She took his face in her hands and left soft kisses at the corners or his mouth before nibbling on his lower lip. His hands slipped into the hair at the back of her head. He tried to pull her closer, tried to deepen their kiss, but she moved her lips up his jaw and bit softly on his ear.
His hands came around her waist, sliding down to her ass. He pressed into her until she could feel every inch of his erection, could almost feel the exquisite push of him into her. This was going to be harder than she expected. She wanted him filling her, wanted him fucking her. But not yet. First she wanted him to forget everything but her. Everything but this moment.
Trying to distract herself, she unbuttoned his shirt and moved her lips down his neck to his chest. She took one of his nipples in her mouth, closing her teeth gently on it before sucking it to a peak.
He gasped. “Angel…”
He reached for the bottom of her shirt and lifted it over her head, then pulled down the pink lace of her bra so her breasts spilled out of the top. She let him close his mouth around one nipple while his hand worked the other one. His tongue flicked against the tiny bud, sending arrows of fire through her body, and she let her head fall back, losing herself in the moment.
“I want to be inside you,” he said, his mouth moving to her other breast.
His words shook loose her purpose. This isn’t how this was going to go.
She bent her head to kiss his lips. “No.”
She rose off his lap and knelt between his legs, undoing the button on his slacks before rubbing her palm against the impressive bulge between his legs. He groaned, and she felt him thicken further under her hand.
She unzipped his pants and slid them off his body, releasing his magnificent cock. She took him in her hand, his flesh hot against her palm, and licked the smoothness of his tip before closing her mouth around it.
He drew in a ragged breath, and she pulled back, alternating between flicking her tongue against the head and sucking it until he became even bigger. Then she closed her lips around him and slid down his shaft until he was trapped in the moist heat of her mouth.
“Fuck, Angel,” he gasped.
She waited a few seconds, feeling him pulse with desire in her mouth, then slid her mouth back up while she stroked the base of his shaft. She took him again, in and out of her mouth, circling the tip with her tongue when she reached the top, burying him when he was all the way inside her mouth. She got wetter as he got harder, her own desire building as she felt the evidence of her control over him. Her power. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.
“Let me taste you,” he said, tugging at her arms.
She stroked him with her hand while she looked up at him. His eyes were glassy with desire. “No.”
She stood, untying the drawstring on her pants and letting them fall to the floor.
“Condom?”
He gestured in the vicinity of his pants on the floor. “Wallet.”
She found what she was looking for and stepped out of her lace panties before straddling his hips. A few seconds later she was poised over him, his tip straining at her entrance.
He looked at her with something like rapture. “Someday I’m going to come inside you, Angel. Then you’ll really be mine.”
She bent her head, dipping her tongue into his mouth, then lowered herself onto him with one slow movement.
He moaned in her mouth and grabbed ahold of her hips, thrusting upward. She was slick with need, and she met his movements instinctively, their bodies moving in perfect time while their tongues sparred in a frenzy. His body rubbed against her clit with every thrust, and she felt the orgasm mounting inside her, pushing her to the top of a peak from which there would be no return. No existence beyond the one she shared with Nico here and now.
“That’s right,” he murmured. “Come for me, baby.”
His hands slid down, spreading her ass, opening her further as he drove harder into her. The movement sent a shockwave of pleasure through her body, and she came apart in his hands while he continued moving inside her, his thrusts increasingly frenzied as she came again.
Then he was calling out her name, burying himself in her warmth while he held her hips, forcing her to relinquish any idea of control she might have had as he made her his all over again.
She collapsed on top of him, her body coated with a fine sheen of sweat. They didn’t say anything for a long time, the room seeming even more quiet as their breathing slowed. When she moved to get off him, he lowered her to the couch instead and stretched out next to her.
He stroked her hair back from her face while he looked into her eyes. “Do you know you’re mine yet?”
Yes, she wanted to say. I’ve always been yours.
But she couldn’t. It was nice to forget the things between them for awhile, but she wasn’t stupid enough to think that meant they didn’t exist.
She moved closer to him instead, then kissed him tenderly on the mouth before nestling into the crook of his arm, his heartbeat slow and steady under her ear.
This is Nico, she thought, drifting toward sleep. This man. This heartbeat.
34
The room was dark when Nico woke up with Angel, still naked, in his arms. He looked around, trying to orient himself. Then he heard something pop from outside, and he knew the noise was what had woken him.
He slid out from under Angel’s body and pulled on his clothes, hoping he’d been wrong.
But then he heard it again; several muffled pops from somewhere outside the house. He was leaning down to wake Angel when Luca slid into the room with two duffel bags in his hand. He didn’t waste any time getting to the point.
“The property’s been breached.” His voice was calm, but Nico saw his worry even through the darkness. “We have to get you and Angel out.”
Nico drew a blanket from the back of the couch over Angel’s naked form to shield her from Luca, then crossed the room.
“Which one of these is hers?” he asked Luca.
Luca handed him one of the bags and he hurried back the sofa.
“Angel,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We have to go.”
