KYLE: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 4)

by Glenna Sinclair

  “Really,” he said in a whisper as he leaned in, brushing her ear with his mouth, “who sent you?”

  Curious, she edged back and studied his face. “No one. You have people in your life who would send a woman to you to spend the night?”

  “The people in my life do a lot of things I can’t quite figure out,” he said then started through the lounge.

  After taking a moment to consider the man she’d chosen (he wasn’t typical, that was for sure), Rose caught up and they crossed through the vacant lobby. When they reached the elevator banks, he pressed the call button and glanced at the digital counter over the door.

  “Why are you in Seattle?” she asked.

  “Seattle’s across the bay,” he said, correcting her. “We’re in Bellevue.”

  She angled her eyes up at him as if to say, answer the question.

  He shot her a steely glance. “I thought you said you didn’t want to talk.”

  The door slid open and he stepped inside and pressed the button for the presidential suite on the top floor, as she slipped inside.

  “Maybe I would like to know a few things about you,” she mentioned, as the elevator glided upward at such velocity she felt pressure building in her inner ears.

  “Getting cold feet?” He let out another laugh that made her wonder if he was laughing with her or at her.

  “Hardly.”

  “You seem to know what you want,” he commented without looking at her. “Are you at the mercy of a craving?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Then don’t bite the hand that’s feeding you.”

  She pressed her mouth into a determined smirk, locking her gaze on the floor numbers overhead as they rolled to the final floor.

  When the door opened, he indicated for her to step out before him then quickly passed, making his way up the hallway as he pulled his key card from his wallet.

  The presidential suite was lofty with a living area, full bar, and four-poster bed through an open set of French doors. He placed a “do not disturb” card on the outer door handle, and as soon as he locked the door he stalked towards the bar and began fashioning two cocktails.

  Rose edged into the living area, as he worked. She took notice when he shed his suit jacket and draped it carelessly over the bar, but for the most part she was thinking about her prior conquests.

  There had only been three—a bartender in Cincinnati, a graduate student in Northern Florida, and a marketing manager who worked at a start-up in Silicon Valley. Other than this ritual of bedding a stranger before a high-stakes demonstration, Rose rarely found time to date. She’d had one boyfriend in undergrad and had made no attempts to improve her love life since then. Her work as an environmental advocate wasn’t a job so much as a calling. She’d spent the last five years of her life traveling the country and meeting with communities who feared corporations that had swooped into the area to build pipelines and drill for oil would destroy their homes and cause health hazards. Each endeavor to shut a project down had been more dangerous than the last. And rather than lose sleep over it, worrying her way through the night and showing up exhausted and foggy to the rally she’d organized, this tactic of getting lost in a man had proved highly effective.

  But the man behind the bar wasn’t anything like the others. There was something brooding behind his dark eyes, and it gave her the sense that he needed to get lost in her more than she wanted to get lost in him.

  With drinks in his hands, he rounded the bar, approaching a plush leather couch, where he set the cocktails on the coffee table, stating, “In case you need it.”

  She urged herself to say something clever like, but words didn’t come. Maybe she would need the extra nudge. He seemed powerful, and going through with it, she knew she wouldn’t be able to brush over her budding curiosity about him.

  She turned for the couch, but he stopped her, taking hold of her waist, which sent a thrill rushing down her loins, stirring up heat and desire.

  He gazed down the length of her then wrapped his hands tightly around her waist, as he said, “Do you have any idea the things I’m going to do to you?”

  Truthfully, she didn’t. “You think you’re going to surprise me?”

  He edged his warm hands under her sweater and as he slowly slid his palms up her sides, his smooth skin warming her. She was shocked with the sudden thrill of being touched by a man she knew nothing about.

  “I don’t think you’re half as brave as you pretend to be,” he said, meeting her gaze.

  “Now who’s interested in talking?”

  He smiled and his eyes turned hungry.

  “What if I don’t want to warm you up at all? What if I want to thrust inside you and make you bend and sweat and gasp until you adjust?”

  Her legs went rubbery after hearing that, but she locked her knees, willing herself not to give away the effect he was having on her.

  Her voice was weak as she whispered, “I’m not picky.”

  “Who are you trying to forget?”

  “No one.”

  “What are you trying to deny with this little display?”

  “I’m not denying anything.”

  His hands grazed around to her back, where he found her bra clasp and unfastened it.

  “Then why do I get the feeling this is out of character for you?”

  She couldn’t help but smirk, realizing he was just as curious about her as she was about him.

  “Do you need it to be?” she challenged. “Do you need me to be innocent like this is my first stab at a one-night stand?”

  He frowned, considering the question, then said, “No.”

  Grabbing the hem of her sweater, Rose lifted it up and over her head, her bra straps loosening then sliding down her shoulders. As she let the garment fall to the floor, he cupped her breasts, holding her firmly in both hands, grazing his thumbs over her nipples, and sending tingles of heat rushing through her body.

  Then he leaned in, his lips to her ear as he began massaging her breasts, and said, “Do you come easily?”

