“Why?”
I pull away from him and study his swollen face, and I think about how I really never had a goddamn clue about the lives the members in the MC led.
“You just trashed her store and stole half her money for no reason.”
“I have a reputation to maintain on the streets, sweetheart.”
“What, that you fly off the handle at every slight?”
He lets out a gale of laughter. “You act like you didn’t grow up in the MC.”
Maybe it’s the sight of his battered face that has my heart racing. Without him, I have nowhere to go.
So I say nothing.
My face burns as I stare at the street, and we walk in silence all the way back to his house. He slides his arms around my waist the moment we’re alone. I freeze in as the image of him swinging the bat burns in my mind. I hate the way my skin pricks with heat the moment I feel his hands on me. I’m supposed to tame him, and I’m doing a pretty shitty job of it so far. He turns me around so that we’re facing each other and then gently backs me against a wall, sliding a thigh between my legs.
Holy crap.
The hardness of his thigh rides my pussy and for a moment all I can think about is how amazing he always makes me feel.
“Jack, you’re risking your life,” I whisper when he bends his head. “It’s way too reckless.”
“That wasn’t a risk. The people in this neighborhood know who I am.”
Didn’t work out so well for your brother, did it? Then I feel a stab of shame at that thought, because every time I think of his brother I feel a fresh wave of hot, bubbling guilt.
“One of these days, Beatrice, you’re going to have to stand up for yourself.”
“Like you?” I quip before I can stop myself.
He thumbs my mouth as his eyes fuck me. Then a smirk pulls at his lips. “Maybe.”
My stomach shivers as he flattens his hand and moves down my waist, parting the waistband of my jeans to curve over my mound and gently stroke my throbbing nub. He laughs in my mouth, centimeters from a kiss. The air billowing over my lips makes my heart jackknife into my chest.
“No panties. That must be really uncomfortable.”
Yes, it is, you crazy asshole.
A wet heat slides across my lips, and then he presses his whole body against me. His mouth descends over mine and my cheeks flame as desire makes my flesh ache. Then he slips his hand out of my pants. His body disappears from my side and he walks away from me, throwing a grin over his shoulder as he enters the kitchen and grabs a tall, skinny bottle.
Fucking bastard.
My head pounds as he sits down at the kitchen table and pours himself a drink. “We’re going to a party downtown tonight. Johnny will expect you to be there.”
I exhale a huge breath and walk closer to him, pulling out a chair to sit next to him.
“Are you going to be a good girl and behave, or am I going to have to bend you over my knee?”
“I don’t like him, Jack.” A cold feeling spreads through my limbs whenever I think about his lifeless stare.
“Your cousin will be there.”
Maya?
I fidget in my chair with an excited squirm. “And the baby?”
He gives me a strange look. “I don’t know. Probably.”
Happy thoughts of that beautiful baby burst as Jack pours himself a drink and inhales it. The table trembles as he slams it down. He shoots me an angry look. “What?”
I tentatively reach for his arm, but he pulls it away. “You look upset.”
Jack’s brows furrow as he violently grabs the glass, nearly spilling the bottle’s contents on the table. He slams it back and swallows, screwing up his face.
“Is it your brother?”
“The fuck do you care?”
The sting hits my face, thrown by the contempt in his voice. I picture the moment his brother died in my mind. I was there. I want to tell him that I saw three men wearing leather cuts through the darkened window. The desire swells up inside me. I look at his face, slightly red with alcohol.
And I can’t tell him.
The pain weighs down his shoulders. Fuck, I never thought I’d feel bad for one of them until I married him. My gut wrenches as I imagine it over and over—the pillow over his face and their smooth, indifferent expressions.
He raises the drink to his lips and throws his head back. Seething eyes cut me as he lets the glass drop on the table. It shudders in his hand when he swallows the drink.
I look around the apartment, trying to seize on something that will distract him. “Jack, why are there boxes everywhere?”
I noticed them the first time I stepped in his apartment. Did he just move in?
He shuts his eyes as if in pain. “They’re Mike’s stuff.”
“Oh.”
Good fucking job.
The guilt eats at my insides like a plague and I stand up to get away from it. It’s not my problem. What the hell do I care about some dead Mafia asshole?
Jack buries his face in his hands, his elbows sitting on the table.
A dagger hits my chest.
“He was the only family I had,” he says in a heavy voice.
He uncovers his face and that wound still throbs in a big, shining lump. I walk over to the discarded frozen peas. They’re still cold. My footsteps echo hollowly as I return to the kitchen and grab a couple paper towels. I use the sink to wet them slightly and then I stand in front of him. My hand trembles with the towels as I place them over his face. He jerks his head to the side and pushes my waist.
“Stop.”
“Let me help.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I can deal with this. Alone.”
“Well, you’re not alone.”
I sit down on his lap and he lets out a frustrated sigh as I raise the sodden paper towels to that nasty gash on his forehead. I blot it gently, the dried blood smearing over the towel.
I’m close enough to see the small flecks of emerald in his eyes. They slide over to me and hold my gaze, and I forget what I’m doing. I’m just caught in his heavy stare as my heart becomes suddenly aware of how close we are.
