It wouldn’t do to spill my guts to my cousin. If Dad leaned on her just a little, she would blab about everything that happened in the bar.
She opens her mouth, but I quickly silence her. “I don’t want to talk about it, Bea.”
“I was just wondering if I could have my lights done.”
“Yeah, okay.”
What the fuck else is there to do?
She follows me back into the garage, where my mom is sweeping up the bits of broken glass. A stab of guilt hits my chest as I watch her, and Beatrice lets out an audible gasp.
“What the fuck happened?”
Mom glares at me as I lead her into the garage and use a rag to wipe the salon chair free of glass.
“Mom, I’ll clean it up.”
Dark eyes glittering, she sets aside the broom and gives me a tired sigh. “Come here, sweetheart.”
My insides clench painfully as I leave Beatrice’s side and join my mother’s, whose arms are so firmly crossed that I think it would take a crowbar to uncross them.
“Mom—”
“You have to stop talking to him like that. You’re never going to get what you want by fighting with him.”
I gape at her. “He doesn’t want me to do anything. Just sit here and watch after the kids and waste my life—”
Her eyes flare. “Like me?”
That’s not fair. “You wanted this. I don’t.”
She tosses her dark hair and closes her eyes as if in pain. “Do what he says. He’d ease up if you actually listened to him.”
But I don’t want to listen to him. I’m twenty-two, a grown woman, for God’s sake, and I have my own dreams. My own desires. And he’s determined to block me from all of them.
“You have no choice. Look at who your father is.”
Must I always live under his fucking shadow?
“I don’t give a shit.”
She lets out another sigh, brushing past me as she raises her manicured hands to her temple.
I turn back toward Beatrice, who smiles at me expectantly, and I force my muscles to return the smile.
More than anything, I want to be alone to think about him. A smile hitches on my face as I comb through Beatrice’s hair. He was way too damn handsome and incredible in the sack. More surprising was my willingness to follow his orders like a goddamn slave. Do this. Do that. It made my blood boil, but there was something irresistible about the authority in his voice. I couldn’t help but listen to him. I mean, Jesus, he put his mouth on my pussy and sucked me. Fuck, I can still feel his tongue lapping at my clit, his breath like steam on my pussy. I let him come inside me.
A small twist of fear drains the blood from my face. It was stupid of me. I wasn’t thinking. But I can’t deny how fucking amazing it felt to have him fill me up with his seed, his hands owning me, running over my body’s curves and squeezing as if I was irresistible. He called me things that made me soar. Gorgeous. Beautiful. The fucking nasty shit he said—I loved that, too.
I folded the card he gave me into fours, but never looked at it. I just stuck it in my jeans pocket, and I run my fingers over the coarse edges whenever I feel like calling him.
There’s no future with that guy.
A heavy wave hits me. My hands tremble and I’m suddenly glad there’s no mirror, so that Beatrice can’t see my eyes burning with unshed tears.
“I’m going out with him. Paul.”
I can tell that she’s been dying to tell me since the moment she saw me. “Oh, cool. When?”
“Geez, don’t sound so excited.”
“Sorry, I’m just in a bad mood right now.”
“We’re going out to the city tonight. That’s why I wanted to do my lights.”
Jealousy burns inside me like the glowing embers of a still-hot fire. “That’s great.”
Beatrice gives me another weird look, but I’m in no mood to act cheerful for anyone.
The smell of coffee beans saturates the air, burning my nose. I wipe down tables with my wet rag, content to just ignore the customers and fill the little sugar things while my mind lingers over Johnny’s lips. Johnny’s tattooed, lean body warm against mine. Johnny’s dick.
A man looks up at me from the book he’s reading, and I blush hard as if he’s caught me thinking nasty things.
“Maya, I heard it’s your last day!”
One of my coworkers, a sweet younger girl, bounces up to me.
“Yeah.”
“You have to come out with us for a drink or something. I can’t believe you’re leaving.”