Shouting sounded from outside, followed by another series of muffled gunfire.
She sat up quickly. “What’s happening?”
“Someone’s here,” Nico said. He rummaged through the bag and pulled out a pair of jeans, a turtleneck, and a pair of sneakers. “Get dressed.”
She only hesitated a few seconds before she took the clothes from his hand.
Luca spoke from the shadows. “We have to hurry.” Angel’s eyes skipped to him, and she looked down at the blanket covering her body. “I’ll turn around,” he said.
She started pulling the clothes on as soon as his back was turned.
Nico hurried to his desk while she dressed, unlocking the drawer and pulling documents and cash from the false bottom. He took the other bag from Luca and stuffed everything inside. By the time he turned back to Angel, she was ready to go, duffel bag in hand.
Another round of gunfire sounded, closer this time, followed by a crash near the front of the house.
“Let’s go,“ Luca said. “Car’s ready.”
Nico pulled his leather jacket off a chair and helped Angel put it on. Then he positioned her between him and Luca, who maintained point in front the way they’d rehearsed it in the drills Nico had forced on his men.
Luca handed Nico a gun and pulled another one out of a holster under his jacket.
Nico took one last look at Angel. “Stay between us.”
She nodded, and he wondered if she knew what she was doing. If she was coming with him because she wanted to, because she had finally accepted the fact that she might not be safe with her father’s men, or because everything was happening too fast to come up with a plan for escape. He didn’t have time to come up with an answer.
Luca opened the door, listening for a second before sticking his head into the hall and looking both ways. He waved them forward, and Ang
el moved out behind him, Nico covering her back. They moved silently down the hall toward the back of the house just as the sound of splintering wood reached them from the front of the house.
Men shouted from the foyer, and Nico knew they’d been breached. Fuck. How the hell did Carl’s flunkies get past his men? Men who were young, highly trained, and prepared to kill for him?
He filed the question away for another time and stepped into the darkened dining room after Angel. They were almost to the kitchen when gunfire broke out behind them. He looked back to see two men in black entering the dining room, the muzzles of their guns flaring as they fired.
Nico turned to Angel. “Go with Luca. I’m right behind you.”
She shook her head, her eyes wide. “But you…”
“I’m right behind you,” he said again, shoving his duffel at Luca. “Go!”
Luca took her arm, forcibly pulling her through the door to the kitchen as she shouted his name. “Nico!”
He ducked behind a sideboard just as a bullet tore through his thigh. It felt like he’d been shot with fire, then quickly turned numb. He peered out from under the cabinet’s raised legs. Just the two men, one of them behind a dining chair and the other behind an old cabinet that stored his mother’s silver.
It was doable.
He thought about Angel, worry thrumming through his body at the thought of something happening to her. She was with Luca. She would be okay. Nico would get her out of here, and the men who had compromised her safety would pay.
He marked the first man, his head visible between the open slats of the chair back. Then he sprayed the room with bullets, taking advantage of the brief moment when they sought cover to turn his gun on the man behind the chair. Wood splintered around his head as he fell back onto the carpet.
Nico forced himself to take a couple breaths as adrenaline surged through his body. Mistakes were made in the space between thought and action, especially when thought was colored by panic.
He took another glance at the guy behind the big cabinet, and wood splintered around his head. He crawled to the other end of the sideboard, tipping it on its front to give him more coverage. Silver and china spilled to the floor around him.
He leaned back against the sideboard and considered his options. Angel was waiting for him, and who knew how many men Luca was fighting off outside. Nico couldn’t afford to engage in a standoff with this asshole.
He grabbed a nearby candlestick that had fallen off the cabinet and hurled it toward the kitchen door. The man emerged from behind the cabinet, firing in the direction Nico had thrown the candlestick. Nico took advantage of the diversion by firing at the man, then making a break for the kitchen door. The man stumbled back, clutching his chest, his eyes finding Nico’s through the dark.
Dante?
The question was still ringing through his ears as he burst into the kitchen. He could hear the sound of gunfire outside, footsteps on the floors above, but he hurried out the terrace door to the SUV with darkened windows that stood waiting by the back door. He hated leaving his men, but nothing was more important than getting Angel out alive.
He was looking for Angel and Luca when Luca stepped out from behind the car. “She’s inside,” he said. “Told her to keep her head down.”
Nico nodded, placing a hand on Luca’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary,” he said. “What’s the situation?”
“Men on the upper floors—not sure if they’re ours or theirs—and two in the dining room. One of them’s dead. I think the other one was Dante.”
Luca couldn’t hide his surprise. “Dante Santoro?”
Nico nodded. “I hit him, but I don’t know if it took him down. Be careful.”
“Will do.” Luca glanced back at the house as gunfire burst from the top floors. “Now get out of here. Plane’s waiting.”
Nico opened the door, relief flooding his body at the sight of Angel in the passenger seat. He slid behind the wheel.
“I’ll be in touch,” he said to Luca before closing the door. He put the car in gear and glanced at Angel. “Put on your seat belt.”
