“If Giancarlo Carosa is being arrested, what’s going to happen to his company?”
“Are you looking to swoop in and buy it up?”
“No, but he has a daughter who deserves to inherit it. I’m thinking a business lawyer should contact her ASAP before she loses that company to its board of directors.”
“Is that what happened when your father died?”
“No, but he had an ironclad will—and I’m male.”
“Well, I have what I need from you. We need to do a sweep of the building, and forensics needs to come through here. I’m not sure when we’ll be able to release the building back to you.”
“We’ll find other arrangements for the next full moon.”
Jameson held out his hand and Brock shook it.
It was a tight squeeze, but Brock managed to get his entire clan into his car. They drove back to his house for food and clothes. It was late by the time Brock was alone, too late to make any more phone calls, so he cleaned his kitchen and then went to bed.
Chapter 20
“The cellular customer you are trying to reach is not in the service area.”
Brock was tired of hearing that message, but he couldn’t stop calling Gia’s cell phone. He’d tried her home phone a few times too, but that had gone to voice mail. He was about ready to call her mother’s house when the doorbell rang.
He tossed his phone onto his desk and jogged down the stairs. He was honestly expecting reporters, even though it was Sunday, and was ready to tell them off. The words died on his lips when he swung the door open and saw it was Gia standing there. She wore a summer dress in cream with violet-colored watercolor flowers on the skirt. It turned her skin almost bronze. Her hair was loose over bare shoulders. She was glancing over her shoulder but turned as soon as she heard the door open. She smiled and time stopped.
His heart was beating so hard against his ribs it made his chest ache.
Finally, he said, “I’ve been trying to call your cell phone. You’re not answering.”
“I can’t answer,” she said. “It got smashed when I was rescuing my dad at his office on Friday. I haven’t had a chance to replace it yet. Maybe if my boss gives me some time off tomorrow I can go get that done.”
“I heard about your dad.”
“Yeah. Uh, can I come inside? I don’t really want to talk about him on the doorstep.”
“Of course.” He stepped back, mentally kicking himself for forgetting his manners. “Can I grab you a coffee or something?”
She shook her head. She was rubbing her arm and chewing on her lip, her eyes darting around the narrow hallway.
“Come into the living room and sit down. I guess there’s a lot to talk about. I didn’t get to talk to you at the warehouse after everything. It was so busy.”
“Yeah. I didn’t really want to talk. I had a lot to think about.” She had followed him to the living room but hadn’t sat down.
He sat, hoping she would follow suit. “A lot happened. I hope your dad is okay. I had to get him away from that wolf. I hope I didn’t hurt him.”
“I don’t give a shit what happens to that asshole,” Gia said. The words snapped out, quick and bitter. “He used me.”
“Okay, good, because I probably hurt him at least a little, and I didn’t really feel all that bad about it. I mean I did at the time, but after Officer Jameson told me about his involvement in …”
She stepped over to where he was sitting and cut off his rambling with a kiss.
“Okay then,” he said when she pulled back.
She was holding his chin in both hands, forcing him to look up at her. “Brock, I’ve been thinking, a lot. I left here angry, and I hope you don’t blame me for that. Your ex showed up here dressed to seduce…”
“She did?”
Gia narrowed her eyes at him, and at this angle the affects were intimidating.
“I honestly didn’t notice what she was wearing.”
“You didn’t notice that her shirt was only halfway buttoned?”
He shook his head as much as he could in her grip.
She kissed him again, short and sweet. “Well, I noticed. I noticed her shirt was unbuttoned and she was all mussed up like someone had been kissing her. And then she kissed you like it was something she still did all the time, and I sort of lost it. When I was tied up at the warehouse I knew you would come, but I only thought you’d come to save your clan. I didn’t think I mattered. I wanted to believe you. I wanted to trust you.”
“And now?”
“I miss you. I was in this house for less than a day and I miss it. I want to cook with you and rummage through that library—and help Connie with the repairs from the fire.”
“Help Connie?” he said. “And what will I be doing?”
“Not getting your lovely manicured hands dirty?” she offered and kissed him again.
The kiss was wonderful, but he wasn’t going to let the joke stand unchallenged, not until she slipped her tongue between his lips, and then he forgot everything and reached up to touch her. Just putting his hands on her waist made it easier for him to breathe. She was really here, she was really okay, and she was really kissing him. He closed his eyes and enjoyed every sensation.
