“Try this one,” the woman who worked there said, heading their way with samples of lube.
Steele and Emma dipped their finger in and tasted it.
“I like it,” she said. “Greyson likes cinnamon. I want that one.”
Chris closed his eyes. “This is my worst freaking nightmare. The only way it gets worse is if my girlfriend walks in and starts tasting lube with you.”
“I can call her…”
Chris pointed at her. “I’ll kill you myself. Don’t pervert my girl. I like her as she is!”
She snorted. “Try this one,” she said, sticking her finger in the lube and holding it out.
“I am not licking lube off your finger, Em. I’m not doing it no matter what you do.”
She snorted. “Bock, bock, bock.”
She dipped her finger in two different ones. “Come on, Chris. Lighten up. Everyone left. No one likes to be around the mob boss’s wife. It’s just us.”
He rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue. “I’m ready,” he said, with his tongue sticking out.
Emma let him taste it.
“Nope. That’s nasty. I wouldn’t lick that off anything—even you.”
Steele laughed.
Emma appreciated Chris taking one for the team to amuse Steele. She really did owe him one.
Emma held out her finger and he tried the second one.
“Fruity, like you two. Go with that one. Nothing says I’m gay like fruit flavored lube for the wedding night.”
Steele laughed.
He genuinely liked Chris. He was a good person beneath the tough exterior.
“So, banana it is.”
“This is all kinds of wrong,” Chris said, rolling his eyes.
“We’ll take three.”
Chris stared at Emma. “What the hell do you need three of them for? A drop will do you, Emma. Are you stocking up for the next century?”
Oh, she knew why.
“One for me, one for Steele, and one for you and Natasha.”
He turned red.
Then more red.
Finally, she thought he was going to blow, and not in the good way.
“Your husband needs to lock you away. You’re out of control.”
“Again, you saw me naked, and by the way, girls talk about sex with each other. Way to go, Mr. Stud. I know all about the heat you’re packing, Mr. Ex-Cop.”
He went white.
“What?”
She grinned and winked at him.
Chris still didn’t know if she was serious or kidding. With her, you couldn’t tell.
Now he had to ask his girlfriend not to tell Emma about their sex life.
It was…awkward.
Steele handed her a vibrator for the collection of things she was buying. “Natasha would like this.”
Chris closed his eyes and began praying.
Or counting.
They couldn’t tell if he was asking for divine intervention or patience.
While he tried to keep calm, they headed toward the sexy lingerie.
“Oh, you need this,” Emma said, grabbing the silk lounge pants. “Feel those,” she said, rubbing them against Steele’s arm. “They feel like Heaven. Picture them rubbing against bare, sexy skin.”
“They’d be perfect,” Steele admitted. Plus, they’d cover him up. That was his big fear. From where he stood, he looked almost normal. But he needed a second opinion.
But who?
That was his issue.
Chris was behind her. “I actually like those. This place may not be a total loss.”
She knew he was a good sport. “Picture yourself lying in bed, Nat with you, and you wearing these.”
She rubbed them on his arm next and it actually gave him goosebumps.
He grinned. “Sold.”
“Then again, commando would be best, Mr. Big.”
He yanked on her hair. “Brat.”
Steele grabbed a pair in sexy red. “It’s Dante’s favorite color.”
“I am learning way too much about all the people fornicating at Terrace Glen.”
Steele got quiet.
“What?” Chris asked.
Emma had tears in her eyes.
“What she’s not telling you is I’ve been too afraid to have sex after the abduction.”
“Oh,” he said. “I’m sorry, Steele. What can I do to help?” he asked.
Steele shrugged. “It’s all in my head, I guess. There’s nothing anyone can do.”
Chris touched his arm. When Steele turned around, he hugged the man. Chris knew sometimes you needed to feel safe—especially Steele.
He’d been a cop, and he knew what survivors of rape went through. Chris watched him hide behind Dante, or if he wasn’t around, Greyson or himself. The man simply wanted to feel protected, and technically, that was his job.
So, for him, and Emma, he’d hug a gay man in a sex shop.
It was the least he could do.
“You’ll be okay,” Chris said, rubbing his hand up and down Steele’s back. “It’s only sex. Just try not to stress it. I bet Dante is just as worried as you are.”
“He is,” said Emma. “He’s nervous too.”
That helped.
“It’s only sex, right?”
Chris grinned. “In those pants with that lube…you just need to lay back and let it all happen.”
Steele laughed. “You may be right.”
He headed across the store to find something else. As soon as he was gone, Emma went up on her toes and gave him a kiss on the lips.
“You’re a good man, Christopher. Natasha is a lucky lady. If I wasn’t married, I’d be chasing you down.”
He dropped his arm over her shoulder. “If you weren’t married, I would have stolen you away two years ago,” he teased.
She felt safe, too, and that mattered.
As Steele rushed back at them, he had something in his hand. “You have to taste this!”
“What is it?” Chris asked.