I ball the wet rag in my fist as a sudden pain hits me. Oh God, I’m about to cry.
“I—I can’t. I have to go back home.”
Her face falls comically. “You can’t have one drink?”
I bite my lip suddenly as I consider walking past that bar. His bar. No, I can’t. We messed around once, and that’s that.
“Sorry.”
I turn my back on her, unable to stomach the look of disappointment and my own sinking feelings. It galls me that that fucker has so much say in my life, the man I’m supposed to call Daddy.
The door opens, swinging wide as a man in slacks steps inside, his leather shoes gleaming against the floor. I’m still bent over the table, so I don’t see his face. I’m working as slowly as I can. Fucking savoring the last drop of freedom.
“Jesus, look at that guy.”
I raise my head at the sound of her awed voice and my heart stalls in my chest because only one guy I know of looks that good in a suit.
Johnny.
“Oh my God, he’s looking at you.”
A slow grin staggers across his devilishly handsome face. He wears a blue pinstripe suit, looking as immaculate as he did in the bar. He slips his phone in his jacket pocket, looking unsurprised to see me here.
What the fuck?
Amy gives me a very curious look. “Why’s he gawking at you like that?”
“Like what?” I can barely hear what she’s saying. He’s a dream. This can’t be real.
“Like he’s seen you naked.” An excited gasp leaves her throat. “Do you know him?”
Before I can utter a word to make her shut up, Johnny takes a couple strides and joins my side. He’s close enough to breathe in, and I smell freshly laundered clothes and the shampoo on his hair. He’s way too clean, and I probably smell like coffee grounds. It’s embarrassing, him seeing me here like this.
Amy slinks away to gawk at us behind the counter, flashing me a grin when I catch her gaze.
“How the fuck did you find me?” I mutter.
“Maybe when you left my apartment, I made sure we’d bump into each other.”
My skin burns when he grabs my waist, and I’m pretty sure I’ve lost the ability to breathe, because my chest is paralyzed. I summon every ounce of indignation I have, but he’s holding my waist. I feel the warmth of his hands through my t-shirt, and then he squeezes. God, I remember him doing that when we were naked.
Holy fuck, don’t think of that now.
“You had me followed?”
“You didn’t give me a choice, sweetheart. You never called.”
“And now what?”
His voice deepens. “I want you to come home with me.”
Another hard thump of my heart against my ribs makes me dizzy.
“You want me again?”
A little laugh shakes from his chest, and then he swallows it to give me a look that makes me hot all over. “Of course I want you again. That’s why I gave you my card.”
I’m surprised and flattered that he actually tracked me down. He took the time to find out where I worked, when he could have easily found someone else.
I take his hands from my waist to push him away from me, but he twists his grip so that he’s holding my hand in his. Then he raises it to his lips and kisses my skin.
Intense heat rushes exactly where he kisses me, until I think that my face must be on fire. With a dark look thrown my way, he takes my elbows and yanks
me into his chest.
“You have some balls. You know who my father is?”
Amusement twinkles in his eyes. “Yeah. And maybe I don’t give a fuck.”
What?
The confidence in his voice stuns me. It’s like a club to my head. Logic tells me that he must be brazen or stupid, but I don’t know. He’s so fucking sure of himself.
Either way, it makes my panties soak in an instant.
“You’re in the Mafia,” I hiss back.
“I thought I was just a bar owner,” he says, smirking.
He looks even hotter with that shit-eating grin.
Then, as if he expects it, as if he knows I’m just inwardly begging for him to do it, he lowers his head and catches my mouth in his. My heart rams against my chest as his lips touch mine, the kiss deepening as he clenches the back of my neck. He’s softer than I’ve ever felt him, but then I feel his tongue, and then I remember that we’re right in the middle of a fucking café.
Good thing I’m quitting.
Johnny pulls back with a primal growl in the back of his throat, looking as though he’d quite like to strip me down right in the café.
