by Bethany-Kris
A bodyguard, basically.
Rarely did he show himself.
If he did ...
August knew that meant bad things.
“What’s wrong?” Camilla asked.
“Something’s happened, Cam,” he said quickly, “an attack on the east side, and to be safe, Tommaso asked that I take you home. Tom will be there to meet you.”
They didn’t question the man, quickly gathering their things to leave. Alessa said her goodbyes, with another reminder to August that the job was there when, or if, she wanted it. At the same time, Camilla shot August a look that spoke volumes without ever saying a word.
We’re talking about this later.
Yeah, she didn’t doubt it.
• • •
As the enforcer promised at the café, Tommaso was home to meet his wife when they arrived back at their place. However, Camilla seemed less interested in her husband and his conversation on the phone in the living room, and more focused on throwing question after question at August.
“When did you have a meeting with Alessa about the job in Chicago?”
“Shortly after I arrived,” August replied, although she wasn’t entirely in the conversation. Camilla might not have been interested in listening to the conversation Tommaso was having, but she heard him say a name that had all of her attention at once.
“And Beni is okay?” Tom asked in the next room.
Oh, God.
Beni.
It was Beni.
Or was it?
She didn’t know, but she intended to find—
“And you didn’t think to tell me at all about it?” Camilla demanded.
August let out a hard breath, turning to face her friend. “Do you tell me every single little detail about your life?”
“I at least try! You purposely kept this from me, August. Like fine, I get it ... maybe you don’t want to be in Chicago, or whatever. But you could have just told me you had the meeting with Alessa. You didn’t have to keep it a secret, you know?”
That’s what she thought?
Honestly?
“You think it was just about me keeping a secret and not the fact that maybe this is a huge choice for me to make, and I might have wanted to do it alone without yours, or someone else’s, input, Cam?”
“I don’t know what you thought because you didn’t tell me!”
“A concussion, and some bruises?” she heard Tommaso ask. “Good, good, then he’ll come back from that after a couple of days of rest, no worries. Get someone on Beni, make sure he’s got an enforcer posted at his door, so he can do exactly that ... no, I’ll call my father, and let him know. He’ll deal with the rest how he wants to ... yeah, later.”
It was Beni.
He had been hurt.
Attacked.
August’s entire heart felt like it fell right out of her chest, and shattered to a million and one pieces on the floor. She turned on her heel, not bothering to explain to Camilla what she was doing or why she wanted to end their conversation, before heading to the living room where she found Tommaso slipping his phone into the pocket of his slacks.
“Is Beni okay?” she asked.
Tommaso nodded her way. “Yeah, looks like he’s going to be fine. Although, we don’t know who in the hell attacked him. Mostly superficial shit, but—”
“Where is he?”
The man’s gaze drifted behind August before coming back to her just as fast. “According to my man, he’s been released from the hospital, and should be getting back home anytime. If he follows my orders, that’s where he’ll stay for a couple of days until he’s feeling like his usual self.”
That should make her feel better.
She should breathe easier.
And yet ...
Nope.
All it served to do was make her feel worse because all she had was third-party information, and she hadn’t actually seen Beni for herself. That was not going to work for her at all in this situation.
“Can you get someone to drive me over to his place?”
“Yeah, absolutely. Just let me call—”
“Are we not going to finish our conversation, then?” Camilla asked.
“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” she asked, slipping past Camilla in the entryway to grab the things she’d left in the hallway. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Or are you just trying to avoid it the way you didn’t even bother to tell me in the first place?”
August swung around on her friend, knowing and understanding damn well why she was mad, and that she had a right to be. At the same time ... “Cam, I love you.”
“I know.”
“But I am also allowed to make my own decisions. And sometimes, that means doing things alone. Making decisions by myself. Especially when it is something as big and important as changing careers, or moving to an entirely new state away from the only family I really have. And no, you don’t get to be mad at me because I want to take the time to decide whether or not that is the right decision for me. It’s not about you, or us being friends since forever, okay? It’s about me, and what I need.”
Camilla snapped straight, the annoyance in her features drifting away. “I ... know that.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then, act like it!”
“August.”
Jesus.
The very last thing she wanted to do was fight with her best friend. The girl who had her back all through high school. The first person she told when she kissed a boy, and the night she lost her virginity. The woman who, without question, would be there for her at the drop of a hat simply because she said she needed her.
She didn’t want to fight with Camilla ever.
And yet, she couldn’t stay here like this, either. She sighed, the panicked need in her chest growing and thumping deeper in her bloodstream with each beat of her heart—the desire to go see Beni because he had been hurt taking over everything, including her desire to continue this conversation.
“I know, Cam,” she said. “You’re mad—because we always talk about everything. I know. And this time, I didn’t tell you. I just needed to make the decision alone, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her friend was still mad, though.
August understood why.
