by Cora Reilly
Growl curled his hands to fists and stared up at the night sky. He’d never found the sight calming or even inspiring. For Growl it had always looked too vast, too uncertain. Something he couldn’t control or comprehend, not even begin to.
Cara, she, too, was like the night sky. As beautiful, there was no doubt about it.
He could control her, at least physically, but what went on behind that perfect face, that was completely out of his grasp. Her brain worked in ways his would never be able to. He liked things simple. Uncomplicated. She was anything but. Comprehending her, that he would never.
His eyes found the door. If he went inside now, would she still be crying? “Fuck,” he growled and kicked the ground. Both Coco and Bandit jumped back and eyed him warily. Anger was something he was familiar with, something he even found consoling. But tonight it didn’t make him feel better. He was angry at her but he couldn’t unleash his fury on her. No, he could, but he didn’t want to. And that made things worse.
She’d enjoyed herself. He’d seen her enjoy herself. Her body had responded to him. She’d moaned, had given herself over to pleasure. And now she was crying.
He was angry at himself, too. He shouldn’t give a shit about her feelings. He’d heard people cry before, had heard them beg and scream in terror. What was one woman crying? Nothing. But it didn’t lessen his anger. He kicked the ground again. Coco hid behind the chairs and Bandit backed even farther away from him.
He got down to his knees and made a soothing noise. His dogs had never been afraid of him. After a moment of hesitation, first Coco and then Bandit came toward him and pressed up to his body. He patted them for a long time, and finally some of the fire beneath his skin faded. That’s why he preferred the company of dogs. They weren’t complicated. They showed you what they were feeling.
He stood and returned into the house. He wouldn’t let anything or anyone drive him out of his own home. Coco and Bandit followed him closely. Growl closed the terrace door, then listened. The shower wasn’t running anymore. He waited another moment but it was silent. No sobbing, no nothing. Coco left his side and trotted toward Cara’s door, sniffing before she sat down. Growl sighed. Especially Coco had taken to Cara, but even Bandit who never liked anyone, seemed to enjoy the woman’s presence.
Growl strode toward Coco and listened even more closely, but silence reigned behind the door. He grabbed the handle, and before he could stop himself, he pushed it down and opened the door. His eyes found the bed where Cara lay curled up, her legs pressed against her chest. Her face was turned away from him, and when he was honest with himself, he was thankful for that fact. He didn’t want to see her tearstained face. Her breathing was even, and she hadn’t tensed when light had spilled in. She was truly asleep.
That didn’t make him feel better. He shouldn’t have felt anything at the sight at all.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Cara
I considered staying in my room, but then I decided that it would be stupid to do so. I hated myself for what had happened last night, but perhaps I could use it to my advantage. I wanted to get on Growl’s good side, so he would help me and my family. Sleeping with him was perhaps the first step in the right direction, no matter how crazy it sounded.
When I walked into the kitchen, Growl wasn’t there but the door to the yard was open. I stepped outside to find Growl sitting on one of the chairs staring off into space. His eyes turned to me, and my cheeks heated, but I returned his gaze.
There was a flicker of surprise on his face when I approached him. I sank down on the chair across from him, wincing slightly.
“You alright?” he rumbled, brows drawing together.
I nodded. “I’m fine,” I said. I didn’t want to discuss my soreness with Growl.
“There’s coffee for you inside,” Growl said. Then he rose and I thought he wanted to avoid me but he returned a few minutes later with a cup of coffee. He’d put way too much milk into the coffee but I was glad for his consideration. I took a sip, then asked a question that had been bothering me for a while.
“What’s your real name? Growl was given to you after that thing with your vocal cords.”
“Was it?” he asked calmly.
I frowned. Suddenly unsure, but nobody was called Growl at birth. “Yes, because of how you sound.”
“Growl,” he repeated and hearing him say the name, it fit him even better.
“So what was your real name?”