“How about it? Do you want another night—”
“—Shh—”
“—Where you scream my name as you come on my cock?” He just laughs at me when I pound his chest. “Come on. I’ll take you out.”
God, I can’t fucking stand it even though I know it’s wrong. He’s wrong. I want him. Every cell in my body screams for him.
“We’re a disaster waiting to happen. If my father finds out—”
“I’m not afraid of your father.”
Sold.
I don’t know what kind of drugs he’s on, but if he doesn’t give a shit about the risk he’s taking, why should I?
I leave the rag on the table as I take his hand, my spirits so high that I could probably fly if I jumped in the air. There’s a car waiting out front, and he opens the passenger door for me, my skin heating when he slides in next to me. I don’t know why, but I feel fucking nervous locked in the car with him.
“I can’t believe you’re not pissed off about my dad.”
Johnny shrugs as he slides his arm around my shoulders and draws me closer. I feel his breath on my face and I know that if I turn my head, he’ll kiss me.
“I was pissed before, but now I understand.”
Fucking slick bastard will say anything to get into my pants.
He hooks his hand around my thigh and an electrical shock runs straight to my pussy as he tilts my face toward his with just a finger under my jaw.
It was inevitable once I felt his hands on me. The spark between us is undeniable. Like flesh on flame, like tongue on steel. His lips crush mine as the stubble on his cheek scratches my skin. My heart pounds when he pulls back slightly to look at me with unbridled lust. I’ve never been with a man like this. He swallows my gasps as he kisses me again, grabbing my tits through my shirt. His thumb moves roughly over my peaked nipple as a wave of heat rolls over my chest.
I yank his lapels and feel the heat emanating from his skin. I palm his chest, sliding down his tie as his tongue dazzles my mouth. His tongue slipped inside my pussy that night. That’s all I can think of as he kisses me. My hand settles in his lap, the burning heat now a raging forest fire. I grab his cock, which stiffens in my grip. Johnny digs his fingers in my hair as he rests his forehead against mine, a low growl rumbling from his chest.
I love that.
The car stops and Johnny pulls away from me, adjusting his cock so that his raging hard-on is not so obvious. My mouth waters as I look at it. He gives me a wink as the driver opens the door, and then I realize how fucked up my hair must be.
Oh shit.
He stopped us in front of small café: Momesso. Italian sausage sandwiches.
I press my lips into a firm line as laughter builds up inside my chest. This must be his idea of a joke.
“What, we’re going to eat here?”
“That’s the idea.”
“Italian sausage? Is this a joke?”
He looks at me, smiling. “They make really good sandwiches.”
I don’t know. I look around the parking lot for a hint of chrome, because if one of my father’s people saw me with an Italian—
“Relax. We won’t be seen.”
He holds the glass door open for me with a smile and I walk inside as my stomach clenches over and over. I’m already condemned.
Johnny’s suit clashes horribly with the interior. It’s an ordinary-looking café, with plastic tables and chairs. Nothing special. Johnny wraps an arm around my waist and bends his head to my ear.
“Go get us a table.”
I turn around to see the whole fucking establishment staring at me. Their eyes drop when I catch them, my heart pounding louder than ever.
That’s fucking it. I’m Googling him when I get home.
I don’t know who the fuck he is, but obviously he’s someone important. High up in the family. I choose a table and watch the cash register. Johnny takes out his wallet and argues with the cashier, who waves his hands.
“Your money is no good here.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Of course, Mr. Cravotta.”
Damn. That son of a bitch doesn’t have to pay for anything.
Moments later he walks to our table with a sexy little smirk that makes my heart flip. He sits down across from me, and he looks at me as though I’m the meal even as the worker sets the plates of sandwiches down. The spicy smell of the Italian sausage, split in half in the toasted bun, makes a sudden, sharp pang of hunger hit me. I take it with my hands, but he picks up the plastic knife and fork and uses them to cut into the sandwich.
