The Vault Collection [Volume One]

by A. D. Justice

  “Will you be there, too?” I asked her.

  “Of course. The whole family will be there, like always. It’s tradition. You call me Aunt Maria, yes?”

  Then she was gone. Apparently, questions were demands in his family. Damon sat, fork in hand to eat, but closely watched my reaction. “It’ll be fine, Jillian. My mother wants to meet you. Now that Aunt Maria has met you, we don’t have a choice but to go together. Mama’s feelings will be hurt if she’s left out.”

  “You’re guilt-tripping me into meeting your mother.”

  That smile. Again. The mischievous glint in his eyes. “Absolutely.”

  I was beyond stuffed when we finished lunch, and Damon took me back to work. He walked me to the door, and when I thought he’d turn and leave, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me senseless instead.

  “The only reason I’m letting you go back in with no panties is because I know you need your job to help your mother. Otherwise, you wouldn’t leave my side the rest of the day.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. His words were sexist and crass, but the inflection in his voice and the expression in his eyes told me so much more. Our relationship, if I could even call it that, was complex. The sex was off the charts hot. The connection between us was strong. But we hadn’t had enough time to establish trust or even to get to know each other intimately, other than sexually.

  “Damon, I know words only go so far, but I still want to tell you. I don’t know where this is going between us, or if it’s even going anywhere. But, as strongly as you feel about staking your claim on me, I feel the same about you. I’m not the least bit interested in any other man. I’ve never been one to date more than one guy at a time anyway, but I’d never disrespect you like that. Tell me now if you plan to see other women.”

  “Would you walk away from me if I did?”

  His question felt like a kick to my stomach, but only forty-eight hours of close contact didn’t give me much leverage. “Yes, I would.”

  “Good answer. Looks like you’re stuck with me, doll.” He sensed the change in me after that question, the doubt it brought to the forefront of my mind. The uneasiness that wasn’t there before. “Jillian, I’ve never taken a woman home to meet my mother, much less to attend our family dinner. That’s a big deal in my family. Everyone comes over—aunts, uncles, cousins—and our family is huge.

  “I’m a man of my word, and I promise you’ll be the only woman I see. Honestly, I just wanted to know that you’d stand up to me if I pushed. And you didn’t let me down.”

  “Fortunately, I have a big set of balls, and I even know how to use them.”

  My smartass remark didn’t faze him. In fact, I think his smirk and amusement increased. “Funny, I didn’t find any balls when I thoroughly examined you with my tongue last night.”

  “Don’t make me have to take them out of my purse.”

  He leaned his head back and roared with laughter. “So feisty. I like it.” After another scorching hot kiss, he kept his arms around my waist and pulled his face back to look directly into my eyes. “I’ll be back to pick you up and take you to your apartment—where I’ll stay with you tonight.”

  “All right.” I played it off like his declaration didn’t affect me, but it did. He affected me in so many ways.

  With my focus on what our night together would hold, I went back to work in my temporary office. Every time I walked into that space, I felt like I was intruding on someone else’s life. Pictures of the man and his family still sat in frames on the credenza. His name was still displayed on the plaque on the door. His files and notes still sat on the corner of the desk. But Lisa, the woman in the next office, said he hadn’t called in or shown up for work all week. She said he’d been a good employee and everyone was worried about him.

  Milo Bianchi left several personal items and a lot of unfinished work behind if he just up and quit.

  I pushed thoughts of him aside and dove back into the work waiting for me. The other area of Blaine Financial I’d worked in the first several weeks after I arrived was in much better shape. The retirement funds were a complete mess. Maybe that’s why Milo quit without so much as a goodbye—making sense of the deposits, payments, accrued interest, and final balances was a nightmare.

  A knock on my office door startled me, making me jerk my head up and release a slight yelp. Lisa chuckled, a warm smile covering her face, and pointed to her watch. “It’s after five o’clock on a Friday afternoon, girl. Are you ready to quit for the day, or are you spending the night here?”

