Among the Flames (Kisses and Crimes Book 3)
Page 19
They never caught her Godmother.
Gio refused to talk about it. He said that he was shielding me from the consequences of a secret that wasn’t meant to be shared, a scandal in which I should not be involved. I couldn’t lie: a part of me believed him, understood it as a former agent, because what you knew could kill you…
But then there was that other part that knew there was so more to the story…
That part of me that was keeping my own.
I wanted to be as transparent as the floor-to-ceiling window I was looking out of, but the elevated airport hanger we were waiting in didn’t help me open up. To tell Gio that I’d already known the truth about my father—the real one. I’d known all about who he was and what he’d done.
The part he had in my mother’s murder. The part he had yet to play in the story of my life. Our lives.
It seemed that all of the world were waiting for the infamous Senator Robert Fletcher to wake up from his coma—me, most of all. I failed at saving my mom. I wouldn’t fail at saving Penelope Castalano.
My boss. And one of the truest friends I ever had the pleasure of knowing.
I couldn’t believe we were on our way to see her, to see all of them. I stared out the glass in the private hangar, high above the beaches that stretched past Bangkok. I secretly counted down the hours. I didn’t know Gio was behind me until he leaned into my ear, whispering.
“You can see New York from here.”
I could hear myself swallow. “You can?”
“Yes.” He pressed against me, nearly pushing my body into the see-through wall. He put one large hand over my tiny one, positioning my fingers over my own. He pointed in the distance at nothing, and I listened to his heart thump harder as he touched me.
“You see? There. That’s where you arrested Mr. Wells, the monster who was beating his kids to death.” He moved my hand. “And there? That’s where you stopped Martha Fargo’s husband from slitting her throat. You nearly died when you did, knocking him to the floor just as his blade tried to shove into her belly. I can feel the stitches, the scar where he sliced the skin across your palm. Oh… And here…” He slid my fingers down the glass. “The Santini boy you got off the streets…just before the Gafanelli gang could sink their dirty claws into him. There he is, graduating high school, something he never thought he’d do, if it hadn’t been for you. He starts at junior college next week. He cried when they put the diploma in his hand.”
And I was crying too. Sobbing silently as he spread my fingers beneath his, gripping them ever so slightly against the shining surface. I saw his reflection behind me, pressing me seductively against the heavily glazed glass.
And I could see myself. I could finally see myself as he saw me.
“Can’t you tell?” He hissed, his cool breath stretching across my neck. “You have never failed, Sienna… Your mother knew what you are, who you are, and so have I. It’s been a pleasure watching you. I got to see everything—everything that you are. And before we leave our old selves behind, I just want you to know…” He sighed softly. “That it was a wonderful fucking show seeing your transformation into the new one.”
He exhaled, and as he did, I took him in, inhaling every bit of breath that he’d just lost. I turned to him, and when I did, I found lying in his eyes a sense of discovery, not loss. It was as if he were seeing me for the first time.
He held the tip of my chin in his hands, and as I contemplated what I wanted to do with him, he took the decision out of my grasp, crushing himself to me. He wrapped his hands around the small of my back, and when I lifted myself on my toes to meet his kiss, he caressed every inch of my lips with his own, exploring. Some small part of him seemed to hesitate, holding back just a second longer, before he finally threw the fucking caution to the wind. And with that, Gio brought me into the center of his chaos, the middle of his harried embrace. He ripped at my clothes just as I pulled at his, and as we wrestled with the zippers and buttons and fabric that wrapped us, we never stopped kissing, never separated our lips from the other as if the very thought could strangle us, as if suffocation were the only other option.
As if we couldn’t breathe without each other.
I was starting to feel like I couldn’t. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
On our road to redemption, traveling towards a future that remained unknown, we were our versions of Donovan Bishop—new fugitives. On the run from people that sought to squeeze Gio for everything he was, that would suck him dry for his “professional services,” we shed our skin to become new people, refusing to let history repeat itself.
I was glad to be rid of the mask I’d worn for the world, happy for it to be gone. Giovanni had changed all of what we had uncovered each other. Our new lives were just taking form.
And thought the secrets had yet to stop, I had hope that they soon would with where we were going, the answers we’d find there.
I placed a piece of blonde hair behind my ear, tugging at my wig. I no longer had to pretend to be an imposter like Gio. Now? I was one.
I was jumping into my international life of discovery with him at my side, and together we would take down his client, the senator—all of them, anyone in our way.
Sienna Santiago was starting anew with the man, Salt, who’d washed her past away. And though each night they were new people, though they sometimes had to take the time to remember where one of them ended and the other began, they never quit reminding themselves of the people they were inside, the life-lovers they’d become with each other.
This wasn’t the end. Not for us. Not for me. It was nothing more than a beautiful transformation, the awakening of the butterfly.
It wasn’t the beginning of my end…
It was the end of our beginning.
SNEAK PEEK:
Kisses and Crimes FOUR
I don’t remember the drive back to Javi’s house. I don’t remember pulling into his large driveway.
