Faked: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Vanessa Waltz

  He paused, his breath tickling my neck. “Bringing him here was a big mistake, Li.”

  His painfully light fingers teased me, as though he knew how much I’d suffered, and he intended to make me beg.

  I won’t. “What will you do about it?”

  “I have some ideas.”

  The taunt sent a thrill down my spine.

  Slick flames wrapped my stomach as his hands cascaded down my shoulders, rippling over my curves. He seized my dress and pushed it over my hips, dragging a hiss from my teeth.

  “No underwear,” he purred. “Was this for James, or for me? Did you want to be prepared?”

  “I hate to pop your overinflated head like a bubble, but that has nothing to do with either of you. A thong would show under this dress.”

  “You wanted to look hot for me.”

  My jaw dropped. “You are so delusional.”

  He gathered the flesh under my ass and pinched brutally.

  “Fuck—ow!”

  “Can’t help it,” he murmured, his thumb drifting close to my pussy. “You’re so inviting, with your tight ass shining with my handprint. I never in a million years pictured myself doing this.” He traced the fullest area of my butt, sighing. “Now it’s all I think about.”

  His hand unstuck from my cheek, and my skin prickled in anticipation.

  SMACK!

  Heat bloomed over my skin with the loud crack. Just as before, the shock of it ran through me. An indignant part of me demanded justice. He should pay for the humiliation, but the shame stinging my cheeks was not because Vinn spanked me.

  It was because I liked it.

  I enjoyed the pain, his possession, this demeaning position, even his unhinged violence. He’d transformed from an ice giant to a red-blooded man. His blows radiated inside me as though he claimed my soul, too.

  Warmth shot to my pussy as he cracked his palm on me, his movements less brutal and more playful. He seized handfuls of me, squeezing, swatting. He made delicious groans that dipped in my throat. He stopped, soothing the burn with a caress.

  Vinn’s hips jammed into mine. A growing hardness pushed against my sore ass. My senses short-circuited. I breathed hard as his hands seemed to search for pleasure points—ass, thighs, hips, stomach. He touched me everywhere, stroking a path so sinful I couldn’t breathe.

  I staggered through a fog of ecstasy, palms slipping.

  “I didn’t say you could move.”

  He shoved them where they belonged, and then he eased my bra aside to tease me. The rough pads of his fingertips were surprisingly tender as he followed the swell of my breasts, playing with my swollen nipples. He seared a line down my abdomen and into my thigh.

  Oh my God.

  He groped my hip, reaching into an intimate space. The shock doused me in liquid heat as two fingers traced my clit. They were barely there. He brushed me. Then he danced about in a slow stroke.

  I slacked against the wall, panting.

  He slapped my clit, tearing a groan from me.

  “You knew what you were doing when you wore this fucking thing. You flaunted that asshole in front of me, knowing I’d fly into a rage.” His growl darkened as his hold bit into my hips. “You’ve blown the lid off my self-restraint.”

  His hands were harsh, but they gave me a sense of protection. His raking gaze made me clench everywhere. I struggled to stay calm. My determination collapsed like a crumbling rock inside me.

  I couldn’t take this anymore.

  I lurched toward the door.

  He yanked me back. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  I’d dreamed of being trapped in his arms. It didn’t help that I fit perfectly in the crook of his head and shoulder. A thrill shot into my battered heart as I scrambled for an exit strategy.

  “Vinn, you’re not doing yourself any favors.” I forced my lips into a stiff grin, cobbling together words that’d stop him. “Michael’s outside.”

  “We’ve already talked. He won’t be a problem.”

  “You told him we were together?”

  “I said what I needed to get him out of my way.”

  He turned me around and thrust me against the wall. Vinn’s mouth brushed the pulsing hollow at the base of my throat. It triggered a wild swirl in the pit of my stomach.

  “Vinn, I want you to let me go.” I raised my voice to a shout. “Vinny!”

  “Thought that was the other guy’s name.”

  My whirlwind thoughts couldn’t make sense of anything.

  Oh, yes…I’d taunted him with that, days ago.

