Risking Romero (The Adamos Book 9)

by Mia Madison

  “I’ve been known to fart and belch at the same time.”

  She covers her hand with her mouth to stifle her laughter. “Try again.”

  “I’m in love with you.”

  Holy fuck. I cannot believe I just blurted that out. I’m supposed to be the organized twin. You tell a woman that over a nice dinner, with flowers and maybe jewelry.

  And I didn’t even know it until I said it.

  Her face has gone soft with wonder. Not a complete misstep, then. Time to rescue the moment. “You don’t have to say anything,” I tell her quietly. “I just … thought you should know.”

  “I fell in love with you this morning.”

  I get that funny pain in my chest again. “Did you?”

  “And I adore your family, but I would like them all to go very far away right now.”

  I look up. Tonio’s on the other side of the kitchen with Cait, wistfully surveying the crumbs that are all that’s left of the desserts. I catch his eye and circle my finger in the air — let’s wrap it up — and he nods and heads out to get the exodus going.

  “They’ll be gone soon,” I tell her, and Jade gives me a smile that makes me feel like I just single-handedly cured cancer.

  11

  All The Excitement

  When all the guests have gone, and it’s back to just the five of us, the quiet and emptiness feel strange at first. Lando and the twins settle in for a final movie; Romero and I don’t even pretend to be interested.

  My heart pounds as he follows me up the stairs. I can still feel what we did this afternoon in the lingering sensitivity of my ass and my clit. I’m eager for more, even as part of me wonders if I can handle it.

  His bags are in my room, and he goes through them quickly. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “All Lando brought was my clothes and toiletries.”

  I frown. “What else should he have packed for you?”

  “Condoms.”

  “Oh. Right. Well, I am on the pill. Dad was a big believer in being prepared.”

  Romero crosses to me and feathers his fingers over my cheekbone. “I’ve been tested, and I’m clear.”

  “Okay, then.”

  He smiles. “Okay,” he whispers, and kisses me.

  This one feels different from all the others. Like it has more … layers. It goes on a long time, and when we finally break off I am literally weak in the knees.

  When I sag against him, he scoops me up and lays me on the bed, then lies down beside me and starts to kiss every inch of my body, delicate touches of his mouth that somehow drive me even wilder than our frantic embraces.

  I writhe on the bed as he undresses me, slowly, one piece of clothing at a time, covering every newly exposed inch of flesh with more of those whisper-soft kisses. “Romero,” I groan, grabbing a handful of his hair, trying by instinct to make him be rougher.

  “Naughty,” he says in my ear, and then I feel fabric against my wrists. Before I know what he’s up to, he’s used my blouse to tie my wrists above my head.

  “Romero!”

  “No rushing.”

  When I start kicking my legs, not to hurt him but to lever myself away from him, he says, “I’d threaten to spank you but I don’t think that would be much of a punishment. How about this.” He leans over me, his mouth almost touching mine. “If you’re good, I promise to spank you later.”

  I’m embarrassed by how much I want him to. “That’s …”

  “A tempting offer?”

  “All right, yes.”

  He smiles his gorgeous smile in the dim light cast by my bedside lamp. “Be good.”

  “You’re driving me crazy,” I protest when he starts dropping kisses on me again.

  “It’s my job to drive you crazy, and it’s your job to take it.”

  “I would like to change our jobs, please.”

  Romero blows softly against my nipples, and they harden to stiff peaks. “We can change them another time. Not tonight.”

  “I want you inside me.”

  He pauses for just an instant before he starts teasing the undersides of my breasts. “Go back to moaning my name,” he suggests between kisses.

  Sensing weakness, I repeat, “Inside me.”

  “I’m going to be inside you. I promise.”

  “I want you now, not ten years from now.”

  “Naughty girls don’t get their spankings.”

  “Romie, please.”

  A moment later his face is over mine. “Did you just call me Romie?”

  I bite my lip. “It’s a term of endearment.”

  “Romie?” he repeats.