What a freak.
“So, what is this between us?”
He merely glances up at me. “It is what it is.”
Well, that’s a nonanswer.
“You know my dad would kill you if he found out about this, right?”
His smile widens and a stab of anxiety hits my chest.
“Oh, I doubt that very much.”
I watch as he pops a piece of the sandwich into his mouth and chews, his eyes dancing with mirth.
What is he hiding?
“This is how it’s going to be, hon. I want to keep fucking you, but you’re right. Daddy can’t know about us.”
My jaw clenches shut and my teeth grind together in my head. “Would you stop calling him that?”
He grins back at me, and for a moment I’m perturbed by this guy’s cavalier attitude. The Devils MC isn’t a fucking joke. He seems to be under the delusion that he won’t get hurt by my dad, and I can’t figure out why. My chest freezes as I wonder what kind of motivation this guy could have for fucking around with the president’s daughter. Is he trying to use me as leverage or something?
“You’re not using me, are you?”
My voice comes out in a whisper, but he picks up what I said. Dark, intense eyes flash at me.
“What are you talking about?”
“Why else would you mess around with the president’s daughter?”
A boyish grin lights up his face. “Because she’s good at sucking cock, that’s why.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m some goddamn whore. I’m not one of your sluts that you fuck around with.”
The amusement on his face doesn’t falter. “It turns me on when you talk back to me like that.”
What the fuck?
“I don’t care. You treat me with the respect I deserve, or you can spend the night with your hand.”
He sits back into his chair and cocks his head at me as though he’s never seen anything quite like me. “Fair enough.” Then his voice deepens. “Although, a part of me thinks that you actually like the way I talk to you. I think it’s just your pride telling you that I shouldn’t talk to you like this.”
I can feel sweat beading over my skin as he stares at me as though he can see through my proud disguise. Deep d
own, I’m fucking scared that he’s right. That I enjoy every filthy word that flies out of his mouth, no matter how insulting it seems. Why does that scare me so much?
He suddenly reaches across the table and just grazes his fingertips over my hand. I clench it into a fist, hating the way my body responds to him.
A sweet smile widens his face as keeps looking at me. “I don’t think you’re a whore. I think you’re beautiful.”
I inhale a sharp breath as he shrugs with an apologetic smile that makes me want to leap across the table and tackle him. Damn it, he’s a master at seduction. He knows what to say, and exactly when to say it. Like a politician. He should be eating out of my hand. That’s what I’m used to.
I don’t know how to handle him.
Fuck, at this point it’s clear that he’s the one handling me.
He clears his throat. “Let’s go.”
His lips touch the back of my neck, and I feel my skin prickling into a row of goose bumps. My world is black, but I feel him. Taste him. Hear him sigh as he pushes my hair to the side. My body pulses with need, every surface of me aching to be touched.
“I’ve thought about you all week.”
Deft fingers touch my shoulders and then slide down my arms. Christ, how does he make everything feel so goddamn erotic?
“It’s not like me to get obsessed over pussy. Put your hands behind your head.”
I do as he says, feeling that wonderful release as I follow his commands. The cool air makes my nipples contract, but he makes me burn. His palm touches my stomach, and I suck in surprise. Another hand gropes my breast, gently massaging. The ache grows between my legs like a fever. I feel hot and delirious.
The hand on my stomach dips down, and down. Excitement ramps up in my chest, and then he slides a finger down my clit, tutting in my ear.
“So fucking wet for me. You must have it bad for me, huh?”
The slightly mocking tone makes blood rush to my cheeks. “You going to talk all night, or are you going to actually fuck me?”
I wait for the swift blow of a slap, but all I feel is his sigh on my shoulder. “I think I’ve a solution to your smart mouth.”
Rough fabric suddenly presses against my lips, and a musky smell invades my nostrils. Is that my fucking underwear? I open my mouth, protesting, and he shoves it inside, clapping his hand over my mouth.
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