“What does it matter?”
“I just want to know,” I said quietly.
He stared off again, as if lost in the past. “I’ve been Growl for a long time. That other name, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Why do you say that? It’s the name your mother chose for you.”
“But the boy given that name doesn’t exist anymore. He was erased forever.”
“So you don’t mind people calling you Growl? Isn’t it frustrating to be reduced to that small part of you?”
“Growl is a name that scares people. It’s the name that fits me now. It’s a name that holds power and meaning because I worked hard.”
“But isn’t your old name better than a name that reminds you every day of what happened to you?” I wanted to ask him about the events but he was already tense and I had a feeling that he wouldn’t be very forthcoming with more information if I asked him now.
“I don’t need a reminder. I won’t ever forget. It’s here,” he pointed at the scar on his throat, “And here,” he added, pointing at his temple.
I could only imagine what kind of images haunted him at night. Perhaps that’s why he could handle his own actions so easily, because the horrors of his past overshadowed anything else.
He appeared eager when he returned that night. I put down my book. It was the third I’d finished so far. Growl immediately joined me in the living room but he didn’t sit down and stayed in the doorway instead. Always cautious not to get too close except when we were being intimate.
“I have news,” he said calmly. “Falcone had a few drinks today and that always gets him talking. He told me more about your sister. She’s hidden away in one of his properties.”
“He didn’t say where? And why is he hiding her? What does he want with her? What if they are hurting her?” I clutched my knees, the mere idea of my sister being hurt in any way tore at me.
Growl approached, obviously uncomfortable by my distress. “I doubt it very much. Your sister is too valuable as leverage to hurt her. That’s not to say that Falcone won’t do it if he sees it as beneficial for his goal.”
“I don’t understand. What goals? What does it mean?”
“Falcone needs to control your mother. And he’s threatening her with doing to Talia what he did to you. Give her to someone who would hurt her. Your mother isn’t in a good state of mind right now. Apparently she’s guilty because of what happened to you and would do anything to protect at least your sister when she couldn’t protect you.”
“It’s not her fault.”
Growl smirked in a twisted way. Perhaps because we talked about him like he was a curse, but to be honest, that’s exactly why Falcone had given me to him, because everybody feared Growl.
“What I don’t get is how my mother could be useful to Falcone in any way. She’s never been involved in Father’s business. She’s always just been a housewife. The only thing she knows is how to organize a dinner party and where to buy the best shoes.”
I cringed at how horrible that sounded but it was the truth. I couldn’t see how Falcone could use either of those things.
“Your mother doesn’t have to know anything about business. Her blood is what matters.”
I froze. “What do you mean?”
Growl searched my face as if he couldn’t believe I didn’t know. “Your mother isn’t from Vegas. She was born in New York, but ran off with your father.”
I’d suspected that mother had run off with Father. She’d hinted to something like that. But New York? I thou
ght back to the few times I’d talked about New York with my mother. She had always avoided the topic. I had never given it much thought, but it all made sense now. And yet it still didn’t explain why that made her an asset for Falcone.
I peered up at Growl, more confused than ever.
“Do you know who Salvatore Vitiello is?” he asked as he perched on the armrest of the sofa. The thing creaked under his weight.
Salvatore Vitiello? Everybody knew that man. Even people who had nothing to do with the mob knew who he was. His death had been all over the newspapers. “Of course. He was the head of the New York Familia. But he’s dead now.”
Growl nodded. “He is. And your mother is his sister.”
My eyes grew wide in surprise. “My mother is related to the head of the New York Familia?”
“She is. I suppose she and her brother never got along very well, that was another reason why she left New York.”
“Ok, but why would Falcone care if my mother was related to Salvatore Vitiello?”
“Because that means she’s the aunt of the current head of the Familia, and that makes her the perfect contact person.”
“I thought Las Vegas wants nothing to do with New York. They hate each other. That’s what my father always said.”