  “There has to be something I can call you.”

  “Rome. You can call me Rome.”

  “Okay. Rome … ie.” He gives me a mock glare. “I can’t help it! It just slips out.”

  “I”m trying to worship her body and she’s calling me Romie,” he mutters.

  “I don’t need you to worship my body; I need you to fuck it.”

  His expression turns serious, but tender. “My girl likes it rough?”

  Do I? If what we did this afternoon counts as rough — and I think it must — then I most certainly do. “Yes.”

  “All right … Jadie.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Okay. I promise to call you Rome. Or Romero.”

  “Good girl,” he says, and changes his kisses to nips. Little flashes of fire, tiny jolts of pain that he soothes with his tongue, and soon I’m panting and gasping and moaning. “Oh yeah. She likes it.”

  I want to beg him to fuck me again, but I hold the words back because this kind of sensual torment I can endure. And I want to be good for him. I want my reward.

  When he tugs at my nipples with his teeth, I arch off the bed with a wordless cry. He does it again, and again. “You’re going to be so wet for me.”

  “I already am.”

  “Even wetter. You’re going to be so tight around my cock.” I squirm in wordless entreaty. “Do you want me to fuck you hard, sweet Jade?”

  “Yes, Rome.” That ache in my core is back. I need him inside me so badly.

  He makes his way down my body until he reaches my slacks. “I love your ass in these pants. I love it out of them, too, but just saying, you can’t go wrong with these.”

  I vow to make a note of the brand and buy more. Seconds later, I’m completely naked and Romero is pushing my legs apart. He rubs his stubble against the sensitive skin on my inner thighs, then sucks the tiny hurts into his mouth.

  “Rome,” I moan. He adds little nips. “Baby, please.”

  Finally, he makes his way up to my pussy, tracing a fingertip along the seam of my folds. “So wet,” he says when he spreads me open. “You’re soaking.”

  One finger presses inside me. There’s a quick twinge of pain, and then he’s sliding against my inner walls. He works another finger in, stretching me, and my head tosses on the pillow. “So tight,” he murmurs. “Jade?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re not a virgin, are you?”

  Damn. My eyes fly open, but I can’t think of any clever way to word things. My silence is answer enough.

  Romero shifts back up my body until he’s looking me in the eyes. “You weren’t going to tell me.”

  “I didn’t want you to stop. Please don’t stop, Rome.”

  “I won’t. But, Jade, we need to talk about stuff, especially when it’s important. We can’t hide things from each other.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I may have to spank you for real later,” he says in my ear, “but then I’ll make it all better.”

  “You can do anything you want to me, so long as you don’t stop.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “Anything?”

  “Anything.”

  “I do believe you mean that,” he says musingly.

  “I trust you. And I like what you do to me.”

  Romero gives me a quick, hard kiss. “Thank you. But, b
abe, listen. If anything — ever — gets to be too much, and you need me to stop, I want you to tell me. All right?” I nod, and he kisses me again. “Good girl.”

  “Do I get my reward now?” I ask as he works his way down my body again.

  “Hmm. I guess you’ve been pretty good.” Quick as a flash, he hauls me up and over his lap. I love how strong he is.

  He warms me up with some light, almost gentle spanks, then increases their intensity until my legs are kicking. Every flash of pain sears a path from my ass to my clit, and he builds the sensations until my body convulses, shuddering through a powerful orgasm.

  “Beautiful.” His hand smooths over my chastened flesh, easing me down again before he pulls me up to straddle him. “Now, you have a choice. You can be on top, like this; or you can be on your back; or I can be behind you. The first one is going to take most of the pressure off your gorgeous ass. On your back will put the most pressure on it, and if I take you from behind, that’ll be in between.”

  My ass is throbbing. Do I want that pain mixed with his cock inside me? I go with my gut. “I want you on top of me.”

  His eyes flare amber. “My beautiful, kinky girl. If you change your mind and want to switch positions, just tell me.”

