She stopped walking and shot him a questioning glance.
He responded innocently, “What?”
“Are you coming up?”
Gianni huffed as if Natasha was getting on his nerves. “Natasha, I do not intend on sleeping apart from you. Not as long as you are my wife.”
Natasha’s face flushed with anxiety. As it did, Gianni brushed her face. “Baby, please relax. We’ll be perfect if you just relax.” His voice was soft and reassuring, and she was more relaxed.
They went into the building and inside of her condo. The driver deposited her luggage into the living room and disappeared out of the front door. But, he returned. This time he was toting Gianni’s luggage. Natasha turned to Gianni, but before she could protest, Gianni said, “You can always move into my place.”
Natasha shook her head. “I’m not moving into that dungeon.”
“Dungeon?”
“Yes, dungeon. That penthouse of yours is super gothic.”
“Okay. We’ll stay in your matchbox until you finish redecorating the penthouse.”
He offered.
“Okay,” she answered hesitantly.
He reiterated to gain more hope, “Okay?”
“Yes. Okay.”
“See, Bella? We have solved our first marital issue,” he said with a boyish grin.
“Yes. It seems that we have.”
Natasha grabbed her overnight bag and walked down the hall, into her bedroom. She walked into the attached bath and dropped the bag on the vanity. She figured that since her condo wasn’t as enormous as his penthouse, she didn’t need to show him around. She turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature. She had
stripped out of her clothes and bent over to put them in a pile. She looked up at the mirror, and Gianni appeared. He was standing behind her, leaning against the door jam. His smirk was sexy, and his scent filled the room.
“If I can get this view every night, I’m going to love being married to you,” he said with a seductive slur.
Gianni had an alluring drawl that was all his own, and Natasha’s body reacted every time he spoke. She was tempted to climb his big body, but, instead, she stepped in the shower. As the hot water trickled down her skin, she thought back to her first date with Gianni. She wondered how a man that couldn’t even bear to spend the night with her be okay with being married to her.
She lathered and tried to imagine why, drunk or not, she’d ask Gianni to marry her. But, before she could come up with an answer, her new husband stepped into the shower behind her. He kissed the back of her head and asked, “Do you have to go to work tomorrow?”
Natasha nodded.
“Yeah, I’m working days tomorrow. Gotta be there at six in the morning.”
Gianni became quiet, seemingly contemplating his next question. His hands began to explore Natasha’s wet naked body. But his touch was not necessarily sexual. He hands roamed her shoulders and down her arm. He reached through and slid his hand over her flat stomach. When he pulled her close to his hard body, Natasha head fell back against his chest. He kissed the top of her head.
“Natasha, you don’t seem to spend any of your money... Why?”
“My money derived from the blood of my parents,” Natasha whispered.
Gianni enclosed her in his arms and held her tight.
“What do you mean?”
“My parents were killed in a car accident. The driver that hit them was drunk. He was the son of a billionaire oil tycoon that was known to contribute heavily to the political campaigns of every governor in Illinois for more than twenty years. Needless to say, the accident was covered up, and I was paid off. And since I was a minor, it went into a trust that I couldn’t touch until I was eighteen. But somehow, it still feels like blood money.”
“But, you’ve donated tons to charities. You’ve used the money to help people in need. Your parents would be proud.”
Natasha sighed and turned in Gianni’s arms. She stood on her toes and kissed his chin.
“I hope so,” she said in a whisper.
“I’m positive. We’ve been married for the better part of two days, and trust me, there isn’t a man walking this earth that’s more proud of his wife.”
Gianni’s words were like a bandage for Natasha’s heart. She often wondered what her parents would think of the woman that she’d become. She had dedicated her life to the service of others. She joined the police department, not only to rid the streets of drugs, but to help people in need. She wrapped her arms around Gianni’s waist and held on tight. Tears fell from her eyes, but not from sadness. Somehow Gianni had given her something that years of therapy hadn’t given her; confirmation that her parents would be pleased with her.
Gianni walked her backward until she was directly under the spray of the shower. Natasha released his waist and pushed him back. She moved from under the shower head and wiped the water from her face. Natasha smacked Gianni on the shoulder.
“Are you crazy?!” She yelped. “Don’t you know that you are never put a black woman’s head under water?!”
Gianni raised his hands defensively. Judging by the confused look on his face, it was evident to Natasha that he had never been with a black woman before.
“You’ve never been with a black woman before, have you?”
“Not in water,” he chuckled, lowering his hands.
Natasha laughed and turned into the water. When she was sure that she’d washed all of the soap from her skin, she stepped out of the shower. After drying off, she wrapped herself in the towel and tucked the end. She opened the linen closet and pulled out a towel for Gianni. She left it on the vanity and walked into her bedroom. She sat on the bed and performed her nightly routine of applying moisturizer and realized that her routines were, most certainly, about to change. She went to her dresser and fished out a pair of pajamas. She dressed for bed and walked over to the mirror to assess the damage to her hair. Natasha decided against tying her hair down, her natural curls would have to do.