“That’s true,” Growl agreed. “Falcone wants the Familia dead, and the Chicago Outfit as well. But his power is waning. The Russians have grown too strong in Las Vegas. And now that Chicago and New York are working together Falcone worries that the Russians will lose interest in those cities and focus all their energy on taking control over Las Vegas. If Falcone wants to hold his city, he needs the support of the other families. And that won’t be easy. He’s made a lot of enemies over the years.”
I snorted. “I’m not surprised. He’s a sadistic bastard, and never really cared about working together with anyone. Why should the Vitiellos even consider coming to the Camorra’s help?”
“Because of your mother. Apparently, Luca Vitiello is very family oriented. Or at least he’s been since he married Aria. If your mother, as his aunt, contacts him and asks for help, Falcone’s chances are much better than without her.”
“Why hasn’t Falcone asked my mother before? Why now?”
“Falcone has been trying to solve things on his own as he always has, but now that even your father has betrayed him with the help of the Bratva, even Falcone realizes that he needs to do something soon or Las Vegas is lost.”
“I say let the Bratva have the city. They can’t possible be any worse than Falcone. The city will be better off without the bastard.”
“Perhaps,” Growl said with a shrug. “But that’s your answer. And as long as Falcone hopes for New York’s support and as long as your mother does as he says, your sister and she will be safe.”
“But what if New York refuses to help Falcone?”
“Then Falcone will probably threaten to kill your mother and sister. That could change Luca Vitiello’s mind. Though I doubt that he’ll risk New York for an aunt that he doesn’t know only because Falcone threatens to kill her. Luca has almost as much blood on his hands as I. He can make hard decisions.”
“But if that happens, my mother and sister will die!”
“It’s a possibility.”
“And even if Luca agrees to help, Falcone will keep my mother as a prisoner and my sister as leverage. They won’t be better off than me.”
Growl’s face tightened, but he nodded in agreement. “Their only chance is to escape from Las Vegas. If they go to New York, Luca will probably take them in. His wife will certainly convince him.”
New York. That was the solution to everything.
“When can I see my mother? I want to talk to her to make sure she’s doing ok.”
Growl raised his eyebrows. “Do you think I lied to you? She’s doing ok considering everything, believe me.”
“I do,” I said. “But I need to see her. Please.”
Growl sighed. “It’s not that easy. Falcone keeps a close eye on her. He won’t be happy if you go to her.”
“There has to be a way,” I said imploringly.
Growl sighed. “I don’t know why I’m even telling you all this. This could be treason. I’m working for Falcone.”
“Or perhaps he figured you’d tell me and he hopes it’ll make me better to control. He can’t believe you won’t mention anything to me,” I said. He looked doubtful. He was slipping away again. I wasn’t sure how to bind him to me. The only time he’d let down his guard at all was when we’d had sex.
I scooted a bit closer to him but I’d never had to use my body to get what I wanted. I could tell Growl hadn’t stopped admiring my body from the moment he’d come in. He still wanted me, so last night hadn’t been enough. If only I knew how to seduce him. I wasn’t sure what to do at all. My body was definitely already imagining how it would be to feel his touch again. I tried not to let thoughts of appropriateness ruin this for me. But I’d always been taught to act reserved and like a lady. Seducing someone wasn’t something my mother would have ever condoned. I faltered, my eyes tracing Growl’s muscles visible through his thin t-shirt and his strong thighs. My belly filled with warmth at the sight. I had already slept with him. This was easy now, I tried to tell myself.