  Romero lays me down, and I wince as my ass hits the mattress. “Okay?” he asks, and I nod. “You promise you’ll tell me if it’s too much.”

  “I promise.”

  He gives me a quick kiss, then rolls off the bed and strips. I feast my eyes on him as his body is revealed: his powerful chest and biceps, tight abs, a happy trail leading into his boxer briefs, muscular thighs. Then the boxer briefs come off, and my eyes go wide.

  “That’ll never fit.” Good thing I don’t have to pretend to be experienced anymore.

  Romero grins as he joins me on the bed. “It’ll be tight,” he agrees. “Might hurt a little, especially at first. But if it’s too much you’ll tell me, right?” I don’t answer. “Jade.”

  “Yes, all right.” He would have to be killing me for it to be too much.

  He kneels between my thighs, takes himself in hand, and starts rubbing the head of his cock over my slippery folds. I groan and arch toward him, and remember my wrists are still bound. “Are you going to untie me?”

  “No.”

  “Meanie.”

  “We’ll have plenty of time for mutual exploration.” He positions himself over me, his weight on one forearm. “But my girl likes it kinky, so I’m going to fuck her when she can’t touch me.”

  When he starts to press inside me, I suck in a quick breath. He’s so big. He draws back and presses in again, and a tiny whimper escapes me.

  “All right?” he says.

  “Don’t stop.”

  Slowly, Romero works his way inside me, and though there’s discomfort, he feels so amazing that I don’t ever want it to end. Finally, he’s buried inside me and gives me a long, wet kiss, our tongues dancing while I adjust.

  When he pulls back and presses in again, I let out a long, low moan. “That’s my girl.” He strokes in and out of me, slow and steady, his hips pressing mine into the mattress. With every extra flash of pain from my ass, I get wetter.

  He tangles one hand in my hair and tugs, adding another layer of sensation to all the feelings bombarding my body, and I arch against him. “Fuck yeah,” he says, deepening his thrusts. “Gonna fuck your tight little pussy until you scream.”

  “Harder,” I tell him, and his eyes glow. He gives me what I want, and the heat and the friction, the pleasure and the pain, all wrap around each other and build, spiraling out from my pussy and back again, taking me to the precipice.

  Romero takes my hands and wraps them around the headboard. “Hold on,” he tells me, and I brace myself as he starts fucking me really hard. The bed is banging against the wall and I’m sure the whole house can hear us, but I don’t care.

  Sensation swells and washes over me. “I’m going to come,” I gasp, and then I do, a huge, hard climax that wracks my body, making me clamp down even tighter than I already am.

  Romero doesn’t stop, and it triggers another orgasm, and another, each one bigger than the last. I’m bucking beneath him, my body completely out of my control, spasming around his cock over and over.

  When he stops moving, my body is drenched in sweat. He’s still hard inside me. “What’s wrong?” I say, my voice hoarse.

  “Nothing. Just changing positions.” He pulls out and flips me over, tugging my hips up so my ass is in the air. Filling me again, he quickly builds up speed until he’s pounding into me, yanking me back against him with every thrust.

  At this angle he’s hitting some extra-sensitive spot inside me, and the climax builds so fast it hits me like a freight train. I shove my face into the pillow and scream while Romero fucks me like a jackhammer, and I’m coming so hard I can’t stop, and I don’t until he finally slams home inside me a final time and empties himself out, my pussy milking his cock for every last drop.

  When he’s drained, he rolls us onto our sides so we’re spooning, him still inside me. We lie there a long time, cuddled together, and I’ve never been happier in my life.

  Finally, he comes up on one elbow to nuzzle my ear. “How’s my girl?”

  “Your girl is excellent.”

  He gives me a quick kiss. “Yes, she is. You hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “Me too. I’ll go get us some food and water.” He kisses me again and pulls out, and I feel empty.

  Romero pulls on his jeans and goes out. Maybe I should go with him. I’m so relaxed, though, that moving seems like too much effort.