“I’ll tell you what Alessa offered me, and what I’m thinking about it, later. Okay? Right now, I just really want to go see Beni.”
Camilla nodded quickly. “Yeah, sure. I understand.”
But did she?
God.
August hoped so.
• • •
“Oh, my God, look at you,” August whispered when Beni pulled open the apartment door. A massive bruise colored the side of his face right up to his temple. It continued into his hairline. Other than the discoloration and the obvious bump left on the side of his face from whatever hit him, the rest of his face was left untouched. “That looks like it hurts.”
“Apparently,” he drawled, “one hit was enough. Whoever it was just wanted to knock me out. Probably because they hadn’t been expecting me to be in there, or whatever.”
The guy posted at Beni’s apartment door—the enforcer Tommaso mentioned earlier—cleared his throat. “Didn’t think you would mind me letting her in.”
“Of course, not. Thanks.”
“Are you going to make me stand in the hallway, or ...?”
Beni laughed tiredly, but shrugged as he moved back, and opened the door wider. She stepped in behind him, giving the man at the door a smile before closing it to leave him in the hallway alone. Not that he looked like he minded.
His job, and all.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Work,” Beni replied, turning around to head deeper into the apartment, while giving her a great view of his muscular, defined back at the same time. “I got called in for something that had happened, and someone hit me when I came out of the office. But hey, at least t
hey didn’t hit me when my back was turned.”
August frowned, following him until they reached the living room, and Beni fell into the corner of the couch. She didn’t sit, though. “Was that supposed to be a joke about this?”
“Woman, if I don’t find something to fucking smile about right now, someone might die.”
Well, then.
Okay.
She came around the front of the couch, folding her arms over her chest as she surveyed his injury again. It really did look terrible, and she bet it was mighty sore. Her fingers itched to reach out and graze the bruise just to see if it was warm under her touch, and if she might be able to soothe whatever pain he was feeling.
Her stare did not go unnoticed.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Beni murmured, his hand coming out to rest overtop the denim covering her hip. “A concussion, and some bruising. That’s it.”
“Yeah, this time.”
His gaze darted up to hers.
August just shrugged.
“Cam’s really mad at me,” she said, tone dropping lower.
“Why?”
“She found out that I had a meeting with Alessa for the job offer.”
“Shouldn’t that make her—”
“And that I still didn’t tell her about it until she found out by accident.”
Beni sighed. “Ah, yeah. I mean, that might rub somebody wrong, I guess.”
Somewhere in the apartment, a phone rang. She recognized the tune as his cell phone, but he didn’t look the least bit interested in getting up to answer the call. In fact, he brushed it off with a roll of his eyes.
“Fucking thing won’t shut up, and if I didn’t feel like the room was spinning every time I stand up, I would find it and turn it off,” he muttered.
August smiled a little. “I’ll find it for you after, and shut it off.”
“Oh, does that mean you’re staying?”
Why did that question sound like more than just him asking for her to stay the night with him? She pushed the thought out of her mind, unsure if that was his intention, or just her subconscious making its desires known.
That hand of his stroked up and down her hip, but his gaze focused on her face. “Don’t move too much, okay? Makes me dizzy.”
“Jesus Christ, Beni.”
“Yeah, concussions blow.”
She shook her head. “You know, all this showed me was that even more of my life would change, if I decided to move here permanently.”
His brow furrowed.
So fucking cute, too.
She pushed that thought away.
“How so?” he asked.
“At home, I don’t face this kind of thing. The mafia. All the business, and issues. And since I’ve come to visit, it feels like that’s all I’ve seen. It kind of makes me think that it would be yet another change for me to handle, and that’s ... well, it terrifies me.”
“August?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m fine.”
She reached out to let her fingertips graze his bruised temple. She had been right, too, as the injury felt warm to the touch, and that only concerned her more. This was scary. That he was involved in something that could end his life. That her best friend married the same kind of man. She had chosen to see the man Beni showed her, instead of the details of his life that promised sleepless nights filled with worry, and days like today.
And still ...
She wanted him.
There were just other things she had to handle first. Her thoughts, and feelings. A job back home that she hadn’t loved in a long time. Her parents ... all of it. And she wasn’t going to explain or apologize to anyone for wanting to make sure that this—Chicago—was the right choice for her. Even if that meant going back home for a while to figure it out alone.
August leaned down, and pressed a soft kiss to Beni’s lips, and reveled in the feeling of his smile growing against her own. “I’m still allowed to be worried.”
Beni nodded. “You are, and is that a yes on staying the night?”
“Who the hell else is going to make sure you stay awake for twelve or more hours?”
13.
“Are you seriously telling me,” August teased, pointing a confectioner’s sugar-dusted finger at the pile of fluffy pancakes she had let him make for her, “that this is only the second time you’ve cooked pancakes?”
