by Rayne, Piper
Before I can shut the door, Carm jogs out of the building and puts his hand on my door. “I’m heading back to the office, too. Have an appointment I forgot about.”
He slides in without permission.
“By all means, please.”
His cocky smirk is his only response as he slides in and grabs his phone from the breast pocket of his suit.
My eyes slide over his body. I can’t blame Helena. I mean, she’s a woman and Carm is… well… Carm. He’s like the quarterback of the high school football team, all grown-up and successful.
We ride in silence while his fingers fly over the screen of his phone.
“I have to go to dinner with my cousin on Friday night.” He groans, hammering out another text message. “This is the first time he’s been in town since he got engaged. The wedding isn’t too far off and I’m hoping his bachelor party will be in Vegas.”
“Surprise, surprise.” I cross my legs.
Carm’s eyes leave his screen for a second, eyeing my movements.
“Vegas. Every bride’s nightmare.”
He pockets his cell phone. “So you’d have a problem with your husband-to-be celebrating his last nights of freedom in Vegas?”
The cab is now stopped in traffic. Great. Extra minutes with Carm.
I shift to face him. “If my soon-to-be-husband thinks he needs to refer to the days before he marries me as freedom, then I’d prefer he doesn’t show up at the altar.”
He runs his hand over his scruff while he watches me. It only adds to his sex appeal. My chest heats and his eyes deepen. He’s gauging my reaction and I can’t help but like what’s reflected back at me.
Want.
He clears his throat. “What I meant is that you’re a self-confident woman, right?”
“It has nothing to do with the woman. It’s the man’s problem.”
“How so?” He extends his arm along the back of the seat, and the energy from his fingertips so close to my neck makes it hard to concentrate.
“You have to be willing to bring to the table the same thing you expect. Which means, I doubt any guy is okay with his bride spending her ‘last days of freedom,’ as you call it, being shitfaced drunk, dancing with different guys, watching men stripping, and making out with strangers. Because I understand how guys like you think, and kissing is cheating.” My eyes widen as I realize how much I just unloaded on him.
“Whoa. Were you cheated on?”
“No.” I scowl.
“Are you sure? You seem really sensitive about the whole topic.”
I slide across the bench seat of the taxi and twirl my finger up in his tie. His eyes shoot to the rearview mirror and back to me.
“Tell me, Carmelo, why is it so much easier for a woman to seduce a man?” My other hand lands on his hard thigh. That was a big mistake, but I need to prove how easy it is to get a man to flip.
“Because women are the devil,” he says, his hand falling from the top of the bench seat to my waist, locking me in place. “But don’t make me prove you wrong,” he whispers, leaning closer. “It’d be easy for me to have you melting against this vinyl right now.”
Our faces draw together until his lips hover over mine. I feel his breath on my face and a tingle shoots up my spine.
“Just imagine it. My lips on yours. My tongue searching for entrance. The two of us lost in lust in this cab, trying to hide what we’re doing,” he whispers. His gaze dips and his other hand joins the torment, sliding up my bare thigh. “I’d inch closer and closer, and you’d nudge your legs open for me. Tell me, Bella, how wet are you right now?”
I tug at his tie. One kiss—one long, sultry kiss—wouldn’t do any harm, right?
A lone finger glides up under the hem of my skirt. I glance down and see the prominent bulge in his slacks.
“You tell me first, Carm, how hard are you?”
“Like granite. I’m not embarrassed to admit I want you.”
All the girly parts inside me puddle. Carmelo Mancini wants me.
“But that doesn’t mean I’ll have you, because contrary to what you think, I have self-control.” He squeezes my thigh and smirks.
I release his tie, slide out of his grip, and shift over to the other side of the cab.
The player just got played. Why did I ever think I’d beat him in a game of temptation?
Chapter Thirteen
Carm
When the cab pulls up outside our building and I step out, my hard-on is only slightly deflated. I wanted to tell that cab driver to take a detour to my condo, but no way can I have filthy sex with a woman like Bella Scott.
