plea was what I wanted.
“Why?” I growled. So fucking close.
The pupils in her eyes were fully dilated. Her breasts were full and heavy, and the thought of pulling her nipple through my teeth almost made me forfeit this game. She cast her eyes down. Perfect.
“I want to… I want to make you come, Bennett.”
I slowed my pace waiting for the answer I desired.
“Why, Selene?”
“It should be me... always me.” The words spilled from her shaking lips.
My mouth ached to still those lips, to feel her wrapped around me.
“You’re right.”
Those two words caused a quiet breath to escape her as I slowly moved in her direction.
He didn’t hesitate. He lifted me by the waist and crawled onto the bed, moving us both back into the middle of the mattress; his strength surprised me. He was beautiful like this. The hard plane of his chest, the dark ink of his tattoo, his flawless stomach, I was seeing him, just him, for the first time, and it was powerful. The muscles in his arms flexed as he held himself over me. His brown eyes met mine, setting me on fire, making my stomach flip with excitement. He brought his hand to my cheek and kissed me with tender lips.
I could feel his arousal; the tip positioned just at my entrance, teasing me. I wanted to move my hips, show him I was ready, but I knew he wouldn’t want me to. This was his night and I didn’t want to take away from that. I’d never really given over all my control in any aspect of my life. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to with him, but, he did things to my body and my brain. I wanted him to have me, to make me fall to pieces, and I wasn’t going to feel bad about it. His kiss, once tender, now bruised, his teeth pulling at the flesh of my lips. The sensation caused me to groan, and just as I was going to take a breath, he pushed fully into my body with one… long… stroke. I moaned loudly as my body adjusted to him.
Bennett pulled out and the emptiness threatened to drown me. Again, without hesitation, he filled me with all he had. Each time he entered me, it was as if he was trying to dig deeper. My body clenched, bracing itself for his punishment. It felt fucking amazing. Each hit took my breath away; each grunt he owned with his mouth smothered and burned, and I loved it. The heels of my boots dug into his skin and I worried it might hurt him, but the tighter I gripped, the harder he fucked me and the closer I came to being torn wide open.
I could feel it in my stomach, in my chest, and as his rhythm became less measured, more heated, I knew we both were about to fall. His lips were on my neck, his teeth nipped my jaw, and when his forehead rested against mine and our eyes locked— I was gone, gone to him, to the moment. The guttural sound that spilled from my lips as I came made Bennett’s jaw compress. I felt him pulse inside of me and I tightened my legs around his hips, pulling him so deep it almost hurt. He growled against my lips; his mouth moved against mine, seeking out my taste with his tongue as I felt the warmth of his release.
The weight of his body on top of mine felt just as I hoped it would. His smell surrounded me, our bodies both slick with perspiration. My thighs ached, and the burn of his kiss was on my skin. I felt utterly spent.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, and I giggled. His question threw me for a loop. It was such a normal question, and, in this moment, I felt anything but normal.
“I am.” My eyes flicked to his. They were lit with a sly humor and it made me smile. “You look… happy.”
“I am.”
“You are?”
He nodded and rolled his body so he was now lying next to me propped up on his elbow. His fingertips traced lines down my chest, across my breast, and over my nipple, making me shudder. “Should we get you out of those boots?” His grin was devious, and I laughed.
“I might need some sustenance first.” I smirked and he brought his thumb to my mouth; the pad of it trailed across the top lip and then pulled down on the bottom lip before he kissed me again. The motion so deliberate, it caused the pulse between my legs to beat again.
He pulled away from me and moved off the bed. He stood and offered me his hand; I took it. “If I feed you, will you stay with me tonight?”
I nodded once. He helped me up, and instead of feeling insecure standing in only a pair of borrowed boots, I felt beautiful. “Maybe a shower first, though?”
“Anything you need, Selene… it’s yours.”
I slipped on a pair of sweats and stepped out of the bedroom to make the call I’d been avoiding for the past two days. I’d just laid out one of my Yankees T-shirts and a pair of sweats and left them on the bed for Selene. She was still in the shower, and I wanted to get this off my mind before she got out. I’d had her again under the warmth of the water, but instead of hard or hurried, I took her slow and soft. I took my time, washing her, discovering her, easing myself inside her — truly feeling her. She was working her way into my life and under my skin.
My phone was on the kitchen counter where I’d left it. I had a missed text from Gage. I exhaled a long sigh. I wasn’t ready for his persistence, but when he wanted something, he didn’t have the patience to wait for it. It was one of the reasons he always did so well in school; he was a “go-getter.”
Gage: Meet me tomorrow for drinks. I’m staying at the Standard Hotel Highline. Catch up.
It was useless to try and avoid him, might as well see where his head was. I had to be careful, I didn’t want him to find out my arrangement with Bartolie.
Me: Beer Garden?
I hit send then opened my contacts. I pressed my thumb on Frank Bartolie’s number and brought the phone to my ear. It rang once.
