Speak Easy

by Melanie Harlow

  “I want you to fuck me,” I rasped, clutching his biceps and straining up against him. “Now.”

  He kissed me hard before rolling to the edge of the bed and grabbing his coat off the floor. Taking a small box from the inside pocket, he opened it up and pulled out a condom. When he was finished putting it on, he rolled back to me, and I slipped beneath him, spreading my knees wide. He reached down to position himself between my legs, and I gasped at his entrance. Leaning on his elbows, he pushed in slowly, giving me time to relax into the way he stretched and filled me. My hands flattened on his back and glided down over taut muscle. Our eyes met, and I nearly lost control right then.

  “Oh my God,” he whispered. “It’s even better than I remembered. You feel so fucking good.”

  I pulled at him, wanting more despite the quick stabbing pains I felt as he began thrusting deeper. My skin was on fire, and his back grew slick with sweat. He propped himself up on his hands near my shoulders, increasing the pressure where our bodies joined together and pushing me closer to oblivion. I looked at his gorgeous face above me. He’s so goddamn beautiful. How can any man be that beautiful? How can I ever possess him as fully as I desire him?

  Suddenly I wanted more control.

  “Turn over.” He didn’t fight me when I pushed against his chest, and somehow I got him onto his back and straddled him. He groaned as I sank all the way down, his long, hard cock gliding so deep it hurt. I adjusted my angle to feel the pressure where I wanted it and take in as much of him as I could.

  He dug his fingers into my thighs. I clenched my muscles around him and rocked forward and back, placing my hands on his hard, hot stomach. “Fucking unbelievable,” he growled, eyes closed.

  “Yes,” I whispered, undulating my hips faster. Colors swirled behind my closed eyelids.

  Yes, yes, yes…

  Suddenly he grabbed my hips and held me still, his jaw thrust forward. “You’re seriously testing my self-control here, sweetheart. If you want this to go on any longer—”

  I widened my eyes. “Sweetheart?”

  One side of his mouth hooked up. “Fair warning. If you don’t stop moving that way...”

  Flashing a wicked grin, I swiveled my hips. I felt him pulse once inside me.

  “That’s it.” His stomach muscles flexed beneath my palms as he sat up and flipped me onto my back, our heads toward the foot of the bed. “Now listen to me,” he said, thrusting into me again and again, harder and deeper every time. “You’re going to come for me, now. You’re going to scream.”

  “Yes!” I cried, not caring whether I was in control or not. In fact, the complete abandon was pure bliss. Clawing his back, I rocked my hips to match his rhythm. We were all frantic push and racing breath as we climbed toward ecstasy, and then time slowed as everything in my body tightened. “Yes,” I moaned. “Yes, yes!”

  He came first, momentarily paralyzed as he thickened and throbbed, and I pulled him into me and writhed against him, crying out again and again as the orgasm crashed through my body and lingered in delicious little waves.

  He collapsed onto my chest, and we stayed that way for a moment, each of us gasping for air.

  “Oh my God.” I blinked. Repeated myself.

  After a moment, he propped himself up on his hands and looked down at me. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Smiling, he lifted himself off me. “Good.”

  I rolled to the edge of the bed, scooped up my chemise, and pulled it on. Dazed, I stumbled to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I turned on the light and looked in the mirror.

  Jesus, is that me? I had bruises on my face and tangles in my hair. My cheeks were flushed and my lips were swollen. But I liked the way my eyes looked—knowing and satisfied, as if I was in on a secret. I couldn’t help the smile that inched onto my face. Yes. I look like a woman who’s been to bed with the sheik.

  The problem was, now that I knew the feverish thrill of it, I wanted to do it again. Right now.

  No.

  My last shred of sense took over. This had to be a one-time-only experience. The smile slid off my face. I used the bathroom and cleaned up, my mood souring.

  When I opened the door, Enzo was lounging in his underwear on the bed, smoking a cigarette. He’d lit one for me as well, and handed it to me wordlessly.

