by Bethany-Kris
Not because she was average.
Quite the opposite.
She looked like a fucking angel. Her dark brown hair had been pulled into a sleek, high pony with not a single strand out of place, and the ends flowed all the way down her back. It showed off her angular jaw, and the smoothness of her olive-toned skin. Heart-shaped lips pursed when the guy beside her continued to chatter on as though she was listening to him. Her brown eyes were accentuated further by, the starkest piece of her mostly neutral makeup, an inky wing that was made more dramatic by the curve of long, black eyelashes.
Yeah, shit.
Girl was beautiful.
How had he missed her?
It certainly spoke to Bene’s distraction, and his mood when he didn’t notice a woman like that coming to sit right beside him. The restaurant certainly wasn’t high class. The Guzzis owned more than enough of those types of places, and this joint was laid-back, and most were welcome which was why Bene liked it as much as he did. One could meet all sorts of people from all different walks of life just by coming to have a drink at the bar.
This chick, though?
He’d never seen someone like her walk through the doors.
And damn ...
That was a shame.
“Are you here with—”
“Me,” Bene spoke up before he could really think it through, making the woman glance up from the drink in front of her, and then over at him. “She’s here with me.”
The guy beside her—Mr. Fucking Suit—narrowed his gaze at Bene. “Sorry, but weren’t you here before me?”
The woman, to her benefit, kept staring at Bene, never dropping his gaze even as he lied for her again so that she wouldn’t be bothered further by the asshole to her right. “People can’t meet up for a drink, or do they always need to come together?”
“Well—”
“I’m here with him.”
God.
Yeah.
Her voice.
Before, she sounded bored and just fucking over it. As though she regretted sitting down, and one more word from the asshole beside her was going to send her straight over the edge. Now, though, staring at Bene while her soft pink lips curved in a sensual smile ... her voice came out musical, and intriguing.
Just a hint of air.
Curiosity.
He smirked and pointed at her mostly empty glass. “Another one of those?”
Mr. Fucking Suit had just enough decency to roll his eyes and stand from the stool before tossing a few bills to the bar. He made himself scarce, and neither Bene, nor the woman, watched him leave, either.
“Depends,” she returned.
Bene grinned. “On what?”
“Are you going to finish yours? I can’t imagine drinking with someone who doesn’t seem very interested in being good company. And you’ve been staring at that drink of yours for at least an hour now, right?”
Damn.
How long had she been beside him?
Watching him?
On another evening, that might have bothered him. Right then, he found it interesting, and her ... even more so because of it. Still, he glanced down at his drink, considering her offer.
“I really shouldn’t,” he said, “because lately, this shit has caused me nothing but problems.”
“Ah.”
He shrugged and watched a new highlight reel play through on the television. “I don’t need to let it become a bigger problem, that’s all.”
What was he doing?
Why was he spilling his guts to some random woman? At a bar?
She didn’t seem to mind. “The joy of adulting. I used to think turning twenty-one would be the best thing ever, and really ...”
Bene laughed, peering over at her. “Not that great, huh?”
“All I learned about growing up was that with adulthood comes adult problems.”
“Fuck, don’t I know that?”
“And to think, I thought getting older would just mean looking older.”
“You look fine.”
He hadn’t meant for it to come out as sly and deep as it did—that huskiness colored up his tone, and he wondered where in the fuck it even came from. Not that it mattered, because it was out there now, and her dark brown eyes—pools of glimmering russet—glittered from his suggestive statement.
“Thank you.”
“No thanks needed. I’m sure you know how you look.”
Her smile deepened, showing off perfect white teeth, and making her almond-shaped eyes lower a bit as color tinted her cheeks. Was that ... shyness? Shit, this woman was quickly working on making Bene lose any and all control he had. There was something about a beautiful woman—as sexy as her, dressed like she was, looking like she fucking did beside him—who also managed to be humble when paid a compliment that just did it for him.
“Do I?” she asked, leaning forward a bit.
Closer, he noticed.
And Bene, who didn’t hold an ounce of shame, leaned closer to her, too. He was more than willing to feed into whatever this woman wanted as long as she kept smiling like that ... not to mention, at him.
Her teeth caught her fuller bottom lip when he tipped his head to the side, and asked, “Do you, what?”
“Know how I look,” she said softly.
“Don’t you? Do you need me to tell you how beautiful you are, and fill your head with whatever words fly out of my mouth just because? Or is the way I look at you good enough to tell you that you’re—by far—one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever had the pleasure of looking at in my life?”
She dragged in a quick breath, and the color came back to her cheeks in a flash. Not that it changed the way her gaze lit up with heat all over again.
Bene nodded, and leaned back to sit straight on his stool, and put a bit of space between them. “But you know,” he continued, “it’s all in what you want, too, I suppose.”
She shrugged, clearly trying to play off his words though he could see exactly how they affected her. He admired the way her olive-tone skin gleamed at her shoulders—he wondered what her flesh might taste like under his tongue while his hands worked between her thighs. Or shit, even better, with his cock filling her full and his name on her lips.