When she pulled away, he said, “No more talking. Not now. Please. I need you.”
“That’s an awfully big window,” she said.
He opened his eyes and looked past her to the picture window and through it to the yard and the street beyond. “Yes, it is.”
“And the curtains are open.”
“Yes, they are.”
“And Connie and James are where exactly?”
“On their way to the airport to spend a week in the Dominican Republic. I bought them a vacation.”
“Then let me close the curtains.”
She stepped away, but he grabbed her wrist and said, “Don’t bother.” He led her up the stairs and into his bedroom.
If he had been planning to lead like he had in the library, she never got the chance to find out. As soon as the door was closed behind her she tugged his arm, spinning him to face her, and pressed her body against his. Their lips slammed together and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He wrapped his arms around her and then let his hands slide down to her ass. The cute little summer dress she was wearing made it too easy for him to get his hands on her legs and ass, and she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she pressed herself harder against him as soon as his hands made contact with her skin.
He stumbled back and she pressed her advantage sending them both onto the bed. He slid back, pulling her with him, until they were both comfortable. The whole time Gia kept right on kissing him, deep passionate kisses that sent his heart racing.
He pushed her skirt up over her waist and grabbed her ass again.
She kissed his jaw and nibbled on his ear before trailing kisses down his neck. Her teeth closed over his neck and his body went rigid, his hands going still. He tipped his chin up, offering her his throat, offering his surrender. Her hands roamed over him as her teeth held him in place.
As soon as she released his throat, he flipped her on her back and straddled her. He pinned her wrists above her head and kissed her. In the past, he had kept his kisses gentle, his passion restrained, but this time he did not hold back. He kissed her hard and deep and long. When he slipped his tongue in her mouth, she closed her lips around it and sucked. When he kissed her neck, she tried to bite his arm, the only thing she could reach.
He pinned both her delicate wrists under one hand and grabbed her chin, pushing it up to reveal her neck. He had surrendered to her, allowed her to claim him, to dominate him, and now he was going to dominate her. When his teeth closed over her neck she arched her body, pressing up against him, urging him to possess her.
They were both wearing too many clothes. The thought was enough to make him release her and sit up. He tossed his shirt aside and she ran her fingers over his chest. She frowned and ran her finger o
ver a white line parallel to his ribs.
“Did this happen at the warehouse?”
He nodded and took her hand. “Don’t worry, it’s almost healed already. I don’t scar as easily as you do.” She still had her bullet wound wrapped in a bandage.
She sat up and kissed the scratch. Then she kissed down his side to the waist band of the sweatpants he was wearing. A little tug on the waist band was enough to reveal he wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and it was obvious he was already hard. She tugged again and looked up at him.
He slid off the bed and stepped out of the pants. “How does that dress come off?”
“It doesn’t,” she said. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of her underwear and shimmied out of them, dropping them on the floor. She patted the bed. “Get comfortable.”
When he was sitting in bed, propped up on the pillows, she crawled over and ran her hands over his legs. She settled in the space between his legs, still running her hands over him. She started at his knees and trailed kisses slowly up his thighs. Hands and lips moved higher. Her fingers brushed his hips and abs. She bit his hip and then kissed it. One side and then the other, kisses and nips, sometimes going lower to his thighs again, sometimes leaving a butterfly-soft trail of kisses over his stomach.
He stroked her hair away whenever it fell in her face, wanting desperately to see her as she kissed him and touched him and tormented him.
He’d been hard before, but now it was beginning to ache with need and she was clearly ignoring it. He growled, deep in his throat, a low, threatening sound.
She nipped his hip.
He fisted his hands in her hair.
She sat back as far as he would let her and just stared at him.
He wanted her. He wanted to guide her to where he needed her. He wanted to take her. But he wanted her not just today but for forever, and she had to trust him for that. He had to be able to control himself around her. He’d controlled himself for Belle and for Stephanie, but he’d never felt the same burning need for them that he felt for Gia. She was more than he’d ever had, more than he’d ever wanted, and she was willing to be his.
He let go.
She leaned forward, her eyes still locked on his, and licked his cock from root to tip.
He shuddered and closed his eyes.