  We smoked in silence for a few minutes, watching each other through the drifting haze. “I wish I’d brought some whisky up here,” he said. “I could use a drink.”

  “Me too.” I dragged deep and hard on the cigarette, searing my lungs. “Although I’m not sure my body can take any more sin tonight.”

  He cocked a brow. “Let’s find out.”

  “No. We can’t do that again.”

  “Why not? Didn’t you enjoy it?” He tilted his head. “Looked like you did. Sounded like you did.” He leaned toward me. “Felt like you did.”

  Heat rushed my extremities. “That’s not the point.” I put out my cigarette in the ashtray he’d set on the bed and leaned back against the headboard, my legs crossed. And they’re going to stay crossed. “You’re engaged to be married. I don’t want to be some little toy on the side you take out and play with whenever you feel like it.”

  “We can play whenever you feel like it too.”

  “No. I’ll help you get your money back from Sam the Barber—as long as my friend doesn’t get hurt—but that’s all.” I spoke with finality and hoped I sounded more sure than I felt. And why didn’t he get dressed again? His bare skin was tying my stomach in knots.

  He put out his cigarette and moved the ashtray to the dresser. “I think you’re overestimating your willpower.” Returning to the bed, he put his hand on my knee and ran it up my thigh. “And I know you’re overestimating mine.”

  God, he was unfairly handsome. He lowered his lips to my shoulder as his fingers crept between my legs, nudging them apart. His other hand brushed the strap of my chemise aside and pulled it down, exposing a breast. I knew before he even put his mouth on it I was lost. Closing my eyes, I let the languorous hum take over my body. “This is a bad idea.”

  “Why? I think we could be good for each other. We just have to keep it a secret. Our very own…” He licked my nipple with one warm stroke. “Dirty little…” He blew cool air across it, and I shivered. “Secret.” He took it between his teeth and bit down.

  I gasped in pain, but also with the shock of pleasure it brought me. He picked his head up, a fiendish smile on his lips. “Want to bite me back?”

  Instead of answering, I got to my knees, pushed him back against the headboard and yanked his underwear down. Without breaking eye contact, I crawled up his body, one leg on either side of him, until my knees bracketed his hips. After tearing off my chemise, I licked my fingers, reached down and touched myself. His mouth fell open.

  Slick with desire, I slid down the rigid length of his cock, smiling when he sucked in his breath.

  “Don’t come,” I ordered, delirious with the power I had over my own pleasure—and his. At his strangled groan, I dug my nails into his shoulders. “I mean it.”

  “You—are—a wicked little girl.” He struggled to get the words out, his dark eyes shooting angry fire. This was way too dangerous, and I knew it.

  But I didn’t care.

  And I wasn’t a little girl.

  “Put your hands on me,” I said.

  He did as he was told, running his hands up my legs, then over my stomach and breasts. I rotated my hips, and he moved his hands back to my thighs, digging his fingers into my skin. “Easy,” he begged.

  So I did it again. This time he put a hand to my throat, his eyes warning me not to push him.

  I did it a third time, and his fingers snaked up the back of my neck and fisted in my hair. We stared at each other, breathing hard and trying not to erupt with the madness boiling beneath our skin.

  “Pull it,” I demanded. As I began rocking my hips, his fingers tightened at the back of my skull.
The faster I moved, the louder I sighed, the harder he pulled. Sharp needles of pain pricked my scalp, the perfect contrast to the unbearable pleasure that exploded in me at the very same moment.

  I knew right then that I couldn’t stay away from him, no matter what the consequences.

  And I knew there would be consequences.

  Chapter Twenty

  When I woke the next morning, Enzo was gone, but I could smell him on my skin. Bringing an arm to my face, I inhaled, and the scent put a smile on my lips and a flutter in my belly. I got out of bed and stretched, discovering I was sore—not only in the expected places, but in my stomach and leg muscles too. I located my underwear and chemise on the floor and pulled them on, wondering what time it was. Actually I wasn’t even sure what day it was.

