by Sarah Curtis
He pulled out his phone and texted her.
Meet me out by the pool.
He made a pit stop in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of Gabriella’s favorite wine and two glasses also stopping to flick off the lights for the patio and the pool, on his way out back. He sat on its edge, sticking his feet in the water, poured out two glasses, and waited. It didn’t take long for him to hear the sliding door open behind him and Gabriella to sit down beside him.
He handed her a glass.
“What’s the special occasion?” she asked before taking a sip.
“Does there need to be one?”
“Nope.”
“Good.” He set his glass down and slid into the waist-high water. Grabbing Gabriella around the waist, he pulled her in to join him.
“What are you doing?” She laughed, holding her glass of wine aloft.
He took it from her hand, set it on the concrete, then pushed with his legs against the side of the pool, propelling them to the center of the shallow end.
She had a hold of his neck with her arms. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”
When her legs were locked, he gripped the hem of her tank top and pulled it over her head.
She plastered herself to his front. “What are you doing? What if Dante comes out here?”
“He’s sound asleep. Besides, with the lights off, he wouldn’t see anything.”
He maneuvered them around a bit, removing Gabriella’s bra and both of their shorts until he had them just how he wanted. Naked. He kicked with his legs, taking them to the far side, deep in the shadows.
“Now that you have me naked and wet, what are you going to do with me?”
With her back to the edge of the pool, he settled between her legs and slid in. Fuck she felt good. Like sliding into heaven. “That, cara mia. That’s what I’m going to do to you.”
Her head tipped back, offering him her neck. And he took it. Sucking and biting as he thrust in and out. The water lapped around them, intensifying the sensations, and too soon, he felt his balls tightening.
“You need to find it, streghetta. Fuck, you drive me over the edge.” He didn’t care how many times he’d fucked her, every time was as good as the first.
Her legs tightened around his waist, and her movements grew frenzied. He cupped her tits, pinching her nipples, and bit a sensitive spot on her neck. And that was all it took to have her shattering. Her pussy sucked at his dick, and he was a goner. With a roar, he came, spilling into her. Panting, he rested his head on her shoulder.
Gabriella’s fingers played through the hair at the back of his head, her nails skimming along his scalp. It felt good, and his dick twitched, almost ready for round two.
“We should do this every fourth of July. Make it a tradition.” Her warm breath whispered along his neck. That felt good, too.
“I say we do it every weekend.”
She laughed, the husky sound filling his ears. “I say we move it to the spa in the winter.”
His lips quirked and he chuckled. He raised his head, hers was right there, her lips right in front of him, and he took them, hungrily. After a long minute, he finally pulled away and admitted, “That’s probably a good idea.”
She gave him a look he’d come to learn was her of course, I’m right look, and said, “Of course, it’s a good idea. This pool, in the winter, would give new meaning to the term blue balls.”
He quirked a brow. “And how do you know about blue balls?”
She gave him a sassy smirk. “I read about them on the internet.”
Marco’s Proposal Poem
Together forever, we were meant to be
If you agree to marry me
My darkness, your light
Your softness, my might
I’m bad, you’re sweet
You’re true, I cheat
United you make me better
Gabriella, you make me whole
Say yes, and I’ll give you my soul.
For
You and me
It was written in the stars
This thing of ours
Want to know Nico and Olivia’s story? Read on for a peek at how they first met.
Bad Beat Chapter One
Nico clicked off his phone, hanging up with his friend Alec before immediately hitting speed-dial. The call was picked up after one ring. Without giving them time to speak, he ordered, "Meet me at the Moonlight Motel by the airport. Room fifteen. Now." He didn't wait for a reply. Clicking off the phone, he tucked it back into his inside jacket pocket.
From the press of a button on his dashboard, the automatic gate protecting his property was already parting by the time he reached it, but he had to slow his Porsche 911 Turbo to a crawl while waiting for it to open wide enough to fit through. His tires chirped as he took the turn out of his driveway before he punched it, speeding down the street.