  After a quick glance at the clock, I stood and stretched, stiff from sitting in one position for hours. “I’m definitely ready to quit, but I’m nowhere near figuring this out. I think I’ll have to take this to my apartment and work on it more over the weekend.”

  I packed my laptop and files in my bag, grabbed my purse, and hurried outside to meet Damon. When I stepped through the door, Damon’s angry glare stopped me in my tracks. “What’s wrong?”

  He pushed off the car and stalked toward me. If looks could kill, his fierce expression would’ve already murdered me. As he approached, I realized he wasn’t looking at me—he was looking just over the top of my head. I turned to find Lorenzo close on my heels, his arm extending over me to hold the door open. I realized how my tardiness must appear. Lorenzo was a handsome man, close to Damon’s age, tall and well-built. His expensive tailored suits accentuated his good looks and fit him perfectly.

  “Nothing’s wrong, doll.” Damon pulled my body into his and pressed his lips against mine. My automatic response had me melting into his touch. His tongue swiped across my lips, and I immediately yielded.

  When we came up for air, I remembered Lorenzo was standing behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and watched as the sneer aimed at Damon turned into a friendly smile when his eyes moved to meet mine. “Good night, Jillian. I’ll see you Monday.”

  “Good night.” A couple of seconds passed before I could reply, and my words came out stammered. He’d spoken to me only once before, but the familiar tone he used with me in front of Damon was different.

  Damon’s hand on my lower back gently pushed me toward his car, so I decided to wait until we were inside to ask him about that heated, wordless exchange. He slid in beside me, with Benny behind the wheel, and closed the door. I stared at him for several long seconds, waiting for the muscle in his jaw to stop jumping,

  “Something on your mind, doll?” His words were clipped, and his face held a hard edge, as if he barely held on to the little restraint he had.

  “What was that all about?”

  “What?”

  “I’m a lot of things, Damon, but I’m not stupid. You know Lorenzo.”

  “I know him.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything when I told you he came to my office?”

  “Because your boss and I are not friends. Never have been, never will be, and I didn’t want my personal dealings with him to cause you any discomfort at work.”

  “So that public display of affection was nothing more than showing you were happy to see me?”

  He dropped his head toward his lap, and a small smile played on his lips. “It may have been a little more than that.” His gaze lifted to meet mine, the small smile morphing into the full-blown irresistible one. “But, for the record, I am happy to see you.”

  “I think you know exactly what that smile does to me,” I accused, narrowing my eyes at him while trying to hide my own grin.

  His brown eyes darkened with hunger. “I didn’t know my smile did anything to you, but I’d love to hear all about it.”

  The car stopped in front of my apartment building, and he jerked the door open, grabbing my laptop bag in one hand and my hand in the other. “Take the night off, Benny.”

  “Thanks, boss,” Benny replied just before the door slammed shut.

  Captivated by the desire in Damon’s expression, I felt the tingling in my belly multiply after his next words. “Instead of telling me w
hat my smile does to you, I’d rather you show me. When we’re alone. And naked.”

  Chapter Seven

  Damon

  “Mr. Marchetti, this was delivered for you earlier.” The front desk security guard produced my small suitcase from behind the counter.

  “Thank you.” I grabbed the handle on my way past and keep walking toward the elevator.

  I didn’t miss the knowing smirk on Jillian’s face. She knew the kiss served two purposes—I was glad to see her, but it was also meant to demonstrate I knew what the bastard was up to. Since I knew how he normally operated, I expected that pathetic attempt wouldn’t be his last.

  Fucking Lorenzo.

  He showed me just how close he can get to Jillian, even with me standing directly in front of her. His arm was extended over her head. A flick of his wrist later, she could’ve been killed. He caught her totally unaware, and even after we left, she didn’t realize how close of a brush with death she’d just had. Lorenzo tested the amount of discipline and self-control I had, because I wanted to level my 9mm squarely between his eyes more than I wanted my next breath.

