He gives me his weight, burying his face in the crook of my neck and instinctively I wrap my arms and legs around him, holding him to me.
“You're making me soft,” I whisper once I’ve caught my breath.
Lifting his head, he looks down at me.
“Say what?”
“I’m not the girl who has the urge to cuddle after sex.”
A blank expression crosses his face before he pushes himself up and starts to roll off me. My legs tighten around his waist, keeping him in place and he raises an eyebrow quizzically.
“But I want to right now,” I continue. As soon as the words leave my lips, I feel my cheeks heat. Marco grins back at me and wraps his arms around my waist, rolling us so we’re both on our sides, our legs intertwined.
“I like you soft,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t usually cuddle either.”
“Not part of the gentleman code of ethics?”
He laughs, curling a strand of my hair around his finger.
“Actually, you’re the first girl to spend the night in my bed.”
That surprises me considering he was so adamant about this little sleepover.
“Why me?”
He looks at me thoughtfully before shrugging his shoulders.
“Just feels right.”
I guess that’s all it takes for someone to let down their guard and change their way of thinking. One feeling, a sense of belonging. It’s not something you plan, it just happens. Mostly when you least expect it and sometimes with a person you never imagined being with.
“Now, get some rest. I’m gonna be ready to go again in an hour and this time, I want you on top.”
* * *
I woke up to the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of bacon sizzling in a frying pan. In other words, I woke to bliss. I had no idea how Marco managed to function so early, especially after sleeping all of three hours. I could barely get it together to take a shower.
But I wasn’t complaining.
Last night was single-handedly one of the best nights of my life and this morning wasn’t so bad either. After I showered, I joined him in the kitchen for a quick breakfast. He was dressed casually, but his uniform hung on a hook by the door. When it was time for us to get a move on, he grabbed it and draped it over his arm, before pressing his free hand to the small of my back and ushering me out the door. I sort of wished I could’ve seen him in that uniform again. The first time I was too pissed to truly appreciate it.
Once we were in the car and on the road, I dug into my bag and pulled out my phone. I hadn’t bothered to look at it once since he picked me up and it was now dead. Luckily, Marco had a charger in his car, and I plugged it in. As soon as it came on it started dinging with voicemails and text messages. Before I could grab it myself, Marco beat me to it. Lifting it from the center console, he glanced down at the screen briefly before handing it to me.
The screen showed a text alert from my father and one from Hound and a whopping thirteen voicemails. Deciding I would deal with them later, I pulled the phone from the charger and shoved it back in my bag. For the next few minutes we were both silent. I knew Marco had seen Hound’s name, and I debated if I should address it, but what would I say? I wasn’t ready to break our little bubble and reveal my father was a criminal.
Now, we’re a block away from the office and I really don’t want to say goodbye. Especially with how much the mood has changed since my phone went off like the Fourth of July.
He pulls into the garage and my stomach plummets when I spot Ritmo parked in his usual spot. The car comes to a halt and I turn just as Marco drops the gear shift into park.
“You’re coming up with me?” I ask.
Shit. What if Ritmo tries to talk to me? I don’t need a reenactment of the night Marco brought my license to my house.
Flashing me a smile, he opens his door.
“Yeah, I figured we’d tell Soraya the good news.”
My eyes must go wide as saucers because he laughs. The last thing I want is to announce to my boss I just spent the night having mind-blowing sex with her friend.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I tell him.
“Why not? Now she can finally get off my back.”
“Because it’s inappropriate?”
“How is it inappropriate for you and me to have dinner with Tig and Delia? ? It gets them to the party, and that’s all Soraya cares about.”
My nerves settle slightly.
“Oh, you’re talking about next weekend.”
He grins at me.
“You thought I was going to march into Soraya’s office and tell her I fucked you senseless last night and made you come five times?”
Curling my lip, I smack his arm.
“Very funny.”
“She’s going to know, Antonia,” he says with a laugh. “You’re glowing.”
“I am not glowing.”
“You’re smiling. That’s just as good as glowing in my book.”
Subconsciously I lift a hand to my lips and wouldn’t you know it, he’s right. I’m smiling and it’s not even noon.
“Let’s go, before you’re late and she thinks it’s because we had a quickie in the backseat.”
He exits the car and I hurry to do the same, fearing if he rounds the car and opens the door for me, he’ll spot Ritmo. I slam the door shut and hurry toward him. Grabbing his hand, I pull him toward the building. Once we hit the doors to the elevator, Marco stabs the button with his thumb and I glance over my shoulder, stealing a glance at Ritmo, who slowly walks toward us. The elevator doors open and Marco steps in. Knowing as soon as he turns around, he’ll be face to face with Ritmo, I push Marco against the wall of the elevator and press my lips to his. It’s the perfect distraction and by the time the elevator doors close, Marco’s got both hands on my ass and I’m fisting his shirt. The elevator dings, and we pull apart.
“What was that for?”
“I’m glowing, remember?” I reply, wiping the lipstick from his lips.
“Yeah, we’re a dead giveaway,” he mutters as the doors open.