Natasha could hear the water shut off in the bathroom. A few seconds later, Gianni emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist. His dark hair was slicked back, revealing more of his handsomely rugged features. His green eyes sparkled from across the room. Natasha couldn’t look away if her life depended on it. Her eyes roamed down his solid chest, his chiseled abs, and followed the trail of dark hair that dipped into a towel that barely contained the bulge between his legs. Natasha gasped for air. The man was literally breathtaking.
Knowing that she was openly gawking at him, she reluctantly looked at his face.
He smirked, knowingly. “Okay... I have no problem admitting it. You, Gianni Storm, are a beautiful man.”
“Again with the beautiful,” he said, bunching his eyebrows. “Why am I not a good looking man? Or handsome? Or maybe even attractive?”
“Gianni, the way you look is beyond those descriptions. It’s like the ocean. It’s not good looking, or handsome, or even attractive. The only word that describes it is... Beautiful.”
Gianni seemed surprised by her revelation. He walked across the room and kissed Natasha’s forehead.
“Thank you. But, you’re the beautiful one,” he whispered, humbly.
He crouched down to give her a quick peck on her lips and walked around the bed. Gianni dropped his towel, revealing his flawless manhood. Natasha stared, without shame, until he pulled the covers back and climbed into bed. Natasha walked over to join him.
“Freeze!”
Natasha jumped, startled by his tone.
“If this marriage is to work, you coming to bed wearing clothing made of a blanket, is not an option,” Gianni admonished.
Natasha looked down and her flannel pajamas and realized that Gianni was right. Nothing about them said sexy.
Gianni demanded, “Take it off.”
Natasha acquiesced. She stripped out of the “blanket” and stood, nude, in front of Gianni.
“Grazie. La mia molto bella moglie.”
> Natasha’s hands flew to her hips, and she gave Gianni the squinty eye. “Translate!”
“I said, thank you, my very beautiful wife. Now... Come to bed.”
.
CHAPTER 29
VICTORIA
Victoria gathered a handful of manila folders from her desk and tucked them under her arm, in preparation for her first office meeting. Since John was still the Director of Security, she didn’t have to attend last Friday’s meeting. But now, she was on her own.
When she was working for the police department, Monday was the worst day of the week. But at Storm Enterprises, Friday was the doomsday. It was the day that all of the department heads had to explain exactly what they’ve done all week. The way John described it, they were basically trying to convince Jack that they deserved another week of employment.
Victoria hurried down the hall, running into Amy along the way. She was fumbling through her own handful of files.
“Hey, sweetie,” Amy said sweetly, but Victoria noticed the nervous tension in her voice.
Amy’s skittish behavior did nothing for Victoria’s anxiety. If his baby sister was nervous, then being his wife probably wouldn’t evoke any special treatment.
“Hey. So how bad are these meeting?”
Amy gave Victoria the “you’ll see” look, offering absolutely no reassurance. Victoria decided to let it go and see for herself.
She and Amy walked into a conference room that was occupied by chattering bosses. But almost all of the chattering stopped when they entered. Victoria couldn’t tell if it was due to the presence of the wife or the sister of Jackson Storm. She timidly looked around the room that was filled with rich people, adorning expensive suits and apprehensive expressions.
With her chin, Amy directed Victoria to an empty seat. She walked across the boardroom, this time, very aware that the glares of uncertainty were meant for the wife. Victoria, not being the type to allow anyone to intimidate her, held her head high and took her seat.
She greeted everyone with a smile that was only returned by some. Before Victoria could get off a good eye roll, Jack walked in. The conference room became so eerily quiet that the only thing that Victoria could hear was her breathing and Jack’s footsteps.
Jack strolled, confidently, to the head of the conference table and took his seat. His presence had intimidated everyone in the room, even Amy. And, despite the fact that she woke up with his face buried between her legs, she found herself intimidated along with the rest of them.
“Let’s get started.” Jack asked, wasting no time with pleasantries. “Aaron, explain to me why you bury millions of dollars in the IT department but yet no one could get online for two hours Wednesday.”
Victoria listened to Aaron fumble through an answer that wasn’t good enough for Jack. When he was done tearing Aaron a new one, he made his way around the room. He praised some while annihilated others. Now, it was Amy’s turn at bat, and Victoria was eager to see how he interacted with family. Jack asked tough questions about the acquisition of a marketing firm, and in return, Amy tendered clear and concise answers that seemed to please him.
“Victoria...”
Oh fuck.
“I got a memo stating that you revised the disciplinary policy for your department. Tell me why the current disciplinary policy of Storm Enterprises isn’t good enough for your department?”
Victoria would have winced at his harsh tone had it not been for all of the people in the room waiting for her to choke.
“Well, since the employees in my department are the only ones who work overnight shifts, the current disciplinary policies are ineffective.”
“Elaborate,” he demanded without looking up from the memo in his hand.