  “Wonder where he’s from,” Vinn mused as he leaned in, smiling. “Allston. Hyde Park. Dorchester.”

  The neighborhood he grew up in.

  “He’s not you.”

  He patted my cheek. “Sure he’s not, honey.”

  “I feel nothing for you.”

  “Liar. You went out with that jamook just to piss me off.” He jerked toward the door. “The college boy with a major crush on you.”

  “What right do you have to be jealous?”

  A war of emotions raged within me as he dragged my hair behind an ear.

  “The fact that you want me means I own a piece of you.”

  “Vinn, that’s not true.” The words were weak, even to my ears. “Please leave me alone.”

  “Not a chance in hell.”

  He moved in, angling his head. His full mouth molded to mine. He was like crushed velvet, so soft and sensual that my skin burst into flames. It was tentative, a kiss worthy of a Hallmark romance, and my mind reeled.

  Heat fanned my cheeks. This was like a daydream, so euphoric it couldn’t be real. I swam through a haze of desire and confusion.

  Would I kiss him back?

  I hesitated, my insides tearing apart.

  Then I slid my hands up his chest. I anchored on his shoulders, lifted on my toes, and pressed my lips into his. It was like dipping into a spa after a long, cold night. Sweet and clean, like mint. Hot. Dangerously silken. My nerves buzzed with need. It was so right to be held by him. I wanted to offer him all of me, my neck, my hardening nipples. He indulged, nipping under my jaw before a wet heat soothed the sting.

  The stars had aligned.

  Vinn Costa was kissing me.

  His mouth returned, crushing me with harder strokes. He cupped my face as I released tortured sighs. Perfect. Better than my imagination.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  The teenage-girl crush I’d buried alive clawed to the surface, bursting forth like champagne bubbles. We exchanged slow, drugging kisses, and then Vinn’s forehead rolled over mine. His luminous eyes flicked open. A burn settled into his tan, spreading to his chest.

  I’d seen him make out with countless models, but none of them had seemed to give him pleasure. I thought he was dead inside—the fact he wasn’t sent a shockwave through me.

  We separated as though struck by the same lightning.

  He definitely wasn’t dead. The proof thudded against my hand and slicked my palm where I held his neck. He stared at me with a silent question. He was a man who’d finally noticed me.

  He grasped my chin. Then he fused his lips with mine. He seized my hips, shoving me backward.

  A wall hit my back.

  I gasped at the impact, forgetting the shock as he crushed me over and over. He smothered the sounds I made, even the pathetic, small moans when his tongue dove in. He slipped down my waist and cupped my bare ass. A groan broke from his lips.

  Jesus.

  This wasn’t the tender stroke I’d imagined, complete with a confession that he’d always loved me. Vinn’s feelings were anything but loving. The kiss deepened into something carnal. Biting. He sucked me like I was candy.

  There was no angst.

  No second-guessing.

  I was on fire. My pussy throbbed. I clutched his collar and met him, stroke for stroke, bound to this savage harmony. I kissed every inch of him in case this never happened again. I sucked his bottom lip, and he gripp
ed the backs of my thighs and slid up, cupping my ass. He hoisted me up the wall. He gyrated into me, rolling his very hard cock against me.

  He bit me, soothing the hurt with his tongue.

  I groaned.

  The sound seemed to snap him out of our frenzy. He backed away with a low hiss, looking half-mad with lust. A bright flare sprang into his eyes. He blew a stream of air.

  My heart exploded with need and anguish. I couldn’t disguise my body’s reaction to him, and now he’d have more ammunition against me. I ran toward the door and seized the handle.

  Vinn slammed it shut with his foot. “Where are you going?”

  “Home.”

  “After we mauled each other like that?”

  “I don’t want to see you again.”

  His gravelly laughter made me flush. “You sure as hell pick an odd way of showing it.”

  I had to shove my confused thoughts in order, and I couldn’t do it if he touched me. The stitching of my life had unraveled. It was his fault.

  I needed him to stop touching me.