Growl must have seen something in my expression because he let out a low groan and pulled me toward him, claiming my mouth for a kiss. When he pulled away, he rasped, “Do you even know what you’re doing?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Cara
Did I know that I was doing? God, no, I didn’t. The only thing I was sure of was that my body wanted him, had wanted him from the first moment we’d seen each other, and now I could justify my desire with something else. He was my only chance to get what I wanted and if that required using my body to get it, I was willing to do so. He kissed me again, harder this time and began tearing at my shirt. I wanted to protest but before I could he’d ripped it apart, leaving me in nothing but my bra. And then that was gone too and he sucked my nipple into his mouth. I cried out in surprise and lust, and barely had time to catch my breath when Growl staggered to his feet. Confusion shot through me. Was he leaving? Had I done something wrong? I’d thought he wanted me even more than I wanted him.
I peered up at him, feeling shame rise up in me, but then I saw him fumbling with his belt and shoving his pants down. His cock sprang free, already big and glistening at the tip. Warmth spread between my legs at the sight despite the soreness I was still feeling.
With his cock standing at attention, he moved closer. It was on eye level and I finally had an idea what he had in mind. Nerves fluttered in my stomach. I wasn’t sure if I could do it and if I’d like it at all. Growl didn’t give me much time for uncertainty though. He stopped right in front of me, his cock only a few inches from my face. He smelled clean and part of me wondered how he would taste. Growl had seemingly enjoyed what he’d done to me yesterday, especially my taste. I peeked up at him again.
His hand raked through my hair and came to rest on the back of my head. He pushed me forward lightly until my lips brushed his tip. This was wrong, wasn’t it? Growl saw nothing in me but a thing to give him pleasure. For a moment my instincts told me to lock my jaw, but then I let him slide into my mouth. He tasted slightly salty but not in a bad way.
Lust flashed in his eyes.
My own body flushed with elation, and a new wave of heat gathered between my legs. I shouldn’t want, shouldn’t enjoy this. This was wrong on so many levels but as Growl’s movements became harder, as his length slid in and out of my mouth faster, my hands grabbed his butt seemingly on their own accord. His muscles flexed under my fingers, hard and unrelenting.
His thrusts became jerky and then he released into me with a low groan. I had trouble swallowing around him but he didn’t stop pushing into me. He slowed gradually, still shuddering. His eyes met mine and I shivered. I tried to pull back but his hands kept me in place. After a moment, he slid his length out of my mout
h inch by inch. It was still hard but smaller than before. He took a step back and my face became unbearably hot as shame washed over me at what he’d made me do, at what I’d done, even enjoyed doing. God. If my mother knew. If anyone knew. I knew what Trish and Anastasia would say about me. They’d call me a dirty slut. My conflicted emotions made me feel like I had a split personality.
Suddenly the taste of him made me feel dirty. I could hardly stop myself from spitting on the ground. Rough hands pulled me to my feet and flush against his body. Before I had a chance to react, he thrust his tongue into my mouth, tasting me, tasting himself.
My knees became weak as he explored my mouth. Didn’t he mind tasting himself? I thought men would find it disgusting. He sucked my lower lip into his mouth, then released it with a plop. “Your mouth tastes fucking perfect with my cum in it,” he growled.
Embarrassment washed over me again, but Growl knew no mercy. He thrust a finger into me and I gasped first from discomfort than something else, something incredible. He curled his fingers deep in me and I could feel nerve-endings inside of me I’d never felt before. Growl began sliding his fingers in and out slowly, and I was ashamed at how easy his path was, wet and hot and eager. Giving him pleasure had turned me on. Was that even normal to be that turned on by something so dirty? My forehead fell against his strong chest. I couldn’t hold it up anymore, couldn’t even stand on my own legs. The sensations held me in their stronghold. Growl’s thumb flicked over my nub of nerves, again on the edge of almost painful. My whole body reverberated with desire.
A cry sat on the tip of my tongue but I bit it back, pressed my lips against the rough fabric of Growl’s shirt. I could control the sounds I made, but my body shook with the wave of sensations crashing over it. Everything was quiet except for Growl’s and my rapid breathing. I swallowed, trying to make sense of what had just happened. But again Growl didn’t give me time to ponder. He released me and I almost lost my balance.