“Storm Tower is a global economic hub as well as an architectural icon in Chicago, which seriously increases the probability of terrorist attacks...” Victoria paused, looking around the room for an example. “I don’t believe that Chuck from personnel has to worry about his team falling asleep on the job; therefore, allowing some right–wing terrorist to walk past him and tuck a backpack, filled with explosives, into a building that could greatly influence the stock market.”
Jack looked up, suddenly giving Victoria his full attention. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.
“Tell me about one of your changes.”
“I’m implementing...” She paused remembering that she wasn’t the boss. “... I’d like to implement a three strike policy.”
“Okay, President Clinton,” he chuckled, and of course everyone in the room laughed as if he was fucking Kevin Hart.
Whereas he was tough, but polite to the other department heads, he was close to being rude to her. Victoria smiled, but inside she was deciding that Jack had just fucked up his blow–job for the night.
“Victoria, I’m looking at a request that you sent to personnel for ten new hires. Why?”
He leaned back in his chair and watched her intently as she prepared to answer. Jack was trying to intimidate her. If they were alone, she would’ve “Sharon Stoned” his ass, but flashing her pussy wouldn’t have gone well in a room full of people, so she decided to answer his question.
“I’d like to hire ten off–duty police officers.”
Jack shook his head. “No. We’ve been down that road. Off–duty cops cost too much. We would have to pay them more than double what we pay security guards.”
“You get what you pay for.”
Victoria could tell that Jack wasn’t happy with her answer, so she elaborated before he could order her to.
“If you hire ten officers to work split shifts, midnights and days, you’ll basically have two officers for the price of one. My request will allow you to have a cop present during your most vulnerable shifts.”
“Why is that necessary?”
“Sworn police officers offer a service that security guards don’t. They have the power to make arrests. Not to mention, none of the guards at the main entrance are armed. If an armed assailant enters the building and starts shooting, are the guards gonna throw their flashlights at him?”
Victoria knew that she was being flippant, but Jack and his questions were getting on her nerves. He looked up from the paper in his hand and shot her a look of warning. Victoria looked down at her notes, praying that he would move on to the next person.
“That’s not a bad idea,” he said after a few seconds of silence. “Good job, Victoria.”
Jack moved on to Chuck, and Victoria suppressed a sigh of relief. She looked over at her sister–in–law’s smiling face. Amy winked and mouthed, “Good job.”
Victoria smiled in return and turned back to the meeting.
As Jack drilled Chuck about personnel issues, Victoria found herself staring at him. He sat at the head of the table and commanded the room. Victoria couldn’t help but to find herself aroused. She stared intently at his lips as the bass of his voice vibrated through her entire body. Victoria’s sex clinched involuntarily, and she could feel an instant rush of heat between her thighs.
She was so preoccupied with lustful admiration for her husband that she didn’t even notice that the meeting was over. The hustle and bustle of the group getting out of their chairs snapped her out of her daze. Victoria stood and gathered her files. In her peripheral, she could see Jack’s approach. She looked up, into his bright blue eyes and wondered if he could read her dirty thoughts. He smiled and pulled her into his chest. And since some of the department heads were still lingering in the conference room, Victoria was shocked by his display of affection in the workplace. But shocked or not, she happily melted in his arms.
Jack leaned in for a kiss, and Victoria crooned her neck to meet him halfway. After a sweet and tender kiss, Jack whispered, “Great job, Storm. You make me proud.”
Victoria was touched by his praise. She wanted nothing more than to do a good job and to make Jack proud.
She asked smiling, “Really?”
“Really. Way to hold your own,” he co
nfirmed.
“Thank you.”
Jack nodded and kissed her again.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against her lips, before slowly stepping back. “Oh, Victoria, if you ever sass me like that in a meeting again, I’m going to bend you over my desk and spank you.”
Victoria watched as Jack left the room, envisioning the erotic pleasure that she could get from being bent over his desk.
NATASHA
Natasha hopped out of her covert car and grabbed her duffle bag from the backseat. She slammed the door and looked around, knowing that her team was close by. It was Friday night, and Tammy had invited her to work a lockdown, guaranteeing deep-pocketed patrons. She said the “big boss” would be present, along with Chicago’s biggest pimps. The event was dubbed, “The Pimp’s Gala.” Dozens of women from all over the Midwest were coming out, just for the privilege of dancing for infamous bottom feeders.
“Hey, Hot Mama!”
Natasha recognized Tammy’s voice coming from across the street.
Natasha waved as Tammy made her way over to her and gave her a warm, friendly hug. She was even prettier than the last time Natasha saw her. They’d only worked a couple of lockdowns together, but they talked on the phone at least three times a week. Sadly, even though everything she told Tammy was a lie, Natasha really enjoyed their conversations.
Natasha learned that Tammy was a single mother to a five-year-old son and struggling to keep a roof over their heads. Natasha wished that she didn’t have to use Tammy, but, unfortunately, she was her only way in. Tonight was to be an important bust. Getting all of the pimps in one room only happened once a year. Not to mention, the man behind the lockdowns will be present, and Tammy could identify him.
Beautiful Prey 2: The Storm Series (BWWM Romance) Page 18