I don’t remember easing the Audi into his garage, and even then, it is a blur for several seconds after, as I watch Javi walk away, phone still in hand, heading firmly in the direction of his home office. My consciousness comes rushing back to me in that empty garage, and when it does, it feels like I am stuck in the air, moving through a clear-coated molasses, unable to function with any sense of haste.
It’s amazing how the human mind works.
For as short as the trek between Javi’s garage and the inside of his house really is, to me? Tonight? It is one of the longest walks I have ever known. My grocery bags are inexplicably and impossibly heavy. My chest feels depleted of air.
And my formerly quick feet?
Well, they seem to be filled with a type of imaginary lead, and somehow, it seems no matter how fast I pick up my legs, I am moving nowhere and the distance between Javi’s parked Audi and my temporary room only gets longer and harder to surmount with each step.
And it is all in my mind—my heavily taxed mind that is practically raging with unfamiliar energy: an unsettling mix of anxiety, dread… and rejection.
He doesn’t want me anymore.
And I should’ve been counting down the moments until he finally decided to stop. I should’ve stopped myself long ago, when it was just harmless flirting. As a matter of fact…
I never should have started it in the first place.
Because the second I laid eyes on him, the second he reached out at that party and wrapped his hand around my wrist, I felt the same jolt that I know he did—a pang of excitement, lust and curiosity.
I knew it couldn’t be quenched with a simple “hello” and “goodbye.” I knew it couldn’t just end there.
My curious hands wandered into the flame between us and got irreparably burned. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything… and I hate him for it.
I’m uncomfortable in this skin; I’m uncomfortable without control. And today was a day that I realized that as of now—as of this moment—I don’t have any.
Not with my busi
ness or my life… or Javi. I’ve never been much of a player. But if it’s a game he wants, then game on. I’m through with his diversions.
I’m all alone in this.
I make the decision right when I get to my room, sitting my bags down by the door. I let a box of cupcakes tumble to the floor, touching the tips of my high heels—the remnants of an earlier meeting gone wrong.
I’m going to fuck Javi the way that he’s fucked me… and then I’m going to forget him. The backs of my eyes start to sting with unshed tears as I send up a silent prayer that the Marriott has soft sheets.
In the upstairs confines of my temporary room, I unhook the buttons of my business shirt, slipping out of my pencil skirt within seconds. I stand there in front of a massive mirror, watching myself in my lace underwear set, my fingertips trailing along the edge of my overexposed cleavage.
My white button down hangs loosely on my shoulders, its opening providing a palm-sized peek of skin from the neck down to my hip.
My hair sits in a disheveled state, its waves casually tossed back and to the side, the auburn ends reaching towards a once-crisp collar that’s now tinged with drops of sweat.
I close my eyes, gathering the nerve I thought was lost… and then I descend. The patter of my high-heeled steps is surprisingly soft as I take the stairs, reaching the end of the marble and heading across the kitchen and open den.
I turn a corner to peek into the office… and he is right where I left him.
Javi… clad in muted grey attire, perched on the corner of his large oak desk, his phone still in his hand, the soft waves of his dark brown hair brushed back with the same type of frustrated fingers that slung my hair across my shoulders.
I can tell that exasperated hands have met those strands, desperate digits that sought to find relief, some type of release that could not truly be reached.
I recognize it because I’ve been doing the same for days.
I stand at the threshold of the office, watching… waiting for him to notice me. He talks quietly on the phone, animatedly. The jealousy I feel is strong, but it is no match for the anticipation that’s beating in my chest.
“Look, I don’t know what else to say to convince you…”
The sentence is cut short. Javi finally sees me standing there… and the expression on his face is worth every bit of my wait.
He never takes his eyes off of me.
“I’ll call you back,” he murmurs into the phone. He sets it down without a second glance. His reaction bolsters my bold move.
I touch the buttons at my chest. “Now, do I have your attention?”
He stands, looking impossibly sexy in his softer grey shirt and slacks.
“Delilah,” he breathes my name. “What are you doing?”
I walk towards him with my head held high, my heels clicking slowly against the wooden flooring of his grandiose office. Each characteristic tap is its own saving grace, and I have to concentrate on the sound to keep my feet moving in his direction.
I’m going to do this. I’m going to take back control.
“What am I doing?” I move in closer, hearing my own breathing grow shallower with each stride.
“Well, if it isn’t as obvious to you as it is to me at this point, let me spell it out. I’m here to fuck you, Javier. I’m here to get my own needs out of the way—just like you got yours. Tonight, I’ll pretend that you’re someone else and that I’m someone else… I’ll pretend that I’m you. And so tonight, I will fuck the shit out of you… and tomorrow? I will leave you… this house… and whatever the hell this was between us behind me.”
I straighten my back, hardening my jaw, and letting all of the animalistic lust that Javi can’t help but instill in me breathe with renewed life. I let myself feel… and not think.
He squints his eyes curiously at me, and I think my heart skips a beat. His fingers tighten noticeably on the edge of his desk, and his bottom lips falls slightly downwards. Suddenly, he slams a hand on the desk, startling me. He circles his desk, sitting in the large leather seat behind it. He looks at anything but me.