Speaking of which ...
“You haven’t told me your name,” Bene murmured.
“Vanna. Vanna Falco.”
The name rang no bells.
“God’s gift.” Bene chuckled at the way her eyes widened at his knowledge of the meaning of her name. “Appropriate, then.”
“How so?”
“My name is Benedetto—but I go by Bene. Bene Guzzi. Spelled b-e-n-e. With that hard ay at the end.”
Vanna tilted her head sideways, his name falling from her lips far too seductively as she tried it out. “Bene.”
Yeah.
Hell.
That did great things for his cock.
“But how is that appropriate?” she asked.
Bene leaned in close to her again, just like before. And this time, she leaned into him, letting him get close enough that he could whisper in her ear when he said, “My name means blessed. And apparently, I am exactly that, considering who is sitting next to me.”
He moved to sit straight on his stool again, but Vanna quickly stopped him by doing nothing more than placing her hand to his thigh. A soft, innocent touch, sure, but those manicured, long pale pink fingernails of hers dug into his pant leg, and had his throat tightening instantly. He didn’t move a muscle, not even when she turned her head to the side, and he felt the way her lips curved into a sly smile.
“That was quite the line.”
“Did it work?” he asked.
Vanna tipped her chin up, their gazes met, and he had the pleasure of watching her tongue slide along her lower lip as she nodded. “It definitely worked.”
She closed that bit of distance between them first, but there wasn’t the slightest bit of hesitation in her actions when she kissed him. Just a soft graze of
her lips moving with his before her mouth parted, and he found she tasted like sugared liquor, and pure heat. Sin, if it had a taste, he was sure. And she kissed how she looked, too ... sweet and perfect and sexy. Licking the flavor of him right from his tongue while the slowness of her kiss had him feeling like he was about to run out of air.
Goddamn.
His hands found her thighs when she turned on the stool, forgetting his place, and where they currently sat in a very crowded bar. Not that she seemed to mind, given her hand tightened on his thigh while she used her other to stroke those nails down his jaw.
“Fuck,” he breathed against her mouth.
Vanna smiled. “That’s totally an option, too.”
Bene let out a hard, gruff noise. “Is that a promise?”
“How far is your place?”
That’s all he needed to hear.
4.
Less than a block.
He lived less than a block away from the restaurant. Someone might call it divine intervention that the two of them would meet so close to where he lived, but she wouldn’t. She would say it was because she had good info, and the ability to frequent Bene’s haunts until the two of them bumped into one another.
And while she was happy to continue her plan—her need to fulfill her dead father’s vendetta still as strong as it ever was—she would be a liar if she said the man she came face to face with in that restaurant was not at all who she expected him to be. Perhaps a part of her had simply been convinced the man would be the spoiled, airheaded privileged Guzzi twin that the media portrayed him to be. Quick to jump on whatever pretty face threw eyes his way, and easily riled when his ego was stroked.
Weren’t most men the same, after all?
Bene had not been any of those things. Sure, she was a pretty thing who threw eyes at him, but that had been for an hour. She tried everything to turn that man’s gaze away from the television, and the drink in front of him. In fact, Vanna had been just about ready to up and leave Bene’s side when the man to her right started talking like she had anything at all to say to him. Whatever finally made Bene lift his head, look at her, and begin that conversation—simply thinking of her, and wanting to help out without any expectation of something back—changed everything.
Luck, maybe.
But when he lifted his head?
That’s when she saw the sadness. Something haunted in his eyes and face that made her realize, no, he wasn’t ignoring her ... he simply didn’t see her world because he was too busy living in his own.
Then, he spoke.
And grinned.
Made her forget they were sitting in a bar, surrounded by people and noise. Somehow, he made her lose herself, and time, too. As though they were just two people having a conversation, that she wasn’t there by her own making, just to run into him so that she could soon ruin his life, and his family’s.
Oh, that wish was still there.
But for a time, she forgot.
He was not who she expected. He said a little less than a block to his place, and she didn’t hesitate to agree. And in the time it took the two of them to walk to the large building where Bene’s penthouse suite was apparently located thirteen floors high, Vanna hadn’t once second-guessed what she was doing with Bene Guzzi.
Yes, she hated his family for the things they had done. She planned to make him and the rest of them pay for it without a doubt. At the same time, she wouldn’t lie and say the man hadn’t engaged her mind, made her wet between her thighs, and had her believing he truly did think she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Until this moment, Vanna hadn’t known how she would get her in to the Guzzi family. And right now? She had no problem with using Bene Guzzi to do it, and if she got to take the man on a ride during the process ...
Vanna saw no problems.
All those thoughts drifted through her mind as she watched Bene finish up a phone call just outside the front entrance of his apartment building. He stepped away to take it, promising to shut the thing off after for the night—that was enough to make her shiver, too.