Pulling away from him, I step off the elevator first and find Penelope and Soraya arguing at the reception desk. Their bickering comes to a halt as Marco lets out a whistle and both their gazes shoot to us.
“Good morning, dollface,” Marco greets.
Soraya eyes him skeptically.
“Why are you so chipper? Did you arrest a little old lady for jaywalking?”
I laugh and instantly regret it because her eyes dart to me. Crossing her arms over her chest, she raises an eyebrow.
“I guess the edible fruit arrangement worked.”
“Like a fucking charm,” Marco says, throwing an arm around my shoulders. He pulls me into the crook of his arm and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Good news, I have it all worked out for next Saturday.”
“You figured out how to get them to the party?”
“Yep. After going on and on about Antonia here, Tig told me he wanted to meet her. Antonia has agreed to take one for the team and instead of cutting me loose, she’s going to go on another date with me. I’ll call him when I get off work and set it up, but I don’t see him saying no when it was his idea.”
“So, you actually didn’t figure out shit.”
“Not exactly,” he admits. “But it’s all taken care of.”
Soraya rolls her eyes before looking at me.
“Well, thanks, Antonia. You know, for suffering through another week with this guy,” she teases, a smirk playing on her lips.
“No problem,” I laugh, feeling embarrassment creep into my cheeks.
“I gotta get out of here,” Marco says. “There are bad drivers out there and old lady jaywalkers that I need to save New York City from.” If I didn’t already want to crawl into a hole and die, you can bet I do the moment he grabs my ass and places a smacking kiss on my lips.
* * *
I was so flabbergasted by the kiss, I didn’t think what might happen if Marco bumped into Ritmo on his way to work. So for the last hour, I’ve been debating on whether I should call him or not—you know, just to be sure some crazy biker didn’t kidnap him or something.
On top of that, I was prolonging the call to my father.
With any luck, Ritmo didn’t kidnap Marco and kill him. Instead, he called my dad and reported that I was safe and sound. I’d still get reamed out when I got back to the compound, but at least the odds of him showing up here with half the club were slim to none.
The sound of Penelope clearing her throat jars my thoughts and I look up at her. In the short time I’ve known her, I don’t think I’ve seen her smile and judging by the scowl on her face, today’s not the day.
“Can I help you with something?” I ask.
“I know what you’re doing,” she hisses.
I look from her to my computer screen.
I’m pretending to respond to a man who wants advice on how to ask his ex-wife if she’ll be his booty call. Unless she has a suggestion, I’m not sure how any of that is her business.
“I see you with that guy every morning and I watch you leave with him every night.”
Huh. So she’s crazy. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t smile.
“The guy with all the tattoos,” she clarifies. “The gangbanger.”
Absorbing her slurs, I try to tame the anger pulsing through me. I may hate what my dad’s club stands for, but at the end of the day, the Corrupt Hellraisers are my family. We don’t always like our family, but we fucking defend them to small minded people like Penelope.
Fixing her with a glare, I push out of my chair and stand. Instinctively she takes a step back.
Smart girl.
“You don’t know shit,” I spat.
“I know Marco is a good guy, and he doesn’t deserve to be played by the likes of you.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m not playing him.”
“Then who is the guy?”
“That’s none of your business,” I grind out, pointing a finger in her face. “I might be the new girl here, but understand this, I don’t take kindly to girls getting in my face. Check yourself before you come at me.”
“Or what?”
“Do it and you’ll find out. Now, if you’re done sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, I have work to do. Maybe you can go answer a phone or something.”
“Oh please, don’t pretend you do anything more than play with Post-its and paperclips. You’ve yet to meet Ida. Once she gets a load of you, you’ll be out the door.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Stay away from Marco.”
“Or what?”
“I’ll tell him about your little friend with the teardrop tattoos under his eye.”
Like hell, she will.
Chapter Sixteen
Antonia
To say my altercation with Penelope left me in a bad mood would be an understatement of epic proportions. It’s obvious the girl is attracted to Marco, but to accuse me of things when she doesn’t know my story—that’s just wrong and the very reason I have little tolerance for women. It’s probably why I don’t have a girl tribe or a squad—whatever the trendy name is these days.
The sound of my cell phone ringing jars my thoughts and I peel my eyes away from the emails I’m pretending to work on. Digging into my bag, I pull out my phone and cringe at the sight of my father’s contact info. I slide my thumb across the screen and accept the call.
“Hello?”
“You’ve got five minutes to get your ass down to the garage or I’m coming into your fancy little office and introducing myself to your colleagues.”
“Why hello, Dad,” I sneer. “Sounds like you’re in a great mood.”
“I mean it, Antonia. Five fucking minutes.”
The line goes dead and I glance at the clock. It’s not too early to take my lunch, so I draft Soraya a quick email since she’s on a conference call with Ida and I clock out. Realizing I’m going to have to pass Penelope on my way out the door, I shove my AirPods in my ears and crank up the volume, that way if the witch tries to provoke me I won’t get locked up on an assault charge.