“‘Bout time, Bennie.” Frank’s raspy voice grated on my nerves. I hated that I ever let myself get involved with him in the capacity that I had. “Charlie and Tommy said you was gonna call, but I hadn’t heard from you, thought maybe you was second guessing. You know how I feel about second guessing, Bennie.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose with my free hand. How had I let myself get in this deep? “I’m not pulling out before I said I was, Frank, but this is my last run. I’ve paid you back and then some. I want out. I’ve been telling you this. I can’t do this anymore. I need to do the right thing. You’ve gotten what you needed. December. The last pallets are out, and so am I.” I spoke in a low firm tone. I wasn’t going to let him bully me any longer; I’d paid my fucking dues and then some.
“Don’t get your fucking panties in a twist, kid. It’s fine. You finish out the quarter, ship the goods like you promised,
and you’ll have Sanchez and me off your hide. It’s too bad, though, you’re my family no matter what you think. Blood or not, you’ve always been.”
I wouldn’t let him manipulate me. Family, blood or not, wouldn’t put a bullet in my head if I didn’t come through. He was a criminal and he’d taken my parents from me. I was done being his bitch. “December, Frank. I’m done. No more.”
“I’m hearing you. Meet me and the boys for Sunday dinner, yeah? Annie’s making sauce.” Frank coughed into the phone.
“I’m meeting up with Gage tomorrow. He’s in town, but give my love to Annie.” She was the only innocent one in all of this.
“Tell Calibri I said hello.”
I wouldn’t. “I will.”
“Talk to you real soon.”
“Who’s Annie?” she asked, and as I turned I was greeted with a shy smile.
Her smile offered me relief and I exhaled. She hadn’t heard everything. “A friend of the family.” Her appearance made me grin. Selene’s legs were bare; the shirt I’d lent her fell to her knees. I chuckled. “Did the sweats not fit?”
She laughed. “I had to roll them like three times.” She had no makeup on, her skin was pink from the heat of the water, and her hair was up in a knot on the top of her head. She looked so young.
“How old are you, Selene?” The question seemed ridiculous. I’d fucked her, tasted her, knew her name and place of employment, and I knew she played the cello, but that was it. No matter how physically intimate I’d been with her, I wasn’t any closer to unraveling the story behind those honest brown eyes. This normally wouldn’t have bothered me, but Selene was different. I was curious about every aspect of who she was, inside and out. In order to truly own her, I had to know her.
“Twenty-eight.” She chewed at her bottom lip and I brought my fingertip to her mouth, stilling the motion. “You?” she whispered against my skin, and I dropped my hand.
“I’m thirty-two.” I smiled as her eyes widened.
“You have all of this… You’re so young.” She spoke with an incredulous smile as she looked around the room.
“I work hard.”
“So do I, Bennett, but I barely make ends meet.”
“I was lucky. I came from money, had a good start.” I noticed her smile fell at my statement. As I walked further into the kitchen and grabbed some plates, I asked, “Did you grow up in the city?”
“Brooklyn.” She spoke the word with an undercurrent of disdain. “Here, let me help you.” She stood next to me and took the spoon I had held in my hand and started plating the cold Chinese food.
“Really, are your parents still there?” I took the plates from her and stuck them in the microwave, pressing the reheat button and hitting start. When I turned, I noticed she had paled. “Are you okay?”
“My mom died five years ago.” She shook her head as if to shake off the oncoming memories. She knew death. She knew what it was like to lose a parent.
“And—”
“My father? He died in Italy, just after I was born. Heart attack. I never knew him. My mom shipped us to Brooklyn, slaved her life away at Morelli’s Bakery, and died of cancer.” Selene fiddled with a loose string on the sleeve of the T-shirt, avoiding my gaze. The timer sounded on the microwave breaking the quiet moment.
“My mother and father were murdered.” The words just poured from my mouth. I hadn’t said it out loud in such a long time.
Selene gasped “Oh my god, Bennett.”
“It was a couple of years ago. They were leaving a play — they’d gone to some off-Broadway thing with some family friends — and they were shot.” I closed my eyes and tried to quell the oncoming nausea. That guilt, their death, always stirred the acid in my stomach.
“I’m so sorry.” Selene snaked her arms around my waist and placed her cheek against my chest. I imagined she could hear the all the lies I’ve told for so long within each beat of my heart.
I brought my hand to the back of her head, cradling her against my body for just a second longer before I had to pull away. I had to take a step back. If I wasn’t careful, she’d be the one collecting me.
“It’s okay, we’ve both had great losses.”
She nodded. “We have. Losing a parent, both for that matter, it isn’t fair.” She leaned up on her tip toes and kissed me on the cheek. I gave her a small smile and turned to grab our dinner from the microwave.
“No, it isn’t,” I said as I placed the plates on the counter and grabbed the chopsticks from the take out bag. I handed her a pair and she jumped up on the counter and started to eat her noodles. It was like she’d been here before, like having dinner with me was just like any other night. She fit in. She belonged here, and the fear of that implication filled my lungs.
“I want to hear something positive, happy. How did you get into the winery business?” She spoke around her chopsticks, and I grinned at the fullness of her cheeks as she stuffed more noodles than I thought possible into her mouth.