Fuck her anticipation.
It was something else entirely now.
“Yeah, I got you ... tomorrow, all right.”
Bene hung up the call, and Vanna leaned against the brick of the building. A couple of feet away from the front doors. The halo of light spilling out to the sidewalk and street allowed her a great view of his strong profile, the dimple that peeked in his cheek when he grinned, and how his features seemed carved from granite.
Bene was a handsome man.
From his dark hair, to his gorgeous face.
A kissable mouth.
Black slacks, and a white dress shirt rolled up at the elbows that fit his form fantastically, showed off muscular thighs and an expansive chest ... not to mention the way his shoulders looked flexing under the material.
Yeah, nothing was sexier than a man with a good back—one a woman could really dig her nails in to while he fucked her to oblivion.
Bene checked every box for her.
“Sorry about that,” he said, pocketing the phone, “promise it’s off for the night.”
Vanna laughed. “And if it wasn’t?”
He shrugged. “Kind of has to be—if it rings, I need to answer. At least this way, I can say the fucking thing glitched out, and it couldn’t be helped.”
She arched a brow. “You mean to say a phone call could pull you away from me?”
Bene stepped forward, closing the bit of distance between them in three determined strikes. Already, he’d stopped them three times coming up the block just to kiss her. She was happy to oblige because she found kissing him was almost like foreplay for her. Never had she wanted to kiss a man, as though she could live from nothing more than that alone, like she did with him.
His body flattened against hers, pressing her into the rough brick and making the stone scrape at her skin. Yet, that bite of pain was quickly overcome by his weight on hers, the scent of his cedar and spice cologne, and the way his gaze looked boring into hers.
Like he’d fuck her right there.
And she’d love it.
“Well,” he said quietly, strong hands gliding up her thighs and pushing the fabric of her gray, stretchy pencil skirt higher as they went, “that’s why I’m turning off the phone so no calls come through.”
God.
Her pussy was wet.
Had to be.
Since the restaurant.
Now, though?
Her thong was ruined.
“Someone might see us, you know.”
Bene flashed a sexy grin. “You think?”
“Oh, are you an exhibitionist, or ...?”
“Nah, I am whatever you need me to be, Vanna. That’s the thing—this is all about you, now. Your show. You want me to fuck you slow, make you come ten times, and eat you when I’m done? I’ll do that. Do you want me to fuck you where the neighborhood can watch you scream my name? Let’s go. Or how about I get you into my place, strip you naked, spank your ass until it’s red, and use you like you want me to, huh?”
She swallowed hard.
Bene’s hands went higher.
“Let me know,” he murmured.
His thumb edged along the line of her black lace thong. All the while, he never once looked away from her. Even when she released a quiet gasp as his thumb slipped under the line of her panties, and grazed her hot sex. His lips pulled back in a satisfied smirk when his thumb found her wet. It only deepened to something wicked as her hips jerked into his touch when his thumb went higher to find her clit.
She pulsated against him.
Shuddered when his thumb pressed harder.
Trembled when he chuckled.
His head dipped lower, shrouding her face in darkness while his body covered hers from sight. Anyone passing by in a vehicle, or even walking, would think they were just a couple engaging in a heated PDA. They wouldn’t see that his hand was up her skirt, and he was thumbin
g her clit with enough intensity to make her ready to come.
“What do you need me to be, Vanna?”
Air rushed out of her, just like her words. “Just make me come.”
Bene flashed his teeth in a sinful smirk, thumb circling faster at her clit. “Give it to me, then.”
She did.
Breaking all apart, and barely stifling her moans until his hand left her hip to slip two fingers into her mouth. She sucked on his digits while she came, before he pulled them free and kissed her again.
She hoped he fucked the same way he kissed.
All in, owning her, and hot as hell.
She’d soon find out.
• • •
“You have a twin, huh?”
Bene made a dark noise under his breath as he came to stand behind her in the hallway.
She’d stepped out of the bedroom, fully naked after he’d undressed her and only then realized that he didn’t have any condoms in his room, to look at the pictures hanging on the wall. Sure, she was on the shot, but it didn’t hurt to be extra safe even if she hadn’t slept with someone in a long time ... the last time hadn’t ended well when Mario found out, and she hadn’t been looking for a repeat of that.
She felt him slip in closer, the heat of his naked chest pressing against her when his lips dropped down to find the crook in her shoulder.
He’d quickly realized she liked that.
A kiss there.
A bite.
Sucking.
God, yeah.
It’d make her shout.
“I do,” he said simply.
If he heard the lack of surprise in her voice at her declaration about his brother, he didn’t say. She knew he had a twin from the picture in the newspaper. She knew exactly how many brothers he had—how long his parents had been married. Hell, she knew Bene Guzzi’s birthday, and even his middle name.
Contacts went a long way.
“Is that strange?” she asked.
“Hmm?”
“Having someone who looks just like you? Does he sound the same, too? Act the same?”