His jaw flexed, and his hands tightened on the steering wheel as he thought about the news his friend had just given him. Alec's woman's brother was holed up in a motel because he owed money to a loan shark that he couldn't pay back. But that wasn't what pissed him off. If the stupid kid wanted to get in over his head that was his own damn business. No, what pissed him off was someone doing business in his territory without his express permission. And he knew the fool Royal Kingston owed money to didn't work for him because if he did, he wouldn't be charging the exorbitant interest he was. At least not if he wanted to keep working for him.
There were many vices to be had in Vegas, and the mob had their fingers in all of them, but his family had control of gambling. Bookies, loan sharks, and casinos, the Conti family had them all in their back pockets. The thought of some unknown, two-bit shylock stepping on their toes had his blood boiling.
A drive that should have taken fifteen minutes, Nico made in ten. But Alec had beaten him there. He walked through the motel room door and did a quick scan of the room.
Royal Kingston was tied to a chair, his face a bloody mess. Two men—who looked like two-bit criminals in their cheap-ass suits, slicked back hair, and blank expressions—stood on either side of Royal's chair. The shorter of the two, stood statue still with his hands at his sides, while his partner did the talking, waving a gun at Alec.
"Yeah? You and what army?" the guy holding the gun on Alec asked, proving his unoriginality didn't stop at his appearance.
Time to interject.
"Me." Nico stepped up to Alec's side.
"Now, who the fuck are you?" Nerves were getting to the guy. Nico spotted the way the gun shook in his hand as he raised it level with Alec's head. "Don't come any closer, or I'll shoot your friend."
"Well, you can try." Nico nonchalantly tucked his hands into the front pockets of his slacks, his right hand fisting his favorite stiletto.
"Hands out of your pockets." The tall guy, his eyes practically bugging from their sockets, turned his gun on Nico.
"Now, that was a really bad idea." Nico sneered.
"Oh, yeah? Why?" The guy licked his lips, his eyes darting around the room before landing back on Nico.
Nico made his move. "Because of this," he said while pulling the knife from his pocket and flicking the switch so the three-inch blade ejected from the top. With skill and accuracy, the knife whizzed toward the tall guy, implanting itself deep into the meaty flesh of his upper arm.
The guy screamed while Alec lunged, grabbing the guy's wrist. The gun went off, the shot going wide.
The short guy finally made a move. Nico saw him coming from his periphery and quickly turned his direction, taking the guy by surprise. Nico grabbed his gun from its holster at the small of his back and had the guy in a headlock, gun grinding into his temple, before he even knew what hit him.
"Don't move a fucking muscle," Nico snarled into the guy's ear.
Another shot blasted through the room, and Nico turned his head in time to see Alec's woman, River, crumple in a heap at the entrance of the open door.
Jolted into action and
not wanting to kill the guy he had restrained, Nico tapped him on the temple with the butt of his gun, knocking him out. Releasing his hold, Nico stepped over the asshole now slumped at his feet to go help Alec. But Alec was already on the move. Having incapacitated his guy, Alec raced to his girl, falling to his knees by her side.
Nico pulled out his phone and dialed his men to get their arrival status then clicked off putting his phone back in his pocket. Squatting beside the guy he'd knocked out, he searched for his phone and used it to call nine-one-one. Nico looked over, checking on Alec. His friend was barely holding it together.
Four of his soldiers walked through the door, and Nico immediately started issuing orders. Nodding to the two men lying unconscious on the floor, he said, "Take them to the south side warehouse. I'll meet you there shortly."
"You got it, Boss."
Nico watched as his men collected the trash then turned to River's brother, Royal, who'd yet to make a sound. Blood trickled from his nose, and one of his eyes was already starting to swell. "I was never here. You tell the cops the guys who did this ran after shooting the woman." He took a step closer, his expression hardening. Dropping his voice, he rasped, "You don't want to cross me on this."