  I’m sure I’ll be wide awake when he gets back, but I can’t keep my eyes open.

  That’s why I miss all the excitement.

  12

  Four Hours Until Sunrise

  The house is dark and quiet when I head downstairs. Just as well no one can see the grin on my face. Jade is smart, hardworking, sweet but strong. She loves me, she loves my family, and she’s an absolute freak in bed.

  She’s perfect for me.

  I’m staring into the refrigerator when the hair stands up on the back of my neck. Whirling, I see the silhouette of a man standing in the shadows. I’m unarmed, and he’s got the drop on me anyway. I brace, not sure if the next thing I feel will be bullets striking my flesh.

  Then he moves forward into a shaft of moonlight, and the breath whooshes out of me. “Holy fuck, Matteo. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  Growing up, the four of us — Lando and I, Matteo and his brother Brando — were thick as thieves. Two sets of twins, four little hellions. I’m sure we gave our mothers more than their share of gray hair.

  Now, I scarcely recognize the man standing a few feet away. He dropped out of sight two years ago and nobody in the family has seen him since. If anybody knows what he’s up to, it’s Brando, but Matteo’s twin hasn’t said a word to anybody.

  “What are you doing here?” I say when he doesn’t speak.

  “Wake up your brother.”

  I get a chill down my spine. He doesn’t sound like Matteo anymore. His voice is a low rasp, the command as brusque as if we were strangers.

  Maybe we are.

  I’m almost reluctant to turn my back on him and go down the hall to where Lando is crashed out on a sofa. A moment later I hear a soft tread behind me, and hope to hell that my brother has done me the courtesy of waking up on his own, and it’s not a friend that my cousin’s brought with him.

  “Matteo,” Lando says, and I relax a little. “What are you doing here?” He doesn’t sound altogether friendly, and I wonder if there’s bad blood between them that I don’t know about.

  “Ralph Turnbull has one client.”

  I freeze. Behind me, I can sense Lando focused like a laser. “Who?” I say.

  “A man called Bruno Santiago.”

  “I’ve heard that name,” Lando says slowly.

  “He’s a respectable import/export businessman.”
>
  “And what is he really,” I say, “that you’re here in the middle of the night talking to us?”

  “A vicious and ruthless dealer in drugs, guns, and women.”

  Fuck. “And he wants this farm,” I say softly.

  “Yes.”

  “To expand his base of operations,” Lando guesses. “It’s on the state highway, but set back from the road, and wouldn’t attract casual attention.”

  “Correct.”

  Fucking hell. “Is he a man who listens to reason?” I ask.

  “Only when it suits him.”

  “So if someone who had his ear were to try to impress on him that this farm, and these girls, are under the protection of the entire Adamo clan, and he’d be better off turning his attentions elsewhere …”

  “He would not be receptive to that message.”

  I really, really don’t want to ask how Matteo knows this. None of the possible answers are good. Neither is his assessment of Santiago’s state of mind.

  As an officer of the court, the words I say next are an abomination. As the lover and protector of the woman I’ve just left upstairs, they’re a necessity. “Is he vulnerable to extrajudicial solutions?”

  “Unlikely. His security is all but impenetrable. He’s vengeful when thwarted, even in small things. If he learned the identity of an attacker, his response would make vendetta look like child’s play.”

  Lando says, “So he can’t be taken out and he can’t be turned aside.”

  “Not without extremely high levels of potentially lethal risk.”

  Turnbull’s message comes back to me. “The lawyer’s making threatening noises about the animals here.”

  “He’ll strike where the girls are most vulnerable. Terrorize them.”

  In the silence that follows this statement, we hear the soft pad of footsteps on the stairs. Matteo pulls back into the shadows until he disappears. Even though I know he’s there, I can’t see him.

  A moment later, Quinn comes into the kitchen, her path taking her right past the spot where Matteo’s standing. As she passes the wall switch she flicks it on, flooding the kitchen with light.