Javi opens his laptop.
“I don’t have time for this, Delilah.”
I don’t waver. “Well, then we’d better make this quick.”
I approach the desk, sliding a hand across it. He slaps a hand across mine, stilling my movement. I peek downwards into his face. His green eyes narrow with latent warning.
“Del, I’m serious… Don’t do this.”
I feign innocence, sauntering around the desk in front of Javi’s slowly widening eyes.
“This?” I ask. “You mean getting half-naked? You mean coming here? You mean telling you to fuck me?”
Javi inhales sharply, his lower jaw grinding ever so slightly. His nostrils flare.
“All of it, Delilah. This isn’t what you want or need.”
I stop in front of him.
“I’m not Delilah, remember? I’m you. And as Javi Mondello, I can tell you that you’re wrong… this is exactly what I want. And this is more than what I need.”
He leans forward in his chair, seemingly prepared to stand. “Look, if you need to talk…”
I make my move. I interrupt him, sitting abruptly in his lap. But I am not cuddled up like a child; I am straddling him, and the satin and lace of my panties plants itself firmly between his thighs, while each of my bare legs dangles seductively where the arm rests would normally be.
Javi’s eyes grow inflamed.
“I don’t need to talk anymore,” I tell him, gazing straight into his face. “I think you know what I need.” I hesitate a beat. “You… You’re what I need.”
And then I kiss him.
I squeeze my body into his, attempting to push all of Delilah Castalano’s thoughts out of my head. Tonight, I’m Javier Mondello. I’m stone-cold… and I am going to play this game until my last piece is off of the table.
I do a pretty good job of being Javi, too, because the former Javi’s body responds on impact, his cock growing hard and strong between my legs that are aching for his touch. Even fully clothed, he is rock solid, and I rub the top of my slit across his steel-colored slacks, lowering my pussy lips so that they sit on the length of him while the lips on my face lick the skin at his jaw.
He groans. “I’m not nice enough for this shit.”
My mouth roams lower. “Don’t be nice. Be you.”
His chuckle is low—gruff. “I thought you were me tonight. Besides… me is bad for you, Del.”
And don’t I know it.
But I need to put the cards back on my side; I need to even the odds of this twisted little game. I unbutton Javi’s collar and shirtfront, biting his chest until my lips press against the dip above his abdomen. The muscle there is harder than any marble, and the skin above it is smoother than silk, its surface peppered with light brown fuzz, punctuated by small dots of chocolate-colored freckles.
I slide my bottom backwards almost onto his knees so that my tongue can travel.
Lower. Lower. And lower…
It is too much. For me and him. The route is torturous, and I know that it is driving him crazy. He grinds his normally controlled hips towards the center of my pussy.
He wants in. And I am drugged by the control.
It’s intoxicating… to watch Javi lose it, to watch his command slip from his grasp and into mine. I need to push him over this edge. I sink to my knees in front of his chair, and his eyes widen deliciously. I can see the hunger in his irises, and it turns me on like nothing I have ever known.
I unzip the fly of his pants slowly. He stares into my eyes through every second.
“We are going to ruin each other.” His statement is spoken softly with a scary finality.
I can’t respond; he’s right… and the only thing that I can do is nod. I’ve already forgotten the game I was playing and all of a sudden, it doesn’t matter who I am.
Javi.
Delilah.
Hell, fucking Chewbacca.
I uncover his immaculate cock and before he can properly finish his statement, my mouth is on him. I take complete control of Javi’s body, and I feel a power that I’d forgotten I possessed.
I draw him deeper and deeper, licking and plunging his hardened silk into my mouth that is eager for his taste. With every dip along my tongue, I bring him closer to the brink, and it is only when I know he is begging for it, only when I know his body yearns to be released, that I relinquish my hold on over to him.
And Javi is only too happy to receive it.
He grips the back of my head, pressing himself further into my soaking mouth. It is a slow, firm push—a skilled move that doesn’t force but encourages.
Mmmm. He makes every maneuver somehow ten times better.
I can feel my throat relax around Javi’s cock, and I take him to unachieved depths. There isn’t anything that Javi can’t do well, and like the sex god I’m starting to believe he is, he fucks my mouth like a pro, guiding the length of his dick into the recesses of my open mouth.
It is one fluid motion that slides him far inside, letting my throat accommodate him comfortably before he draws back out again. Already, he can tell my limit and teeters along its fine line.
What a fucking ride.
And in several more instants, Javi grows harder than ever, his cock becoming a brazen brass under a sheath of satin. The taste of him is fucking exquisite, and I quicken my pace, speeding up my tongue’s strokes to push him to the precipice.
Come for me, Javi. Lose control.
But he doesn’t.
Just when I know he’s on the edge, he lifts me from my knees, gripping underneath of my arms to place my back in his lap.
He wants me to fuck him.
And that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Kick these panties to the side and ride Javi until he can barely say my name. He clutches the back of my neck, fiercely whispering above my mouth.