Royal gave him a jerky nod. "Yeah. You weren't here. I got it."
Nico tipped his chin. "Good." He turned on his heel to join Alec.
Stripped to his shirtsleeves, his sole attention on River, Alec didn't acknowledge Nico's presence when he came up beside him. He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder to gain his attention, "Ambulance is on its way. I need to get out of here before the cops show up. I'll take the trash out with me. Tell the cops they ran. Understand?"
Alec nodded, issuing an affirming grunt.
Looking at his friend's ravaged expression, he vowed, "I will take care of this." His eyes flicked to River—her closed eyes, pale cheeks, the gun-shot wound in her shoulder, her blood making a trail on the floor—before landing back on Alec. His jaw hardened, and he spoke through clenched teeth. "They'll all pay." He gave Alec's shoulder one final squeeze before heading out the door.
Nico walked into the abandoned warehouse, his shoes scuffing on the gritty concrete floor as he made his way back to the room where they conducted their business. Although the interior of the warehouse was cooler than outside, it was still hot as hell, and he felt a bead of sweat roll down his back under the expensive fabric of his custom-tailored suit jacket and white dress shirt. Late August in the high desert had him daydreaming of a few laps in his pool.
But business first. Business he would greatly enjoy. Nobody fucked around in his territory and especially no one fucked with one of his friends. And he did consider Alec a friend. Although they were on shaky ground, having only reconnected a short time ago, he hoped they could put their past grievances behind them and get back the friendship they'd once had.
What Alec had never understood and had never bothered to stick around long enough for Nico to explain, was Nico had wanted the life he'd chosen. And though his father was the Don and that had made earning respect easier, it hadn't earned him the position he held today. He'd had to prove his worth and show his mettle to acquire the rank of Capo with his crew of twenty-five soldiers.
His men had already been at work extracting information when he walked into the room. The two thugs were stripped of their clothing and tied to chairs. The larger of the two was already unconscious with evidence of his men's interrogation techniques on full display.
Nico turned to Marco, his first in command. "Get a name?"
"Travis Scott."
"Get a location." Nico's attention was snagged by their captives when the larger guy moaned, and the smaller one whimpered.
"One sixty-eight Western."
Nico nodded once to Marco. "You're with me." He looked at Frankie. "So are you." He turned to his last two men present. "You guys clean up this mess. Call for help if you need it."
Nico turned on his heel and was almost to the door when he heard one of the captives call out, "What're you gonna do with us?"
He looked over his shoulder, eyeing both men. "You don't want to know."
The screaming started before he exited the warehouse.
The address ended up being a nondescript two-story building in a divey section of a commercial district. Nico got out of his Porsche and looked around, noting the lack of population. Mr. Scott was either not very smart or had a big set of balls to keep himself so isolated. He had to know his unethical practices would eventually gain him attention and that someone, like himself, would come looking for him.
Marco and Frankie pulled into the slot beside him. They got out of their Lincoln and did the same area scan he'd done.
Nico waited until they stepped over to him before he asked Marco, "You get any information?"
Marco looked at the rundown building and sneered, "He runs a two-bit whorehouse in there. That's all I could dig up by the time we got here."
Nico jerked his head toward the building. "Let's go."
The interior was a complete one-eighty from its outside surroundings. The dirty, cracked sidewalks littered with trash were exchanged for plush, red carpeting. The dull, gray concrete walls spray painted with graffiti were swapped for clean, beige walls decorated with colorful—if somewhat vulgar—framed prints. And the blistering outdoor heat was exchanged for cool air conditioning. Mr. Scott seemed to do well for himself. He'd have to fix that.
A voluptuous blond in a skintight red dress sitting at a large reception desk eyed him as he walked in. Her come-hither smile slowly dissolved as he drew near, and she got a good look into his eyes. He knew what she was seeing, he saw it when he looked in a mirror. Emptiness. Soullessness. Iciness.
Prey recognizes a predator.