  In the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror and experienced the same giddy rush I had last night. The eyelet of my chemise was torn at one shoulder, but I had no idea when that had happened. My night with Enzo could be called a lot of things—fiery, explosive, passionate, shocking—but sweet and tender?

  Nope.

  I was surprised the thing wasn’t shredded completely.

  Examining my reflection closer, I touched the bruise at my temple. It reminded me of Joey’s injury, and I swallowed hard, guilt slamming me like a fist in the gut. I had to deceive him into providing me with information for Enzo, and Joey didn’t deserve deception. I owed him Daddy’s life, and probably mine too. Squeezing my eyes shut, I exhaled slowly. Don’t think about that now. Figure out how you’re going to get your clothes from the next room and get out of here.

  I went back into the bedroom and noticed an envelope had been slid under the door. When I picked it up, I shivered. It was identical to the one Enzo had handed me at the store last Friday afternoon. I tore it open.

  Dear Tiny,

  Your things will be delivered shortly by a maid. Your father is expected at one o’ clock today, after which you will be free to go and my driver will take you home. We should not be seen together in public, although I do look forward to seeing you again. You are mouthy and demanding, and your temper rivals Vesuvius, but so does your passion.

  Until then,

  Enzo

  While I fumed at his backward compliment and the fact that I was still being held here against my will, I looked for something to cover up with. What would the maid think if I answered the door in a ripped chemise? I was thinking of wrapping myself in the sheet when I saw Enzo’s gray coat on the dresser. I shrugged into it, the sleeves hanging far below my hands, and the length sufficient to cover me nearly to the knee. Tightening it around me, I buried my nose in the collar and breathed him in. The sexy smoke-and-tobacco scent made me dizzy.

  But my anger still simmered. Why should he be the one deciding when I could leave? And what did he mean, in public? That my company was welcome for a romp in his bed but not for a drink at his club? Go to hell, Enzo.

  A knock sounded on the door and I heard it being unlocked, but no one entered. The knock sounded again. I rolled my eyes—this prisoner/guest business was wearing on my nerves. I opened the door and the same maid from yesterday brought in my dress and shoes, along with towels and toiletries. She laid everything on the bed and left without saying a word, for which I was grateful. Although she didn’t make direct eye contact, she had to have noticed I wore nothing but a man’s coat.

  Banishing that thought, I washed up, brushed my teeth, and dressed. I wished I had a comb or even a hat, but I did the best I could with a little water and my fingers. When I was finished, I returned to the bed and sat. How long would I have to wait here? Drumming my fingers on the spread, I stewed that even after last night, Enzo still wouldn’t allow me to go. Was this any better than having a father who controlled my every move? On a whim, I tried the door, but it was locked from the outside.

  Grimacing, I moved to the window. My car is still down there somewhere, I realized, although my keys were long gone. Harry had taken the money from my purse Thursday night, but who knew what he’d done with the rest of its contents? I shivered, recalling Harry’s death in the cabin—I’d seen some surprisingly gruesome things in nursing school, but nothing so immediate in its violence. And Raymond—what would he do now? He’d be furious with me and with Enzo, looking to get revenge. Would his father be able to rein him in? I turned from the window just as Enzo unlocked and opened the door.

  Despite my anger, the sight of him still wound me up—had he gotten better looking overnight? His hair was perfectly coiffed, his collar tight, the bruise on his cheek not dark enough to mar his handsome face. “You know, you could knock,” I snapped.

  A smile tipped his lips as he closed the door behind him. “You’re not happy to see me?”

  I crossed my arms. “What are you doing here? I thought you were sending your driver for me, so we wouldn’t be seen together in public.”

  He came toward me, detangled my arms and slipped his around my waist. “I couldn’t stay away.” His lips pressed to mine, setting my heart pounding, but I didn’t open my mouth. How badly I wanted to give in and fall back into bed with him, but this wasn’t the pattern I wanted to set. Our affair had to be secret, but he didn’t get to make all the rules, deciding how and when we could see each other.