  I headed out, but he caught my waist. “Vinn, please.”

  His finger curled under my chin, and an electric shock scorched my body. “Come home with me, and you’ll get anything you want.”

  My pulse skittered. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “Why not?” The electricity of his touch became a lightning storm as he traced the fullness of my mouth. “I think we’ll work out our differences better in bed. So you might as well come over.”

  This was too much.

  I wouldn’t say yes, but my heart squeezed at the what-if.

  I’d pictured losing my virginity to Vinn. Even now, I liked imagining him shattering the last of my innocence. It dangled in front of me like a rope. If I dared reach out...

  “I can’t.” I swallowed hard, stepping back. “This is too sudden, and I’m not—I don’t—we’re not a thing.”

  “We are as of now.” Vinn scooped my hand and kissed it, making me feel like a rose blowing apart in the wind. “Fake. Real. It doesn’t matter.”

  It mattered to me.

  My throat tightened. “No.”

  His voice raised sharply. “Why?”

  I slid away from him and strolled to the door, trembling. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

  “What’s the harm in taking it further if I’m already dating you?”

  “We’re not dating,” I seethed. “Fake or otherwise.”

  “Yes, we are,” he snapped, blocking my way out. “It’s not up for negotiation. This isn’t about me.”

  I gave his boner a pointed look. “Really?”

  “Liana, you’d hate being with a biker. You think I’m harsh? Just wait until you’re a sweetbutt.”

  “Come again?”

  Vinn hesitated before answering. “A girl that’s passed around by club members. Yeah. They have a name for their whores.”

  “And you don’t with your comares?”

  “That’s not the same. I don’t like my women fucking other men. I tolerate it, but I don’t invite guys to touch what’s mine.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m not marrying him.”

  “He’ll take the decision from you. You don’t understand what they’re like.”

  “You hate them. They hate you. Werewolves hate vampires and vice versa. I get it.” I sighed, bored with the conversation. “I read Twilight.”

  “I don’t know what the fuck that is.”

  “It’s a joke. I’ve listened to Daniel and Michael complain about bikers my whole life. I’m sure they do the same with us.”

  “Their culture is sick. We cross the line here and there, but we don’t traffic women and kids. We’re not involved in anything so fucked up.”

  “Yeah, you’re an angel. Right up there with Mother Teresa, canonized for your huge cock. Saint Dick.”

  He stood over me, hands on his hips. “Liana, don’t start with the smart mouth.”

  “You won’t scare me into a relationship with you, fake or otherwise.” I crossed my arms, the warmth from his kiss gone. “I’ll take my chances with the biker.”

  Vinn could barely contain his rage. He jerked his shoulder in an irritated shrug. “You’re just trying to piss me off.”

  “No, I’m not,” I snapped. “If I have to marry someone, why not him?”

  “Are you crazy?” The force of his yell blasted my ears as he rounded on me, snarling. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

  I flinched from every syllable. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

  “I’ll do whatever I damn well pleased, you annoying brat. Is there one thing you can do without aggravating me? What is wrong with you?”

  I lunged for the door, and he kept tossing me back like a rag doll. “Get out of my way!”

  “Not until you start making sense.”

  “I see no difference between my choices. He’s a gangster. You’re a gangster. And also—I don’t want your help!” I screamed brokenly. “I’m sick of you. I’d rather marry him than pretend to be with you.”

  Vinn’s eyes flashed and dulled over. He seemed to stare through me, but I knew I’d hurt him.

  He’d hurt me, too.

  I’d spent every waking moment trying to heal from what he’d done.

  “Li, I will only say this once.” His graveyard voice spread ice through my stomach, his dark face set in a vicious expression. “You are mine.”

  Nine

  Vinn

  Michael would kill me.

  He’d eviscerate me for locking her in a room. Then he’d boil my balls in motor oil for making out with his sister because I’d done it under his nose. Fondling her pussy at the charity gala wasn’t part of the plan, but how could I resist?