“So you’ll talk to Annie?” she asks, apparently completely unfazed that I almost smashed my lips to hers minutes ago.
Was it really a game to her? Can she turn her arousal off and on like a light switch?
“About?” I open the door to our office building and let her walk in first. She must’ve said something while my mind was drifting off, imagining the taste of her.
“The Hamptons.” She presses the elevator button.
“I haven’t yet, but I will. You’re going?”
She shrugs and steps into the elevator. “Yeah. I mean, life is too short. I’m going to allow myself this one summer to enjoy.”
“Oh.”
She’s trying to get a business off the ground, and we have this whole competition with Greg now. I can’t believe she’s going to leave the city every Friday through Sunday. I’m kind of jealous.
“What?” she asks, her eyes on me as we position ourselves on opposite sides of the elevator.
It’s only the two of us, and the arousing scent of her perfume surrounds me.
“Nothing. Just thought you were a go-getter.” I shrug.
The look she shoots back isn’t a nice one. “I am, but like I said, I’m doing this for myself without apology.”
The elevator doors open, and we step out. “Don’t be upset when I beat you then.”
She stops in her tracks then walks up to me. I back up against the wall. “You think just because Helena wants you, it’s in the bag. Well, you have no idea what I’m capable of, and spending my weekends in the Hamptons isn’t going to ruin anything.”
“If I cared to give it any thought, I’d have to say you’re jealous of Helena.”
Her gaze falls to my pocket, where Helena’s business card with her personal cell number rests. I don’t plan on using it, but I love the rush of pink ravishing Bella’s skin. She is jealous.
“Figures. You probably think every woman is jealous of the woman of the moment on your arm.” She shakes her head.
The door to my office opens and out steps Margo Gregory, my A-list client from Los Angeles.
“Am I interrupting?” Margo asks. She tucks her designer purse under her arm.
Everything about Margo is high class. She has money from a makeup company she started at twenty-one. Her high-end fashion and shoes cost more than some people’s rent. Success looks good on her. She’s in her late forties but looks like she’s thirty. No husband or kids. Loves the younger guys. I should know. In other words, the ideal client for a guy like me.
“Margo.” I smile then step away from Bella and do the whole kiss-on-each-cheek thing Margo loves. “Come. I found a new place I want to show you on the computer.”
“It looked like I was interrupting?” She eyes Bella like a spiteful twenty-year-old cat inspecting the new kitten her owner brought home.
“This is Bella Scott. We were discussing some issues we’ve been having with a shared client.”
“You’re a realtor too?” Margo asks.
“No. Bella does FSBOs,” I say.
Bella’s eyes narrow into small slits. “I better get going on that.” She smiles at Margo and turns on her heels.
As she walks into her office, I admire her ass and consider how well my hands would mold around her flesh before Margo hits me in the stomach with her purse.
I laugh, looking at the five-foot-three woma
n. “What?”
“I sense trouble.” She raises her eyebrows.
“Come on. Let me grab that listing. Sorry I was late getting back.”
She waves off my concern. “I was going to head down to the corner and check out a new shop that just opened up. You saved me from buying something I don’t need.”
I chuckle. “Always at your service.” I grip the door handle. “I’m sure Justin was excited to see you.”
“Of course he was. He always likes to glance down my blouse. That boy needs to get laid.”
I open the door for her, and she walks in first. I follow, remembering how lucky I was to get Margo’s business in the first place. She’s referred so many of her rich friends to me that she’s one of the launching points of my career.
I decide to ignore her comment about Justin because even though Margo loves to talk about sex, I’d prefer to keep our conversation today on neutral ground.
I’m still dealing with the aftereffects of having Bella’s body pressed to mine.
* * *
On Friday, I walk into the restaurant Enzo booked, and the hostess walks me to a private room. I’m not surprised Enzo picked this place—it’s where he used to take all of his big clients when he worked at Jacobson and Earl.