“Does it hurt?”
Jack doesn’t respond. I just feel the slow burn creeping up my neck as his eyes refuse to let go of me. Flustered, I dry his face, gently patting, and then I hold the frozen peas against his head. Butterflies flutter in my stomach. I want to touch him—kiss him—but I’m afraid to. Despite being married to him, I don’t feel like he’s mine yet.
And I want that.
I desperately want that.
* * *
Silence.
The silence stretches thin, wavering like a solitary note on a piano key. The night whisks past my window. It feels weird to be inside the car. I’m so used to wrapping my arms around a broad back and just feeling the breeze freeing my hair.
The red mark still shines brightly on his head, but he doesn’t look like he gives a shit. Even that horrible blemish isn’t enough to dim Jack’s radiance. A smooth black suit, like liquid ink, covers his body. He looks really good—a lot better than he deserves.
Jack eyes cut at me occasionally, almost narrowed in suspicion. I eye his hand resting on the gear, wishing I could lace his fingers through mine, wishing I had an ounce of his affection.
You don’t deserve it.
“Hey, listen. Thanks for—uh, defending me at the grocery store.”
I’ll admit that a part of me felt a small amount of savage triumph. He was so passionate about protecting me that it almost felt real.
He shakes his head with a smile, saying nothing.
“Jack, do you think that the alliance will last?”
The smile disappears as though it was slapped off his face. He gives me a sharp glance and then stares straight ahead. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
Panic suddenly flares up my spine as he shakes his head.
“It
won’t last. There are too many people willing to fold under pressure and rat the other side out.” He doesn’t need to add that he couldn’t care less.
What will happen to us?
“What was the point of all this if it was just going to fall apart anyway?”
“Revenge. That’s the fucking point.”
The car lurches to a stop as he pulls up beside the street, and I realize with a start that we’re already there. I look down at my lap and grab my knees as a wave of vertigo hits me.
“What does that mean?”
His hand suddenly curves around my thigh and he leans across the divide, nuzzling my ear. “I’m going to take the sweet, innocent girl they gave me and use her as my fuck-toy.” His hand inches up my thigh and touches my wetness just briefly. “I’ll use you until I’m too exhausted to hate them.”
Then his fingers spread me open and I gasp as he enters me, hand curled under my dress. His mouth crushes against mine. I hear my wetness around his fingers, and the heat of his palm cupping my pussy sends electricity up my spine. My skin tingles as he roughly grabs one of my tits, the sensation of his thumb flicking over my nipple overwhelming me.
Jesus Christ. We’re in a car. Right under a streetlight.
We break from the kiss and he utters a low growl in my hair, still fucking me with his hand. “You want to be a good wife, don’t you?”
My dress rides up my thighs, his fingers diving in and out of me easily. My moan rips through the car, and Jack’s seductive smile hangs in front of me. “I asked you a question.”
“Yeah—yeah, whatever!”
“Not ‘whatever.’” The hand fondling my tits suddenly grabs my jaw.
“I’m a good wife!”
“Yes, you are. You never, ever disobey me. It’s almost like you were born to take orders from a man.”
Say whatever the fuck you want. Just keep doing this to me.
“Please, don’t stop!”
He forces his fingers through my tight walls. I clench around him and run my fingers over his thrusting hand. It feels amazing.
“You want to come?”
The pressure builds up with every tight thrust, and I grab his arm so that he pauses. His fingers brush against my clit and a jolt hits my heart.
“Can I?”
“No.”
The word crashes over my ears and I press my thighs together, trapping his hand.
“No? Why not?”
“Are you arguing with me?” The question comes out in a growl, but I hear his chuckle right before he snags the neckline of my dress and pulls it down, exposing a swell of flesh. He takes me in his mouth before I can answer, sucking my nipple and biting down over the sensitive ring.
I arch my back as I feel his tongue slowly flicking over my nipple, the cool air stinging me before his hot mouth sucks me. He pulls until it stings, until I feel the burn even after he pulls back and smiles at the red mark. Then he slides his hand out from between my thighs and pulls my dress over my knees.
Are you fucking kidding me?
“I love seeing you so worked up.”
I look at his lap and it’s as if he stuffed a pipe down his pants. I reach over and slide my hands over his cock, curling my fingers around him. A thrill hits my heart when I feel it twitch. He makes a sound at the back of his throat that makes me flush. Then he takes my hand away.
“Let’s go.”
“But—”
“I promise I’ll fuck you really hard if you behave tonight.”
I’ll have to spend the whole night aching for him. What a prick.
He pulls away from me, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he leaves the car and walks around. I’m still taking heavy breaths when he opens my car door. Jack takes my hand and I stand up on shaky feet, desire still pounding between my legs. He opens the plain black door and an explosion of music hits my face.
Jack’s arm is snug around my waist as he nods to the hostess. Inside is an expansive lounge where a live band plays. The tables are polished to a black shine and solitary candles in glasses look like fireflies. We walk down the steps and onto the floor, to a huge table where the whole family seems to be gathered. All of the men I recognize from the brief moments I’d catch them at the MC are seated at the table with their wives. They’re glitzy and beautiful, their hair styled on their heads like royalty. I look down at my summer dress and picture myself with my flat-ironed hair, and I feel completely stupid. I spot Maya talking happily to another woman with curly hair, and I see Johnny at the head of the table.