  I pulled back. “I’d like to go home now, Enzo. I haven’t been there since Thursday night. I need to let my sisters know it’s safe to return, and I want a bath and some new clothes.” Tilting my head, I added, “Or am I being too mouthy and demanding?”

  He put his face in my neck and kissed my throat. “Mmmmm. You smell good. But a bath could be arranged.”

  I twisted out of his embrace. “No. Not here.”

  “Why not?”

  Gesturing toward him, I said, “I see you’ve managed to get cleaned up—I don’t even have a comb, let alone clean clothes.” I pulled my navy dress from my body. “You do realize I was wearing this the night Harry kidnapped me. Is it too much to ask that I be allowed to change out of it?

  He smiled. “I’ll help you out of it.”

  I sighed and shut my eyes, my shoulders slumping. “You’re impossible.”

  “For God’s sake, Tiny, you’re more fun when you’re mad at me.”

  My eyes snapped open and my voice took on a hard edge. “You want me to get mad? Now there’s something that could be arranged.”

  “Ah. There she is.” He straightened his coat. “I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait. I can’t let you leave until your father arrives and some kind of agreement is reached, or my father will have my head.” He was so cool about it, as if last night hadn’t happened at all.

  “You once said our fathers’ business had nothing to do with us.”

  “Yes. I believe that was before you sold Sam Scarfone the hearses which he then used to hijack a very large, very pricey, shipment of mine.”

  “I told you, I didn’t know what he was—”

  “Shhh.” He reached for me again. Wrapping one arm around my back, he brushed my tangled hair back from my face. “Things are what they are between us, Tiny,” he whispered, digging his fingers into my waist. “But let’s not tarnish them with more lies.”

  My lower lip quivered. His eyes were black as night and his expression was tight—whether he was controlling his rage or his passion, I couldn’t tell. I said nothing as he traced my lips with one finger.

  “I believe this affair could be mutually beneficial,” he went on, “but in order for that to happen, you and I are going to have to trust each other a little bit. Don’t you agree?”

  “Yes.” My voice cracked on the word.

  “So tell me the truth.” The arm around me tightened further, bowing my back. “Did you know Scarfone was planning the heist?” He rubbed one finger back and forth across my lower lip.

  Suddenly I was tired of lying about what I’d done. There hadn’t been a choice. I looked him in the eye and lifted my chin. “I did what I had to do to protect my family.”

  His brow twitc
hed, as if he were surprised I had admitted it. “Yes, you did. I like that about you.” His finger slipped inside my mouth, and without thinking I ran the tip of my tongue across it. He smiled. “You have a talent for deception, Tiny. And I’m glad, because you’re going to need it. This is only the beginning.”

  He removed his finger and put his lips on mine again, more insistent this time, his tongue slashing into my mouth. Despite my earlier decision not to give in, I craved the pleasure and pain our bodies could bring to one another, and I wanted the powerful abandon I felt making him lose control. When the kiss grew reckless, I struggled to get my arms free and reached for the buttons on his coat.

  He shocked me by grabbing my shoulders and setting me at arm’s length from him.

  “What?”

  After a moment, he said, “You can go.”

  “Huh?”

  “You can go home.” He lowered his arms and adjusted his collar. “I’ll have my driver come for you in ten minutes.”

  I stuck my hands on my hips, tempted to slap him again. “I hate your games.”

  He pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “How much do you owe him?”

  “Who?”

  “Your friend. Lupo. How much did he give you to pay my father off?”

  My jaw tightened. Something about this scene was too familiar. “None of your business.”

  “Goddammit, Tiny.” He pointed a finger at me. “You’re not to owe him anything—not money, not information, not favors. This is part of our deal, now tell me what he gave you.”

  I had to think about it, Joey had given me so much. “Fifty-six hundred.”

  “Fine.” He counted some bills in his wallet—five one-thousand dollar bills and six hundreds—then held them out.

  I looked down at the money in his hand. “Why are you doing this? You think you can buy me?” Straightening my shoulders, I stood a little taller. “I’m not for sale.”