  The distrust he tried to create between Jillian and me only pissed me off even more. Her confused reaction after his pathetic move wasn’t an act—she wore her feelings on her sleeve way too much. She thought I kissed her only to mark my territory, warning her boss that she was already taken. But that wasn’t my reason, and Lorenzo knew it.

  When she surrendered to me in front of him, she declared her allegiance to the Marchetti family. She announced her loyalty to me. With a heated public kiss, we warned Lorenzo not to attempt to come between us. If he had any doubts before, he knew she was mine afterward—in every sense of the claim.

  The elevator doors opened, and we walked to her apartment.

  “You are completely lost in thought. Have you heard anything I said?” Jillian put her hand on her hip and tilted her head at me, daring me to lie.

  So I smiled and watched how her expression immediately softened. “I’m sorry, doll. I was just thinking about a couple of things I need to talk to my dad about—business stuff. I don’t want to do it while we’re having dinner with everyone, but I also don’t want to give up any of my time alone with you.”

  I took the keys from her hand and unlocked her door, entering first as a precaution. That act was a Marchetti-man expectation, instilled in us from birth.

  “Talk to your dad while I soak in the tub. I’ll have dinner delivered so we’ll have the entire night to ourselves.” She dropped her purse on the entry table and kicked off her shoes.

  “I don’t know how you expect me to get any business done with visions of you all wet, naked, and alone in the tub.” I soaked in her form, starting from her bare feet and making my way up to meet her gaze.

  “We all have our burdens to bear, don’t we?” Her sassy Louisiana accent matched the smile plastered across her beautiful face. “Actually, I use my tub-soaking time to call my mom. She likes to hear about my work, especially when I’m traveling. Picturing me talking to my mom should help while you finish your business with your dad.”

  “Now I have no choice but to create new visions of you naked in the tub. No offense to your mom, but I can’t have that visual in my head for long.” My expression was purposely blank to match my deadpan reply. My empty countenance only seemed to amuse her more, and within seconds, she was unable to hide her laughter.

  She was so different from everyone else in my life. Naïve to the danger surrounding her. She wasn’t jaded like I was—suspicious of everyone and every move they made, always looking for the ulterior motive that may give them the upper hand over me. She trusted me with her life—literally. She had no idea a cutthroat assassin roamed freely in her home, slept next to her in bed, and thoroughly satisfied her body. She didn’t look at me with fear in her eyes. She didn’t jump at my commands because she knew any sign of disrespect would be the last thing she ever did.

  The hunger, respect, and affection her eyes held were for Damon, the man. Not Damon, the mafia capo. Not the ruthless killer. Not the son of the Marchetti Family Boss and nephew of the Underboss. Not the man groomed to take over once the Boss relinquished control. When she looked at me, I felt the difference to the point I craved it. In a city of over eight million people, she was the only one who saw past my steel outer shell.

  “When we finish our phone calls, you just tell me how I can correct those visions for you. Maybe you can even join me so I can have my own fantasies about you.”

  “That fucking mouth.” I shook my head at her antics, but the heat in the room rose ten degrees without warning.

  “My mouth? It’s all yours…don’t take too long.”

  She walked toward the bathroom, her hips swaying with as much deadly intent and purpose as if she’d drawn a gun on me…only her movements had a very different meaning and created a very different reaction. But business had to be handled before I joined her. After I heard the water running and the soft murmur of her voice greeting her mother, I walked into the kitchen and called my father’s cell.

  I explained the situation with Lorenzo and how I’d established my claim on Jillian in front of him. “It’s time to tell her and give her the option to stay or leave, Dad. She’s been loyal to me. I have no reason to believe she won’t continue to be.”

  “No.”

  “Pardon?” I was sure he’d misunderstood me, but I knew better than to outright argue with him.

  “Not until your mother meets and approves of her. If she gives her blessing, then you can tell Jillian. If not, then you can sever ties, and she’ll be none the wiser.”