My husband tugs me along, making a beeline straight for his boss.
“Jack! How are you?”
Johnny stands up and Jack breaks away from me for a moment to embrace him. An uneasy feeling creeps inside my stomach as the Cravotta Crime Family boss merely gives me a curt nod and a smile.
“Ladies, this is my wife, Beatrice.”
He introduces me to every single person at the table, including a portly man who wrings my hand, and I’ve already forgotten their names by the time we get to Maya. She beams at me.
She wears a floor-length black gown with a plunging neckline and a dangling, brilliant necklace. Everyone is decked out to the nines, and I’m in this stupid summer dress. Good lord.
“Sit down!”
I take a seat next to Maya, and Jack squeezes in beside me.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I say fervently. “I’m so completely out of my element.”
She waves off my concern. “You’re fine, Bea.”
“Where’s your little boy?”
“Oh—Johnny’s ma is watching him.”
“Oh.” I deflate a little. Seeing Maya’s baby would’ve definitely been the highlight of the evening.
“I’ll show you pictures!”
I lean over her shoulder as she scrolls through dozens of baby photos, and I fight a rising tide of jealousy at her perfect family life. I touch the screen, marveling at those chubby cheeks and the dark tuft of hair.
“He’s beautiful.”
Maya smiles knowingly. “Thanks.”
It’s not fair.
Emptiness yawns inside me as I scroll through the photos. I feel her hand on my shoulder.
“Hey, you’ll get your chance.”
“With who? Him?”
I glance at my husband, who lounges back in his chair with a sour look on his face. He’s not happy to be here with me. He’s not happy, period. And I know exactly why. Guilt twists inside me like the sharp end of a corkscrew, digging deeper and taking root. I have to fucking tell him, or I’ll hate myself forever, but I can’t help but think about the future. What if we had a baby?
Then Jack turns his head and gives me a curious look, and my face burns hot like a lamp.
“If you ever need a babysitter, just ask.”
Maya nods, beaming. “Of course.”
“We already have a babysitter, ma belle.” Johnny leans in the conversation with a dark smile.
“Be nice.”
“I am fucking being nice.”
She shoots him a glare and then looks over my head. “What happened to your face?”
Jack shifts in his chair and smiles at her, the swelling on his cheek more pronounced. “Occupational hazard.”
“You gotta watch yourself, Jackie-boy.”
An uncharacteristically ugly look comes over Jack’s face. “Yeah, well, our boy Ben didn’t show up, so I had to handle it—”
“Not now.”
Jack sits back into his chair, looking frustrated.
A cool hand grasps my arm, and I turn toward Maya.
“So how’s everything going? With him?”
Suddenly I’m happy there’s a roar of background noise to disguise our conversation.
I’m basically his whore.
“Not great.”
“It wasn’t easy for me either, but I’m happy now.”
She looks it.
“You don’t regret it?”
“No. I had no futu
re at the MC.”
Call me crazy, but I didn’t mind it so much. Everyone had a place at the MC. Here? I don’t know what the fuck I am.
“Let’s just have a good time tonight!”
I try to smile back at my cousin as she pours me a glass of wine, but there’s a heaviness in my chest that won’t lift. Those fucking baby photos. They’re just a reminder of what I can’t ever have. Who knows how many years it’ll take before this investigation is over?
I down a large sip of wine and hope that it purges the baby thoughts from my head. He would be terrible to have kids with anyway. Wouldn’t he?
Then Jack grabs my wrist and my attention turns to the waiter hovering over me with a pad. I take the menu.
“I’ll have the spaghetti with homemade meatballs.”
He nods and moves down the table.
Jack’s heavy arm drapes over my shoulders. His hand curls over my bare skin and my heart jumps, pleasure flooding my veins. Rough fingers pinch me suddenly.
“Stop talking to her. The boss doesn’t like it.”
I look above the table to see Johnny regarding me with thinly disguised contempt. A mixture of fear and anger wrestle inside me, and I turn back to Jack.
This time my lips graze his ear. “Fuck the boss. Isn’t that what you always say?”
It’s the alcohol talking.
He laughs, showing off his teeth. “You’re going to get me killed.”
I don’t care if that asshole has a problem with me talking to his wife. Maya’s my cousin. I turn toward her, but Jack grabs my thigh under the table and squeezes.
A faint feeling similar to the rush of wine temporarily paralyzes my body. He inches his hand farther, his deep eyes staring at me like he gives a shit about nothing else.
“What are you doing?”
My whole body shivers as he leans in, brushing his lips against my neck. “Distracting you.”
Distracting me?
My thoughts repeat his words as though they’re a different language.
His finger brushes my inner thigh. I take his hand and dig my fingernails into him, and he retreats, laughing softly in my ear.
“You’ll have to come over sometime, get to know the baby.”
My attention turns back to my cousin as a confusing rush of emotions burns my face. “Yeah—of course! I’d love that.”
Property of the Bad Boy Page 10