I pushed the noodles around on my plate with my chopsticks. “I used to work for an advertising firm. It went under, and I lost everything.”
She frowned. “This is a positive story?” She cocked her eyebrow, and I laughed. She had me laughing tonight, more than I had laughed in a while.
“Yes, be patient.” I trailed my hand up her thigh and kissed her. I was beginning to like this, this casual feeling that was building between us. Even though I’d not had a woman in my home like this since Clara, and even though it frightened me, standing in my kitchen eating overcooked, soggy Chinese food in sweats and Selene in my clothes, it was the best I’d felt in five years.
“You may continue.” She smirked just as I stepped away from her.
“My father, he had opened Monterosso Winery, a small neighborhood place, you know? Making wine in the cellar was his hobby. I wanted to make it more. I borrowed money from some investors and purchased an established winery on the West Coast. The sellers had gone bankrupt and the land that came with it was a steal. It took a while, but finally the word got out and, well, now I own four West Coast stores and several all over the East Coast and three in Manhattan. This one in Tribeca is the newest, the biggest, and I hope to have artists and musicians showcase there as well.”
“That’s really cool. A real rise from the ashes story.” She smiled.
“I think so. It’s been hard. After my parents’ death, it almost didn’t feel worth it.” I brought my eyes to hers and the way she looked at me, the deep brown irises filled with wonder, it made me want to tell her every truth I could. “I wish it was me that had been shot.” Every damn day, I wished for that bullet. Every. Fucking. Day.
Selene eased herself down from the counter top and aligned her body with mine, raising again onto tip toes and placing her hands on my cheeks. She brought her lips softly to the corner of my mouth. She kissed me gently before giving me her full attention. “Then it would be their burden. There is no way you can spin that tale, Bennett. Loss is loss. I wouldn’t wish my mother the sadness of watching me rot away from an incurable disease, no more than your parents would want to bury their son. It doesn’t change it; it just transfers the pain to a new victim.”
Her eyes filled with tears and as she closed them, they spilled over, wetting her lashes. I framed her face with my palms, my thumb wiping away the truth from her cheeks. It was just that… truth. There was no other way to put it. Selene wasn’t a liar; I was.
I brought my mouth to hers and pulled her bottom lip through my teeth. Her hot hands touched my skin, her fingers spread across the deer head tattoo on my shoulder. I fit my hand at her waist and pressed her firmly against me. I didn’t want any more truth tonight. She opened up for me and I kissed her deeply. A sigh escaped her lips as I pulled a hand along her body, cupping her breast in my palm, pulling the nipple to a peak through the cotton fabric.
My phone vibrated against the countertop distracting her. She pulled away from my embrace breathless. “Do you need to get that?”
I didn’t. I knew it was Gage, but I figured if I didn’t take a breather, I’d probably fuck her too quickly, and tonight was about taking it slow, taking her body one inch at a time. Learning her buttons, making them mine, and keeping my agenda.
“I should.” I gave her a sideways smile as she bit her lip. I grabbed my phone and opened the lock screen.
Gage: Beer Garden 8:00 p.m. tomorrow night.
Selene leaned into me and brushed her hand along the length of my dick, causing me to drop my phone onto the counter. I shuddered, closing my eyes as her fingers curled around the waistband of my sweats and pulled them down. She knelt down and took me into her mouth. The unexpected moment caused me to clench my jaw, and I grasped the back of her head holding myself steady. The image of Gage behind her, fucking her while she got me off, was too vivid. Gage wanted in, and for the first time, I actually thought about saying no.
The feel of the vinyl record in my hand was a heady thing. I placed the record onto the player and gently placed the needle onto its black surface. The soft crackle made me smile. The words of “With or Without You” played through the speakers; the sound of it was crisp as I sank into the old leather chair. Gio hadn’t shown up at Wise Owl today, and I was okay with that. I’d decided to back off a bit. I didn’t want to unnecessarily scare her, and this place was like an old friend to me. I hadn’t been lying when I told her I sold my old records here as a teenager. I had. Bennett always thought it was funny that I was into vinyl, but it was my thing. It was real, and I expected nothing less of people or of the life I led. The fake realities people created pissed me off. The overuse of everything, the production of it all, it aggravated me. Drugs especially. It was why I became an agent instead of some pharmaceutical pusher.
After Clara—after I saw how drugs could ruin everything, ruin life with just one taste, one hit, one fix—I decided to join the DEA. I had the chemistry degree and spoke fluid Italian, perfect for the organized crime unit. It was drugs that created falsity, fake love, manufactured trust; they turned good and decent people, like my best friend, into greedy as fuck criminals. I hated it! I hated that he, that Bennett, had fallen victim to it. Since I’d started surveilling him, it didn’t seem like he was using, just trafficking. But still, when they pulled me off that Phoenix job, asking me about Bennett Monterosso and the Bartolie family, it had made me sick. Manning, my boss, requested me specifically because it was where I grew up. He wasn’t on the complete up and up with how well I knew Bennett or Charlie, or Frank, for that matter.
Beneath the Vine Page 7