I open the curtains and jump into the room, trying to startle whoever’s in there.
Sadly, it’s only Dom, a drink in one hand, his phone in the other, thumb scrolling.
“Whatcha doin’?” I ask, taking the seat next to him. We’re the only two flying solo here tonight. Even Blanca is bringing her new guy, who I’ve yet to meet. He’ll be my fun for tonight though.
Dom stops scrolling and tucks his phone into the breast pocket of his suit jacket.
“Were you playing a game?”
He glances at me. “I have more important shit to do than to put a ball into a hole.”
“What about a dick?” I ask.
A smile tips his lips but quickly falls.
“So your regular hook-up thing ended? You had a nice little arrangement going on there the past year,” I say.
“Yeah.” His voice is low, and he downs half of his drink.
“And you’re upset?” I ask in disbelief.
“Hell no. She was a hookup. That’s all.”
Fuck. I haven’t seen a Mancini man this down since… well, a long fucking time. Minus Enzo with Annie when things went in the shitter, but they’re together now, so I tend to forget all about that. “You’re not acting like she was just a hookup.”
The waiter comes in and I order Stella with a glass.
Dom picks up his near empty glass before the waiter can leave. “Another.”
Once the waiter is gone, I slide my chair so I’m facing him. “You liked her.” My words aren’t a question, they’re an accusation.
Dom’s finger smooths out the tablecloth. “I liked her pussy. Especially when my dick was in it.”
Whoa. This is serious, folks.
“Then what happened?”
“Just didn’t work out.” He finishes his drink, the ice cubes clinking inside the empty glass.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.” His voice is curt and authoritative. “I want to fucking forget her. All I’m upset about is that now I have to find someone else who’s willing to give me sex on a regular basis without wanting anything else. Stop treating me like I need a tub of ice cream and a spoon.”
I hold up my hands. “Okay. Okay.”
We sit in silence for what feels like forever before Annie and Enzo walk in through the curtains. Thank God for new blood and a distraction from my brooding brother.
But as soon as she spots me, Annie’s finger points in my direction. “You!”
Oh fuck, what did I do now?
“You never told me about the Hamptons. I had to find out from Bella.” She sits down next to me. Great. Now I’ll probably have to bear witness while she gives Enzo a hand job under the table during dinner.
Just the thought of hand jobs has my mind moving in Bella’s direction. Even after giving myself a handy last night, my sexual fever hasn’t gone away. I still want Bella Scott, and no one can fulfill that need. Not even my skilled hand.
I place my napkin in my lap, smiling at the waiter as he enters with our drinks. “Thanks. Just in time.”
I pour my bottle into the glass while the waiter takes Enzo and Annie’s drink order. Annie doesn’t have to tell Enzo what she wants, he just knows.
“What are you talking about?” I ask after the waiter leaves again.
“The Hamptons, jerk. Bella said she has a house at a discounted price if we want to share. Ten bedrooms. A pool. Right on the beach.” She punches my upper arm. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“You guys are doing the Hamptons this summer?” Dom peers around me to look at Annie.
“We wanted to and asked the best realtor we know to find us a place, but oh no, Carm Mancini is so threatened by the woman across the hall, he’s keeping that information to himself.”
“I’m in,” Dom says, and all of our heads whip around.
Enzo straightens his back. “You’re what?”
“I’ll chip in. I might not come every weekend, but I have to get the fuck out of this city.”
We all exchange confused expressions.
Annie clears her throat. “Dom, are you okay? I heard—”
“I’m fine. I just need a change of scenery this summer. Don’t psychoanalyze me.” He sips his drink.
“Then it’s settled. We’re all going. Now that we have Dom, it’s perfect. It’ll lower the cost even more.” She pulls out her phone.
“You have Bella’s phone number?” I ask, glancing over her shoulder.