“Edible underwear.”
Chris shook his head. “And here is where I draw the line. I will suck lube off Emma’s fingers, I will shop for britches with a gay man, but I am not eating someone’s edible underwear, and you can’t make me.”
Emma knew Steele was still nervous. “I’m in,” she said, taking a bite. “Oh look! A candy G-string.”
She held it out to Chris.
He glared at her.
Then he opened his mouth, took a bite, and chewed. “Watermelon.”
She snorted.
“Okay, it’s not as bad as I thought. I would eat those off Natasha. There. I said it. I’m a panty eating perv.”
A woman stared.
“EMMA! You said we were alone,” he hissed.
“She’s short. I didn’t see her behind the chaps. Hey, do you need a pair of those?”
He pointed at her.
She got it. His ears were red, and he was one pair of edible panties away from having a stroke.
God!
She loved this town.
“I think you’ve had your fun,” he said to her.
And she had.
“I love you both,” Emma said, linking her arm through each of theirs to stay connected. “Let’s go check out. I think we’ve created enough of a spectacle.”
Chris agreed, but on his way past the display, he tossed a pair into Emma’s basket when she wasn’t looking.
He always did like watermelon.
Sue him.
He was a sucker for his family.
* * * G r e y s o n C r o f t * * *
Terrace Glen
When they got back, all three of them were laughing. Emma was between the two men, and they were all holding hands. Even Chris was amused.
Greyson met them in the foyer with Dimitri at his side. It appeared that everything had gone well.
“Well, someone had fun,” he said.
“Yeah, we shopped,” Emma stated. “At the ‘Smut Hut’,” she offered, wigglin
g her eyebrows.
He loved that store.
“What did you buy?” he asked, rubbing his hands together, lecherously.
Emma handed him the bag, and he peeked inside. “I love my wife.”
Dimitri tried to look over his shoulder. “Come on! Share with a single guy.”
Greyson closed the bag. “Nope.”
“You’re mean.”
Chris pulled off his Kevlar and dropped it onto the foyer table. He was glad to get out of it.
“You didn’t miss much. Emma made me lick lube off her.”
Greyson stared at his wife. “I’m sorry, what did my wife have you do? I know I had to hear that wrong. It sounded like he said…”
She snorted, grabbed her bag, and pulled the edible underwear out.
It was time to even the score. No one riled up her cave-Croft.
NO ONE.
“Chris, these are yours. I think you got them for Natasha for later.”
He went red.
So did Dimitri.
“I’m not going there,” the Russian said, glaring at the man. “Put them away!”
“What? Sometimes, I need a snack.”
Steele began laughing.
As did Emma and Greyson.
Dimitri…
Yeah, no.
“Thank you all for this. I was nervous, but now I’m good. Where’s Dante?” he asked Greyson.
“Oh, about halfway through a bottle of Jack with my father. Reggie has struck again.”
“I’ll go save him,” he offered, giving Emma a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for today. You made it easier. I’m ready for tomorrow night.”
He headed off.
“Again, why were you licking lube off my wife?” Greyson asked.
Chris shrugged. “Steele needed comedic relief. Emma and I tend to be that when we’re together,” he admitted. “She’s bad when we’re out.”
Emma winked at him.
“It made his day easier. We all have days where we need a friend.”
Yeah, they all knew that.
In that case, Greyson was willing to take one for the team too.
“I’m going to go get ready for tonight,” Emma said. “Dinner is at seven, so everyone be ready for it,” she said, heading up the stairs.
Greyson was a smart man.
He followed.
Dimitri held out his hand.
Chris handed him the edible underwear.
“I meant the keys. I have to run into the city,” he said, shaking his head.
“Do you want company?”
He shook his head.
“No, I’m fine.”
“Dimitri,” he said, getting his attention. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. “If you want to talk, I’m here. What I said about Steele also meant you. If you need a friend…”
He didn’t want to talk.
He didn’t want a friend.
Dimitri wanted to be left alone.
He was miserable. When Marissa basically told him to fuck off, he’d had to give up on the hopes and dreams that he’d one day have what everyone else had.
He was on his own.
And it sucked.
“I need to do this alone.”
“Hooker?” Chris asked.
Dimitri stared at him. “And if I am?” he asked, waiting for the lecture to start.
It never came.
Chris patted him on the back. After nearly being killed by Marissa, he knew the man should be more careful, but that wasn’t his business.
“Just be careful. Your brother is gunning for you and us. I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
He was surprised that was his comment.
Chris had come a long way. He’d given up the past, knowing that he was no longer a cop.
“I’ll be okay. I’m heading to the hotel, and then ‘Aquarius’. I’ll be back by dinner.”
Chris watched him leave.
“Where’s my brother going?” Natasha asked, stepping around the corner.
“He needs to be alone.”
He covered for him. It was part of their bro code. The men in that family had each other’s backs, and it mattered.
“Oh, I see.”