  She’d given me the perfect opportunity. She had a sentimental side that I’d picked up on after visiting her apartment. Stepping in that bedroom was like looking into a time capsule of my youth. I’d been surrounded by photos of us, warm memories, things I’d forgotten. Luring her away from Michael had been easy.

  I traced my lips, replaying how she’d kissed me so eagerly. If only I’d dragged that gorgeous fuck doll to her knees, I could’ve fed her my cock. As amazing as that would’ve felt, it was good that she rejected me. Hooking up with Michael’s sister would’ve been the scandal of the century.

  That didn’t stop me from imagining. For days, I marveled at her reaction. I’d barely touched her, and she’d thrown herself at me. Liana was hot for me, and clearly in deep denial.

  I’d rather marry him than pretend to be with you.

  A feeble lie. Her tongue had been in my mouth only minutes before. She knew she wouldn’t last a second as Killian’s wife. The hell was wrong with her?

  I kept tabs on her with the bodyguards I’d hired to replace Michael’s. It took everything not to drop in her neighborhood. I had to figure out what I’d do with Little Liana.

  I couldn’t just fuck her.

  Michael would murder me. He’d have to ask permission, but Nico would give him the go-ahead. Knowing Michael, he wouldn’t bother dealing with our boss. He was never the rational type. He’d just shoot me—and I’d deserve it.

  I owed him the truth.

  Confessing my sins wasn’t an option. I needed a well-crafted story that’d satisfy Michael and my aunt, the only people in my life who mattered. Lying would be easy enough. Getting her to agree would be difficult.

  I thought about her way too much. Obsessing. Stalking. Poring over photos. I’d made a social media profile just to follow hers. Then I combed her online presence for information to answer a burning question.

  How could I make her want to be with me?

  “Hey. Are you listening?”

  A baritone cleaved through my half-baked idea.

  I dragged my gaze from the floor to Sergeant O’Flaherty, a police officer in his fifties with bags under his eyes, who was having another meltdown. His use as an insight into the Organized Crime Task Force hadn’t dr
ied up, but I hated the coward.

  We stood at the construction site of Nico’s next condominium development.

  “I wasn’t. Go again.”

  “Rage Machine told me they’d break into my house, tie me up, and make me watch as they rape my wife if I didn’t release their member,” he babbled. “I’m not the only one, Mr. Costa. Anyone who doesn’t take bribes gets a death threat or their car torched!”

  “Then accept a fucking bribe. What do you expect me to do? They’re animals.” I shrugged, watching a forklift shower dirt onto a pile. “I’m staying out of their war.”

  “Help Legion crush Rage Machine.”

  Fuck you, pay me. “I’m not sure that’s worth my time.”

  “Well, you have to do something.”

  Or what?

  I wasn’t in the habit of throwing my soldiers into unnecessary conflicts. I had enough of that shit with other men in charge. “Aren’t you a cop? Arrest someone.”

  “No judge is willing to sentence a one-percenter. Nobody is standing up to the MCs. People are dying.” Pete wiped his brow, leaning against his beat-up Chevrolet.

  “How sad.”

  He stilled. Loathing marked his face. “You’re a callous prick.”

  “Might surprise you, but I dislike not being able to walk around my city without a bomb going off. However, I won’t get involved until it makes sense for the Family.”

  “You don’t care about anyone.”

  Correct.

  “Look, you want to stop Rage Machine? Follow their money. Find it. Choke it. Cut it off. Do whatever it takes to kill their finances. Everything will calm down when they can’t finance their fucking war.”

  What could I do?

  I wasn’t a detective. I had no clue how a brand new MC group had the means to out-finance the much larger Legion with chapters in several states. I didn’t feel like solving the mystery. It didn’t concern me.

  “Tell them to stop threatening us!”

  Unbelievable. Tell them—like I could pick up the phone and boss a guy I’d never met.

  “Okay. I’ll ask if I can fuck their wives, too.”

  “This is serious!” He banged my car hood, and I shot him a glare. “The local economy is dead in the water. If you don’t give a shit about citizens, maybe you care about your business drying up when everybody leaves Boston.”