Beni nodded, and tried to tamper down the urge to lean forward just enough that he might be able to suck on the tips of her sweetened fingers. It was a strong fucking urge though, and he really wasn’t in the mood to ignore it. After the night he had before, the few hours of sleep he was finally allowed to have, and the sex he couldn’t have because this woman was sure it wasn’t okay with a concussion ... he was ready to just get what he wanted.
Which was August.
On his dick.
That sounded like a really great way to begin a day like today after a shitfest like yesterday. That’s all he was saying.
“Really?’ August demanded again. “And just lick my damn fingers if that’s what you want to do—I can see that, you know?”
Beni laughed deeply, adoring this woman even more for that. Leaning against the counter like he was beside her, it allowed him to be able to look up at her, and he winked. “Listen, yes, much to my mother’s displeasure, I never wanted to learn to cook. Someone else was always willing to do it for me. My brother and I ... well, we mostly just ordered in or got easy shit anyone could cook with directions on the box. Apparently, you give me Google and a how-to video, and I can cook just about anything.”
She arched her brow. “So, what you meant to say is you were spoiled.”
Well ...
“Basically,” he said, shrugging. “We’re the babies of the family. Probably a little too wild for our own good, and we got away with a lot of shit our brothers never would have been allowed to do just because we were the youngest. It was just these last few months, being here in Chicago, that I chilled out a bit.”
August huh’d under her breath before asking, “And why did you just all of the sudden decide to start cooking?”
Beni glanced away from her, an unusual emotion heating his cheeks.
“Oh, my God,” August said, a laugh coloring her words, “is that the Beni Guzzi embarrassed?”
Fuck, this woman.
She was going to kill him.
In the best way.
Swallowing his pride just to admit she was right and let her in on another secret that she had probably already figured out, he said, “I thought ... fuck, you were the first woman I let stay the entire night—ever. I figured if I was gonna do that again—because I was going to do that again—then I should know how to make you something to eat in the morning ... or you know, whenever you needed to eat while you were here.”
August just ... stared at him.
Still, and smiling softly.
Beni grinned, remembering the other part of this conversation that he had been trying to have before they got into this one. “And come here ...”
His hand darted out, his fingers circling her delicate wrist, so he could pull her to him. He brought those still-sugar dusted fingers of hers to his lips, kissing the soft sweetness on the tips before he enclosed them in his mouth.
And yes, sugar on this woman’s skin was perfect.
Like her.
He locked eyes with her as his tongue slid along the side of her fingers, making sure to take every last bit of it that he could find. There was something primal at the swell of satisfaction in his blood at the sight of her moaning for nothing more than his mouth on her fingers.
“Fuck, you better do something with that mouth of yours, Beni. Somewhere else.”
He let go of her fingers with a dark laugh—thick, and pleased. In one fell swoop, he had her picked up at the waist, and sat down on the small island in the moderately sized kitchen. It was the biggest room in the whole damn apartment, for whatever reason.
Una
shamed, she widened her legs for him. That T-shirt of his that she’d worn to bed riding up around her hips to give him a beautiful view of her bare pussy spread out for him to feast on. Because that was the thing—when he ate pussy, he wanted to drown in it. And there was something about the taste of August that just got his dick rock-hard at nothing more than the thought of it alone.
It kind of drove him crazier that after she jumped out of the shower that morning, she put on his clothes for bed. The shirt that still smelled like him, but looked so fucking good on her. And she didn’t even put her panties back on.
He knew why, too.
He wasn’t the only one wanting his dick to get wet.
“Give me your mouth,” she said, voice hot with anticipation.
His hands curved to her inner thighs, pushing those legs of hers open even more as he leaned in for his first taste. A full stroke of his tongue from the slit of her pussy to her shuddering clit. The cry that fell from her lips was heavenly.
A new song for him to learn.
Beni went back down to her slit, feasting on that taste of her just long enough that her legs started to shake under his hands. Then, he was right back at her clit with a fast, hard beat that’d he learned she liked. He kept that pace up until she was digging her fingers against his scalp and threading into his hair, hips rolling into his mouth, and his name on her lips like a fucking prayer.
Her orgasm came on hard.
Broken cries.
Flushed skin.
And the taste of salt and sex against his tongue.
He watched her fall apart above him, hotter than fucking ever with his dick feeling like it was about to punch a hole through the pants he’d thrown on earlier to be respectably decent. He dotted kisses up her pelvis, across the expanse of her stomach, letting his tongue pick up the distinct taste of her as he went.
Then, he kissed under her heaving breasts, and up the valley between them, stopping to let his teeth find her collarbones as her whispers came out needy and fast.
“I fucking want you so bad.”
“Do you?” he asked, mouth grazing hers.
“Yes.”
“Say it, then. Fuck me, Beni. Tell me what you want, August.”
She didn’t even hesitate.
And God, that was even better.