  No. She couldn’t say her thoughts out loud. For a man who seemed preoccupied with making sure it would be okay that he used her with little regard for her own pleasure, she was sure that indicating she needed a lot of extra help and attention to arch over the brink would be a turnoff for him.

  “Don’t worry about me,” she said, as he eased back to look at her.

  “All right,” he said. “I won’t.”

  He wrapped his hand around her wavy, brown hair, and angled her chin up as he took his time looking at her nude breasts, the length of her stomach, the swell of her increased breathing, but he didn’t touch her except to pop the top button of her jeans and ease her fly down.

  When his fingers found the lace edge of her panties, she reached for the bulge beneath his slacks. Feeling his hardness and thickness, pressing against the material, made her hot and wet, and she realized she was smiling.

  Releasing her hair, he stepped back and began unbuttoning his dress shirt, keeping his eyes on her. She was fast to his slacks, unbuttoning them and pulling them down, revealing black boxer-briefs that hugged him perfectly. She eyed his bare chest, the definition of his pecs and abs, the thin trail of hair leading below his waistband.

  It was hitting her now, the idea of having a complete stranger thrusting inside her, a man she knew nothing about, and the anticipation was making her ache.

  Quickly, she wrestled her wedge-heels off without bothering to untie the laces, then worked her jeans down, stepping out of them and kicking them aside.

  As soon as she was free of them, she bent for his shoes to help him, but he stopped her, grabbing her by the upper arms and urging her up.

  While he tended to his own shoes, kicking them off and pulling his slacks away, she wondered why he wouldn’t let her do it. It was as though he didn’t want her lowering herself, getting on her knees for him, which seemed to be the opposite of his attitude regarding whether he got her off o
r not.

  Taking one of the drinks in his hand, he sat on the couch and drank slowly, then set the glass on the coffee table.

  He was certainly a gorgeous man, and Rose knew she'd hit the jackpot, physically speaking.

  “Come here,” he said, looking up at her as he rested his head back against the leather couch.

  She rounded the coffee table then straddled him, gradually lowering to his lap and feeling the heat of his bulge pressing against her. He felt so good that she wished the cotton of his briefs and the lace of her panties weren't between them. His erection was thick and long, and as she rested her elbows on his shoulders, her hands draping the back of the couch, she couldn’t help but slightly rock her hips to work off the ache that had been building.

  He groaned and his cool breath rushed over her hot skin, causing her nipples to harden, but he didn’t touch her at all.

  “Pull me out,” he whispered.

  She sat back, hooked her fingers under his waistband, and pulled the cotton back, watching his cock spring free. The length of him arched up his abdomen, and the sight made her ache all over again. Once she worked his boxer-briefs down his thighs, she wrapped her hand around him. He was so hot and hard, his shaft smooth as silk. She was dying to feel him inside her.

  “Do you have protection?” she asked quietly.

  “Yeah.” He motioned for her to hop off, but she quickly pinned his shoulders back to the couch, which made him smile.

  “I’ll get it.”

  “In my wallet,” he said. “In my pants.”

  She padded around the coffee table and found his wallet, then the condom. As she tore the wrapper off, he said, “Lose your panties.”

  With her free hand she did, stepping out of the black lace and returning to him.

  He took the condom from her, and the sight of him handling his erection and rolling the rubber down was unbelievably sexy. When she kneeled on the couch, straddling him, he flexed for her and cupped her breasts.

  “You are big,” she said, lowering down until she could feel his hard head against the slippery curve between her legs.

  He squeezed her nipples to get her attention and she gasped as her eyes snapped up to his.

  “Look at me,” he ordered, though in a gentle voice.

  She kept her gaze locked with his as she lowered, his erection pushing inside her, her body expanding to his girth, a rush of hot tingles dancing inside her and across her skin. He felt so good filling her, and she panted, sweating and gasping, until she rested flush against his lap, the length of him settling deep inside.

  “Oh God,” he groaned. “You’re so tight.”

  “Touch me,” she whispered, her arms draped around his shoulders.

  But he wouldn’t.

  “You don’t want to hold me?” she asked. She was rocking, hips thrusting slightly to work the sweetest friction inside.

  He laughed, low and breathy.

  “Fuck me how you like,” he said. “Then it’s my turn.”

  She eased back, looking at his face, as he throbbed inside her.

  She plowed her fingers through his hair, holding his head, then began thrusting, edging back then making him fill her again and again, as he groaned.

  “What will you do when it’s your turn?” she asked breathlessly, as the heat built inside her.

  “You’ll see.”

  “Touch my clit.”

  He smiled. “You’re one of those?”

  “So what?”

  Finally, he took hold of her ass, squeezing gently and controlling her rhythm so that it was smooth and slow. She moaned, melting into his command and letting her thighs relax. He was strong and held her up easily, working her back and forth as his dick slid in and out, stirring up the most incredible friction.

  “You’ve never come just from a guy’s dick?” he asked.

  “Does it matter?” she said on a long breath.

  “Do you want to?”

  She smiled. “Oh you think you’re going to open up my world?”

  “I think I can find the angle.” He shifted, lowering into the couch and pitching his hips up, as he held her flush to his lap, his erection angled deep inside. The position set his pubic bone hard against her clit, causing an electric burst in her sensitive spot, and Rose immediately moaned, nearly collapsing onto his chest.