"C... Can I help you, gentlemen?" She fiddled with the neckline of her dress, trying to shield her ample cleavage then tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
Nico gave her a stiff smile. "We'd like to see Mr. Scott."
Her eyes darted nervously to her phone then back to Nico. "Do you, um, have an appointment?"
"No."
Her eyes flicked to something behind him before she spoke again. "I'm sorry, but Mr. Scott doesn't see anyone without an appointment."
Nico internally sighed. He'd tried to be nice. "I don't think you understand. That wasn't a request. I will be seeing Mr. Scott, and you can either point me in the right direction and this will go smoothly, or I'll take it upon myself to find him, and I can promise, no one will like the outcome of that."
Her eyes flicked beyond him again, but he didn't take his eyes off her.
She licked her lips. "Just let me inform him you're here, Mr..." Her hand reached for the phone.
Nico's hand covered hers before she could lift the receiver. "That won't be necessary."
Her hand flinched under his, and her eyes grew wide as she tried to discreetly slide it away.
Frankie, growing impatient, stepped up to Nico's side. Nico laid a restraining hand on his arm before giving the blonde another tight smile. "Mr. Scott's office?"
He didn't need to ask again. She tipped her head. "Through the door behind you. His office is the double doors at the end of the hall."
His men entered Scott's office ahead of him, and he heard a gruff voice ask, "Who the fuck are you?"
Nico crossed the threshold and came into view. The straightening of Scott's spine and the widening of his eyes told Nico all he needed to know. "I guess introductions aren't needed."
Movement to Nico's right had his gaze swinging that direction. His body stilled. His heart stopped for a few beats, the last breath he'd inhaled didn't leave his lungs, and all thoughts of Scott ceased to exist.
Stunning. The word floated through his addled brain as his eyes locked onto the woman sitting at an angle on the leather couch, her legs crossed at the ankles and her hands neatly folded in her lap. Her petite form was packaged in a tacky, red dress that displayed far too much of her smooth, creamy skin. A woman that bea
utiful deserved to be decked in diamonds and furs.
His fingers itched to dive into her rich brown hair that cascaded like a waterfall in waves down her back, its long length nearly reaching her ass. Her head swiveled at his entrance. He was instantly captivated by her face even through its heavy coating of makeup. His eyes, first drawn to her full, lush lips, traveled up over a small pert nose to clash with her eyes. And that's where his stopped, held spellbound. A brown so light they were golden and shone just as bright, he'd never seen eyes that color and assumed it had to be a trick of the light.
He lost her eyes when Travis Scott spoke again and she turned her head back Scott's direction. "What the fuck do you want?"
Again, Nico wondered if the guy was stupid or brave as he took a step farther into the room, spearing Scott with a glare. The man swallowed and shrank back into his chair, trapped in the cold, dark depths of his eyes.
"Now, is that any way to speak to a guest?" Nico felt the weight of the woman's gaze, but this time refused to look her direction. She might have caused an uncharacteristic lapse in his attention once, taking him by surprise, but not again. When doing business, he was all business. He couldn't allow distractions. Not if he wanted to stay alive.
"You ain't no fucking guest," Scott barked. "Guests are invited and don't barge in unannounced."
Nico was growing tired of the guy's attitude.
"Boss?" From the tone of Marco's voice, so was he.
Time to teach this fucker a lesson in manners. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his knife, holding it down at the side of his leg. He didn't make a big show of it, but Scott was aware he'd extended the blade—the telltale click hard to mistake.
"You think I'm scared of a little blade?" Scott asked bravely, though Nico noticed he'd gone a little pale.
Nico shrugged, "I don't really give a shit what you think. All that matters is what I know."
"Yeah, and what's that?"
Nico was going to wipe that sneer off the fucker's face. But he didn't want to kill the guy, at least not yet. He wanted to play with him first. Ruin him. Make his life miserable. But even as patient as Nico was, this guy was pressing his buttons. "That I can kill you in less than three seconds with my little blade."