“Oh no, you don’t. You want her number, man up and ask her for it.” Annie swivels so she’s facing me, and the phone screen is facing Enzo.
“I’m not going,” I say.
“Why not?” Enzo asks.
“I have no time for that. I have three months to sell out an entire floor for the biggest developer in New York.” I sip my beer, staring at the four other spots and wishing the chairs would fill up so we can move on from this conversation.
“You’re going. You’re a workaholic who needs a break. Sooner or later, we’re all going to have kids and we won’t be able to do these things anymore. Let’s enjoy it while we can.”
I roll my eyes. “Speak for yourself.”
She stares at me as though she’s exhausted by the words coming out of my mouth. “It’s final, Carm. Your mom is really worried about you and she said—”
We’re interrupted by the curtain opening, and in walks Mauro with a pretty brunette.
“Mauro!” Enzo says, standing.
Annie follows suit.
Dom nudges me when I’m the only one not standing.
“This is Maddie,” our cousin Mauro says. “Maddie, this is Enzo, Carm, Dom, and…”
“Annie,” Enzo says, his hand on the small of her back.
The two women shake hands while we all take turns saying hello and hugging Maddie to our chests. We’re Italian, enough said.
“Someone message Blanca,” Dom says.
But we all sit, no one grabbing their phone. Annie huffs, pulls out hers, and texts.
“So wedding, huh?” I say after we’re all seated.
“I can’t believe it, but we’re more than ready.” Mauro grabs Maddie’s hand under the table and she smiles at him like Annie does Enzo. I swear my lunch curdles in my stomach.
“That’s awesome,” I say because I can tell my cousin is happy.
“When’s the bachelor party?” Dom asks.
Mauro glances at Maddie, who’s smiling as though they’ve talked about it at length.
“Mine will be low-key in Chicago, but word is Luca’s will be in Vegas.”
“Love that guy,” I say and sip my beer.
“Carm’s the youngest of the Mancinis,” Mauro says to Maddie.
“Makes sense,” s
he says with a nod.
“Doesn’t it?” Annie tucks her phone away, always straddling two conversations at the same time. “They’re parking.”
“Why wouldn’t they valet?” Dom asks.
“Because not everyone has the money.” Annie’s always ready to remind Dom that not everyone lives in a world with doormen and private elevators.
“I work hard for that money.”
She gives him her most innocent look. “I never said you didn’t.”
Maddie laughs, and we all turn to her. “You guys are funny. I mean, I guess we all have our own banter. I kind of can’t wait for you to meet Lauren.” She points at me.
Mauro slides his arm behind her chair. “That’ll be fun.”
“Lauren is…?” Please tell me they aren’t going to try the whole fix up thing too.
“Luca’s fiancée.” Mauro seems to question why I wouldn’t know that.
All I keep up with is the tally Ma’s doing. One of her boys has settled down but hasn’t put a ring on it yet, and the other two are single. Blanca is dating some guy who won’t valet in Manhattan. Ma probably looks at the scoreboard and sees how uneven it is.
“She really gave him a fight,” Enzo chimes in. He spent a small amount of time with all of them in Chicago when my zia was sick last year.
“How is Zia?” I ask, steering this conversation away from relationships.
“She’s really good. Super healthy and walking every day.” Maddie answers for Mauro like Annie answers for Enzo when it comes to Ma.
Obviously the same has happened with them—the moms gravitate to the new daughters they acquire. Especially Zia Maria, since she never had a daughter of her own.
“That’s great,” Annie says, and the two of them fall into a conversation.
Blanca finally comes in with some douchebag wearing a fedora and black T-shirt matched with tight jeans. Total hipster. Where the hell does she find these guys? I haven’t liked any guy she’s dated since that Jake guy Annie used to work with, but apparently there weren’t any “sparks” between them. Now that I think about it, Enzo was the one who set her up with him. It’s official—Blanca has the worst track record for picking guys.