He knew Natasha was well aware what he was going off to do, but still, the man deserved some privacy and not having people watching him with suspicion.
It was time to distract.
“These are for you,” Chris said, handing her the edible underwear.
She blushed.
“Are these for sex?” Natasha asked.
There were days where he loved that he was the only man she’d ever been with. It made it one hell of an adventure.
“Yes, you can eat them, which is what I plan on doing, right before I dine on my favorite thing. You.”
She flushed.
“If you’re free, I am,” she said, going up on her toes to give him a kiss.
Was he free?
Hell yeah!
He definitely was available and horny.
Having a girlfriend was a pretty sweet deal, and Chris was going to make it count.
“Yeah, let’s go give them a try.”
Natasha took his hand, and they headed out to the pool house to be alone.
While they had a chance.
Chapter Three
Hotel
Saturday
Four P.M
H onestly, he didn’t give a shit what her name was, or what her story happened to be. Before, he would have cared, and he would have tried to save her. Well, that was the old him. As of late, Dimitri was just angry, bitter, and empty.
Screw the world.
That was his new motto.
The more he thought about Marissa Pierce, the more he wanted to hurt someone.
Himself.
Her.
Anyone who crossed his path.
She’d cozied up to him, used his body to get off, and then she’d walked away.
It had been brutal.
On top of that, she’d stabbed him in the fucking arm. Still, he’d given her a shot.
Why?
After watching everyone pair up and find happiness, he was the odd man out.
It sucked.
Yes, he had sworn he wouldn’t take the hooker route anymore, but he was so damn lonely.
His heart hurt, and he wanted to feel.
At this point, he’d do anything.
So, he was back to hookers and call girls.
After making the call, he got his customary room at the hotel. He made sure he had condoms, and time.
That was all he needed.
When she arrived, he’d have someone to take his mind off of everything.
That was what he wanted.
Dimitri needed to forget.
As he sat on the side of the bed, he stared at his phone. A part of him wanted him to reach out to her, and a part of him wanted to tell her off. He knew how to contact her, but he had to let it go. Finding her contact number, he stared down at it.
She was free.
She was burying her sister, and starting her life over. Now that Marissa’s mission was over, he had to let her go.
Dimitri hit the delete button.
Now he was starting over too.
Alone.
He couldn’t forgive her for leaving.
She came back, stabbed him, slept with him, and then left. It didn’t even bother her that he had feelings. He felt so used.
Granted, it was all understandable. His brother had killed her sister. He’d tortured and destroyed her.
What had he expected?
A happily ever after?
Really?
Had the Crofts brainwashed him that much?
At the knock on the door, he knew it was time.
Going over, he pulled the door open, and he saw who Stephanie had sent him.
Honestly, she wasn’t his type.
She looked too young.
Well, he was feeling that bad about himself that sh
e’d do. Why not sink all the way to the bottom of the barrel?
“You called for me?” she asked, staring up at him.
“Yes, I did. Get naked. Let’s get this over with.”
Dimitri walked away and began stripping as he went. He threw the money down on the bed stand and dropped his pants.
“I like men who move fast.”
“I like women who don’t talk. Shut up, blow me, we’ll fuck, and then get out.”
She stared at him.
“Um, okay.”
Dimitri sat on the bed and she dropped to her knees. When she stroked him, he laid back and stared at the ceiling. As the escort blew him, he felt…empty.
It wasn’t working.
The harder she tried, the more she failed.
He couldn’t get off.
It wasn’t the same.
“You’re tense,” she said.
Yeah, he was a lot of different things, and now he was going to be a bastard.
“This isn’t working.”
“What’s wrong? Don’t you find me sexy?” she asked, climbing up his body to straddle his hips.
He found nothing sexy anymore.
He was officially broken.
“Fuck me. You’ll feel better,” she said, pulling off her tight shirt to reveal her breasts.
Dimitri stared at them.
Finally, he gave up and touched them. She felt fake, just like the interlude.
Rolling fast, he pinned her beneath him.
“That’s right, baby. Fuck me.”
That was about what she was going to get, and Dimitri knew he wasn’t going to be gentle.
He couldn’t be. That part of his compassion was empty. He had no love for anything anymore.
So, as the girl who could barely be eighteen was pinned beneath him, he broke his own cardinal rule.
He took her.
As he was above her, pounding himself into her body, a million things went through his mind.
Hate.
Rage.
It was all there.
He was rough.
He was brutal.
He had no mercy.
When she whimpered in pain, and she actually begged him to stop battering, he did.
To flip her over and take her ass.
He drove himself into her, glad he couldn’t see her face. He didn’t want to think about who he was fucking.
Raping.
He just needed to go deeper into the loathing.
She struggled against him, and he finally got to the edge. As she begged, he didn’t care that she wasn’t enjoying it. She was nothing more than another whore from the streets of Vegas.
Wedding of Our Dreams: Dante & Steele (Croft Family Mob Series Book 0) Page 6