He heard the buckle click into place as he turned the car around and headed for the front of the house. They hit the front courtyard in a hail of bullets.
“Get down,” Nico shouted at Angel.
She ducked, and he veered around the fountain and headed for the drive as bullets shattered the rear window.
Nico held his breath when they entered the path leading to the main gate. The trees on either side blocked out any light, and he had no way of knowing if more gunmen were laying in wait.
But it wasn’t until the gate came into view that he saw what they were up against; six men standing in front of the closed gate with semi-automatic weapons. A quick rundown of their options left him with little choice. The iron fence surrounding the house was built to withstand severe force. If he tried to veer off road and crash through it, he and Angel might be killed. And if the fence didn’t give and the impact didn’t kill them, it would only be minutes until Carlo’s men—if that’s who they were—found them.
He pressed the button clipped to the visor and watched as the gate rolled open behind the men raising their weapons.
“Stay down and hang on,” Nico ordered Angel.
He took aim at the gate and ducked his head as the men started firing. Then he floored it, trying to keep the wheel straight so it would take them through the gate. He couldn’t have cared less about the men standing in front of it. They could move or die.
There was a split second when he wondered if they would make it. The car was barreling forward, bullets pinging off the hood, shattering the windshield. Then there was a sudden quiet, and they were skidding onto the private road outside of the house, fishtailing as Nico raised his head and corrected to keep them from sliding into the dense forest around the property.
He sat up and pressed the gas, relieved to feel the car respond even as wind whistled through the ruined windshield. Far behind them, he heard the sound of bullets, but the gunmen were too far back to do any damage.
He got off the main road leading from the house as soon as he could, winding his way toward the Thruway through the backroads. He half expected to see cars in the rearview mirror, but fifteen minutes later they were turning onto the highway, the road clear behind them.
He took a deep breath and looked at Angel. “You okay?”
She nodded, her eyes wide.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, her eyes drifting to his thigh. “You’ve been shot.”
He looked down at the blood soaking his slacks. “It’s fine.” He reached for her hand. “Let’s just get out of here.”
35
A private plane was waiting for them in Newburgh. They passed through customs and were on board before Angel had time to ask about her passport. Apparently, Nico’s influence extended to the TSA. The pilot welcomed them aboard the luxury jet, and they were in the air less then ten minutes later.
Once they’d reached a cruising altitude, they went into the stateroom so Nico could change. Angel had to fight panic when he stripped off his bloody pants. The wound was only half an inch in diameter, but blood still streamed from it, and the skin around it looked raw and sore. She told herself it was the blood that made her woozy, not the thought of losing him. She ignored the voice in her head that called her liar.
Nico inspected it dispassionately and declared that the bullet had gone straight through. He tried to dress it himself from an on-board first aid kit before Angel insisted on helping. She touched his skin lightly, cleaning the wound before slowly wrapping gauze around his leg. It was a different kind of intimacy, trying to keep from hurting him while he acted like it didn’t hurt at all, both of them avoiding the subject of everything that had happened at the house.
When they were done, Nico poured them a drink. They downed the contents of their glasses, and he pulled back the covers on the bed so she could cl
imb in. Then he stretched out carefully next to her and took her in his arms. Neither of them said a word.
She didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, but the hum of the plane’s engines coupled with Nico’s solid presence slowly calmed the churning of her mind. Nine hours later, they deplaned and stepped out into the Rome sunshine. A car was already waiting, and Angel was surprised when Nico stepped forward, kissing the driver on both cheeks like an old friend.
“Buona giornata,” he said to the stocky, older man.
“Buona giornata,” the man repeated, his smile wide.
“Come ti va la vita?” Nico asked.
“La vita è bella a Roma,” the man laughed.
Nico smiled. “Thank you for picking us up.”
The man opened the back door, switching seamlessly to English. “Say nothing of it, my friend.”
He put their bags in the trunk while Angel slid into the backseat. Nico followed, and the man shut the door and hurried around to the driver’s side.
“This is Antonio,” Nico said to her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet such a magnificent woman,” Antonio said, turning around to look at her.
“Stop flirting with my woman and drive,” Nico said with a smile.
Angel looked out the window, feeling a perverse sense of pleasure at the idea of being Nico’s woman. What was wrong with her? She was confused. Obviously. She hadn’t even tried to run back at the house in New York. True, she’d been half asleep, not even sure the men invading Nico’s property were there on her father’s behalf.
But that wasn’t it, was it? Not if she were honest with herself. Part of her—a big part—wanted to stay with Nico, rebelled at the idea of leaving him even as she knew it was inevitable. At some point she would have to learn the truth about her father, and there were only two ways it could turn out; either Nico was right and her father was a killer, or he was wrong and Nico was a liar. Was there any way forward for her and Nico in either scenario?
She thought about David. It had only been four days since she’d last spoken to him, but it felt like a lifetime. She missed him so much it hurt. She needed someone to talk to, someone who could give her perspective. She’d been too close to Nico for too long. She’d lost touch with herself, with the person she was before, and no one knew that person better than her brother.
Ruthless: Mob Boss Book One Page 17