It works like a charm and I’m in the garage with a minute to spare. Not that it does me any good, it’s sixty more seconds of being scolded on how dangerous things are and how reckless I am…yada yada yada.
I spot my father instantly, and of course, he’s not alone. His vice president, Cash, stands tall at his right, and next to him is Ritmo and Hound. They all look at me with blank expressions, but as I draw near, I can see the disappointment in Cash’s eyes and the disgust in Hound’s. Ritmo I can never read. I suppose that’s because he looks like a sociopath on any given day. My dad, well, that’s another story. He looks like he’s about to commit murder.
Great.
“Brought the reinforcements, huh?” I question as I come to a standstill in front of him. “What did I do this time?”
“Who’s your fucking boyfriend?” Hound sneers.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, right, you’re just fucking him.”
I tear my eyes away from Hound and look to my father, expecting him to put this son of a bitch in his place, but he doesn’t move an inch.
“You didn’t come home,” Cash says. “Didn’t check in either.”
“I was on a date,” I hiss, gritting my teeth. I wave a hand toward my dad. “He knew that.”
“You forgot one detail,” Dad says.
Is he fucking kidding me?
“Didn’t really think you wanted to know I would be spending the night in a guy’s bed, but next time I’ll call you while we’re going at it that way you have peace of mind.”
“There ain’t going to be a fucking next time, Tonia,” Dad hollers.
“Actually, there is, and you don’t have a say in that.”
“He’s a fucking cop!” He shouts so loud it echoes off the walls of the garage. Unfazed by the tone of his voice, I’m taken back by the fact he knows Marco is a cop. I didn’t divulge one detail about Marco to my dad. Not his profession. Not his name. Nothing.
“There isn’t a chance in Hell you’ll be seeing that motherfucker again,” Dad continues, his jaw tightening with every word.
I blink for a second before diverting my eyes back to Hound. There was no way he could’ve known from that night he saw me with Marco that he was a cop.
“How do you know he’s a cop?” I ask, looking back at my father.
“That’s not important,” he seethes, his fists closing and opening as he rolls his neck from side to side. He’s not the only one trying to control their anger. My hands are shaking and it’s taking every ounce of self-control not to lunge at him.
“You had me followed.”
“Of course I had you followed,” he fumes. “You gave me no fucking choice. When I say things aren’t safe, I’m not blowing smoke, Antonia.” He takes a step closer to me. “Ditch the cop or you’re going to force my hand.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means we don’t need no fucking pig sniffing around our shit,” Hound yells.
My gaze slices to him.
“Fuck you,” I sneer.
“He’s using you, Antonia,” Dad growls.
“You’re crazy,” I murmur in disbelief.
“Maybe, so, but I’ve been around the block a time or two. He’s not interested in you.”
That last sentence hits hard.
“Excuse me?” I croak.
“I didn’t raise you to be this ignorant,” he hisses, roughly combing his fingers through his hair. “The cops are working to bring Bendetti down and that guinea bastard is a rat. He’s going to squeal like a pig if he hasn’t already and when he does, my name is the first he’s gonna give up.”
I shake my head. Maybe he’s right, maybe I am fucking ignorant because I’m not connecting the dots here.
“What does any of this have to do with me?” I shout.
“He’s using you to get to me.”
No.
I’m not entertaining this.
No fucking way.
Marco isn’t like the rest of them.
Sure, I’ve had my doubts, but he’s proved me wrong every time. Marco wouldn’t take advantage of me that way, he wouldn’t put on a façade and pretend to be a good guy just to get to my father. A man like that asks questions and forces you to reveal things about yourself. All Marco’s done is try to get to know me. Not Tank DeLuca’s daughter.
I stare at my father. The urge to shake him rolls through me. If only I could make him see the whole world doesn’t revolve around him. That I’m a person too and a man can be genuinely attracted to me without having an ulterior motive. That there are good men out there, men who are nothing like the four standing in front of me reading me the riot act.
“He doesn’t know I’m your daughter! I haven’t said a word about you to him and he hasn’t asked.”
“Yet,” Cash interjects. “It’s only a matter of time.”
I shake my head as memories from last night begin to assault me. For one night I felt normal. For one night I trusted a man with more than just my body. Am I just supposed to throw that away? Forget how he made me feel? And for what…to ease my father’s paranoia? How is that fair?
“End it, Antonia,” Dad orders, pulling me away from my head. I lift my chin and meet his gaze. “Before I take the opportunity away and end it for you.”
Tank DeLuca doesn’t make threats, he only makes promises.
* * *
I thought the first part of the day was a nightmare, but after leaving my father and his goons standing in the garage, I realized my morning was a walk in the park. I couldn’t get my father’s words out of my head and it was affecting my ability to work. Hours later and I still can’t stare at the screen without my mind wandering. Luckily, I only have another fifteen minutes on the clock.
Forcing myself to finish my last task, I scroll the submissions. Out of the hundred and sixty that came in today, I narrowed it down to forty-nine. Just as I’m about to send them through to Soraya an idea crosses my mind.
Cocky Jerk Page 12