  “Understood. But what if she’s in danger from Lorenzo? He would’ve taken her public display of affection as a pledge to our family.”

  “Not if she’s working for him.”

  “Do you know something I don’t know?” I’d considered that possibility at one time, but I had since dismissed it. Had I missed something?

  “I know your mother hasn’t approved of her yet. Bring her tomorrow. We’ll know soon enough.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  We chatted for a few minutes longer about other business matters, but the conversation never returned to Jillian. My dad’s elusive answers were intentional but not dismissive—if she were hiding anything, he’d find it. For him to insist she meet Mama, I knew he wasn’t overly concerned with anything related to Jillian. We hung up, and I walked to her bedroom, my steps purposely silent as I approached her bathroom door.

  The sound of her sweet giggles mixed with splashes of water caught my attention. The suspicious man in me said to eavesdrop, see if it was really her mother on the line. When I heard her describe me—my handsome face, sexy body, masculine air, and protective nature—a twinge of a feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time bubbled to the surface. Guilt for doubting her squeezed my chest. I hung my head and absorbed the affection in her tone—affection for the man she thought I was.

  “Mom, I really want you to meet him. Damon isn’t like any man I’ve ever met in Abita Springs. Our little town of twenty-five-hundred people wouldn’t know how to act around a man who’s so dominant, refined, and doting all at the same time. Hopefully, I can convince him to make the trip down there. I’ve already suggested he should come to Mardi Gras with me, so we’ll see. Keep your fingers crossed.”

  I rested my forehead against the door and closed my eyes, listening to her every word. My purpose was no longer to eavesdrop out of suspicion. No, I was listening out of admiration and fondness at that point. Her tone and inflection carried her love for her mother through the air, wrapping me in its natural warmth. Her Louisiana twang was more pronounced when speaking to her mother, and I couldn’t help but smile to myself because of it.

  A few minutes later, she promised to call back again the next day and disconnected after sending her love. The sound of water pouring from the tub faucet masked any other noise from inside the room. From her promise earlier, I presumed she was reheating the water for
me to join her. Before she called my cell and caught me hovering outside the door, I rapped on it with my knuckles a couple of times before entering.

  She flashed a seductive smile over her shoulder. “You’re just in time, Mr. Marchetti.”

  My clothes dissolved into a pile on the floor in an instant. Jillian wet, naked, and waiting for me in the tub was all I needed to go from zero to full mast in under a second. I jumped into the tub, sending water sloshing over the sides, and caged her underneath me. Her bubble-bath-slicked skin was my siren call, one I was compelled to answer. She welcomed me without hesitation, without question. I swept my tongue across her lower lip, and she invited me in. My tongue slid against hers, devouring her sweetness and demanding more.

  With a swipe of my knee, her legs parted, welcoming me to take my place between them. My engorged cock slid against the sensitive skin of her nether lips. I felt the heat from her pussy over and above the hot water surrounding us. The fiery desire in her eyes burned through me, and my relentless self-control disappeared. Only she could so easily disarm me, distract me, and consume my thoughts.

  She thought I’d stand out in a town of twenty-five hundred.

  But she stood out in a city of eight million.

  She bent her knees, and I took full advantage of having unimpeded access to her sex. With a swift thrust, I buried myself inside her until my balls slapped against her ass. Her cries of pleasure mixed with my carnal grunt. Her velvety inner muscles squeezed around me as I slid in and out of her. Moans and screams filled the room so loudly I was surprised the neighbors weren’t complaining. The pressure increased with every forward surge, and before long I had to grit my teeth to prolong the inevitable.

  When her nails scored the skin on my back, I surrendered my control and melted into my own release. My lips immediately sought hers, instantly connecting on a deeper level when our mouths fused together. Drawing in a deep breath, I moved my lips along her cheek to her neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses on her heated skin.

  Then I froze when reality hit me squarely between the fucking eyes. “Fuck, Jillian. I’m sorry, doll.” I scraped my hand over my face, disbelief of what I’d done washing over me.