  “Oh, right there,” she said, as he helped her to grind into him.

  He let out another breathy laugh, saying, “I know.”

  She felt the hard curve of his pubic bone pressing into her clit. His thick erection, the pressure of its head shifting deep inside her, was causing a slow build, burning hot, to surge within.

  “Oh my God, you’re bringing me there,” she cried out.

  “Are you going to come for me, Rose?”

  “Yes.”

  “How many times?”

  She shook her head, meaning to say that she didn’t know, but she couldn’t get the words out.

  “Oh, right there,” she managed to say when he grabbed her waist, holding her down and thrusting, as he rocked her into a grinding massage that hit her clit with the perfect amount of pressure. “I’m coming.”

  “Tell me when and I’ll come, too.”

  “It’s building,” she moaned as a fresh wave of tingles rushed through her, the precursor to the swell of climaxing. Then her body clenched around him, fluttering into an orgasm. Reflexes took hold and she arched her back, crying out and riding wave after wave.

  “Damn, I can feel you,” he said, then his breath hitched in his throat and a long, sexy groan escaped him.

  She realized he was wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. She could feel his heart pound in his chest and his erection throb deep inside her, as they rode the final swell of their orgasm.

  She could smell the sweat on his hairline and found herself pressing her lips against it. Whoever he was, this had been nothing like her previous encounters, and she felt strangely bonded to him. She didn’t want to let him go. Lifting back, she looked at him.

  “Oh no,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I know that look.”

  “What look?”

  He was smiling, but at the same time his eyes were pushing her away.

  “The look where you think this was special.”

  “I don’t think that.”

  “And you think you won’t be able to do this with anyone else, so you think you need me.”

  It had occurred to her she might not be able to get quite the same effect with anyone else, only because she hadn’t before meeting him, but she wasn’t going to admit that.

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, easing back, but he didn’t let her go.

  “It’s just angles,” he said, but she rolled her eyes. “And it’s my shape, but I’ll show you a thing or two before you go off on your way.”

  “Oh, will you?” she said sarcastically. “Lucky me.”

  “No,” he said, turning serious. “I’m the lucky one.”

  “You are,” she said skeptically. “And why’s that?”

  “Because I’m going to take you into the bedroom and have my way with you all night.”

  She had to admit she liked the sound of that, but he’d touched upon a very real danger. She did have a look on her face that screamed she wouldn’t want this to be only one night. And she did think she might not have an encounter like this with another man. It gave him way too much power. She was too busy to need anyone. She couldn’t afford to waste her thoughts and energy on a guy who was supposed to be nothing more than her way of not tossing and turning all night.

  The fact of the matter was that she’d gotten what she came here for, and she didn’t need anything else from him.

  Realizing that, she stood and began collecting her clothes, as he stared at her in subdued confusion.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

  He didn’t object or stop her, but when she pulled her sweater over her he
ad as the last article of clothing before heading to the door, he caught her wrist.

  “One last thing,” he said softly.

  “What?”

  He pulled her in, holding the nape of her neck and the small of her back, and brushed his lips against hers, then pressed them into a firm kiss. She’d fantasized about his lips during the long twenty minutes she’d sat watching him from across the bar, but none of her daydreams compared to the reality. He felt smooth and warm and sure of himself, and the way his skin smelled, the way his scruff felt against her chin and cheek, had her second-guessing her plan to leave.

  Their kiss slowed, and she got the feeling he was drinking her in. Then he eased off and said, “Good-bye.”

  She smirked, wondering if she would regret this, but simply said “bye” and slipped out the door.

  Chapter Two

  The construction site was an ugly tangle of cranes and bulldozers, cylinder pipes and scattered materials, all along a ten-mile trench where construction workers barked at each other over the growl of their idling machines.

  Rose spied the corporate executive trailer through her binoculars. She could see shadowy figures through the drawn blinds and not much else, so she scanned the trench, surveying the progress that the Starlight Energy Project had made. It never failed to boggle her mind how quickly projects like this could get underway. In less than two weeks, Starlight had dug the trench where the pipeline would be assembled then buried over. According to their timeline, the pipe would be laid and gas would be flowing in less than three weeks if she didn’t shut them down.

  The sun was creeping up the horizon as she lowered her binoculars and turned to face her team, a twelve-person environmental group called One World, which she had founded the year after graduating college.

  “We should’ve gotten here sooner,” said Carter, who was staring at her with round eyes and folded arms from where he stood in front of the team.

  “Before they dug the trench?” she asked.

  “Before the sun rose this morning,” he clarified. “We can’t get into position now. Construction workers are swarming the area.”

  Carter indicated for the binoculars, and she handed them over, watching him as he spied the enemy. A tall black man whose muscular stature and booming voice could intimidate the most callous corporate executive, Carter had gone to the same college as Rose. They’d constantly fought, debating their ethics on how to achieve clean energy. He’d been a constant source of aggravation during those four years, but when they graduated and Rose was garnishing members for One World, approaching Carter had been a no-brainer. He was damned good at getting things done and undeniably fearless.