She took him into her mouth and worked him over, quickly and thoroughly, making him groan. Then she took him in her hand and stroked him as she kissed her way up his stomach and chest.
She straddled him, her skirt flaring around them, and rubbed against him. Then she took him inside and began to ride him.
He wanted to touch her, wanted to see her whole body again, but every time he reached out to push her skirt up or take her breasts in his hands she pushed his hands away.
“No hands,” she said. “No touching. I want to ride you.”
“At least let me see you,” he groaned.
She arched her eyebrows and gave him a coy smile. She reached up with both hands and gathered up her hair. She rocked her hips, chewing her lower lip and arching her back, sighing with pleasure. Her eyes were closed. She was playing it up for him, teasing him.
He bucked his hips, sending her off balance. She caught herself against his chest with a startled squeak. He reached up and touched her, caressing her breasts through the fabric of her dress. She pulled away, laughing and started riding him again. She ran her hands over her breasts and played with her smooth brown hair.
He was grinning now too. He tried to slip a hand under her skirt again, just to feel the smoothness of her thigh, but she stopped him.
“You’re driving me crazy. I want to see your body.”
“That’s just too bad. I’m not taking this dress off, and I’m not letting you take it off me.”
He growled again.
She looked him right in the eyes with steel in her gaze. “You can try to intimidate me all you want Mr. Big Billionaire Werebear. Unless you plan on ripping my new dress, it’s not coming off.”
“Very new?” he growled.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He reached out before she could slap his hands away and grabbed the dress at the collar in both hands. With a grunt, he pulled. The dress resisted at first, but as soon as the collar seam let go the whole thing split down the front from collar to skirt with an audible rip.
“That wasn’t a suggestion,” she shrieked. He bucked his hips again and she toppled against him with a gasp.
She was still spluttering curses at him as he reached behind her neck and tugged the tie free. When she sat up, the dress slid uselessly down her back to pool around her ass.
He grabbed her breasts with both hands. “That’s better,” he said. He thrust again, not as hard or sudden this time. Glaring, she tried to pull away, but he grabbed her hips.
“Where are you going?”
“You ripped my new dress.”
“You suggested it. You said it was new. That means it should be easy to replace. I plan to buy you a new one. Or three. Or whatever you want. I was thinking I’d buy you a white dress too.”
“Are you proposing? Now?”
“Not officially. Do you forgive me?”
“Not officially,” she huffed.
“Then let me apologize some more,” he said. He rolled her over and started fucking her, walking that line between passion and dominance. His hands explored her as he watched her writhe in pleasure.
He pulled her up so she was sitting on his lap and grabbed her hips. They were hot and sweaty and their lips came together as they moved together. He laid back and let her ride him again, watching her breasts bounce as she pleasured herself on his cock. His fingers were digging into her thighs but she didn’t complain. She did grab his wrists and arch her back as an orgasm ripped through her. She screamed his name, her hips rocking against him.
It was too much for him. The pressure that had been building deep in his groin reached critical. His whole body went rigid, his back arched, pressing his cock deeper inside of her, making her scream again. And then he exploded, filling her even as she collapsed against him.
Somehow, they managed to find their way back to the pillows and she snuggled up against him. The tussled blankets were kicked away—it was too hot now for covers. He stroked her hair as she struggled to get her breathing under control.
He kissed her forehead. “I love you.”
She sighed. “I love you too.”
Chapter 21
Gia woke to the sound of running water. It was late afternoon and the nap had done wonders at relieving the stress and exhaustion remaining from the last few days. Of course, the sex had helped too. She was alone in Brock’s bed, which explained the running water, and she stayed snuggled in the sheets, taking the opportunity to look around.
She hadn’t noticed much on her way in, and she wanted to get a feel for this room, for who Brock was behind closed doors in his most private of spaces. It wasn’t a large room, which surprised her since he was the man of the house—and it was a very large house. He had a simple queen-sized bed on a wooden frame with a plain wooden headboard and a matching dresser. The carpet and curtains were a dark gray-blue. The bedding was white and teal. Everything was neat and clean. There was a painting on the wall opposite the headboard, a three-foot by four-foot unframed canvas of a pine forest in winter. A stag peered out from between snow dusted needles. It seemed out of place in the New Orleans heat, but it matched the room perfectly.
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