by Cindi Madsen
Between his muscular arms and the way his thighs filled out his jeans, she’d known he was ripped. But knowing and seeing firsthand were two different things, and the latter short-circuited her mind, making it hard to remember what she’d been thinking about before walking through the door.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d come back,” Vince said.
She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Somehow, I doubt you were very worried.”
“I was, actually. Then I’d have to hunt you down, and you’d be pissed all over again.” The pupils of his eyes nearly overtook the brown, the predatory stare sending her pulse skittering. Was it bad to want to be hunted down?
The weight of the plastic bags in her hands registered as they became heavier by the second. Oh, yeah. I’m supposed to be bandaging the knife wound I gave him.
She set the bags on the table next to Vince’s duffel bag. Since she now found herself extremely warm, she shed his jacket. She kicked off her shoes, sighing at being flat-footed again, and then took out the medical supplies.
“Sit,” she commanded, and Vince sat on the edge of the bed. His dark eyes tracked her every movement, and her breaths came out shaky. She extended him a water bottle and one of her pain pills.
One dark eyebrow quirked up. “Trying to knock me out?”
“Yes. I plan on taking advantage of you later. Now take it.”
His chest rose and fell in a hypnotic rhythm, and then he tossed back the pill. They’d made her a bit loopy, but since he weighed quite a bit more, they probably wouldn’t affect him as strongly. Hopefully they’d take away the pain he was pretending not to be feeling.
Cassie spread the medical supplies on the southwestern motif bedspread. “I hope you like it rough, because this is probably going to hurt.”
Vince reached up and wrapped his hands around her hips, his fingers digging in and setting the skin underneath ablaze, despite the layers of fabric. “Keep talking like that and we’ll never get to the bandaging part.”
With a hand to his chest, Cassie pushed him back until he was flat on the bed. “How deep did it go?”
“I didn’t measure it,” he said, and the smartass remark made her feel a little less bad about pouring hydrogen peroxide over the gash; she figured it’d at least sting less than alcohol. He let out a harsh exhale. “I think it went more up instead of deep, so it’s just a shallow cut. I keep telling you to stop worrying about it.”
She scowled, ready to argue that it was a freaking knife wound, for goodness sake, but then he sat halfway up and cupped her cheek. “But I like that you do.”
Allowing herself a quick moment, she closed her eyes and soaked in the comforting warmth of his hand. Then she eased him back down. Once the bubbling from the peroxide subsided, she leaned closer to study the cut. It was a couple of inches long and gaping a bit, but it wasn’t bleeding anymore, so she took that as a good sign. She used two butterfly bandages to close it together, put gauze over the whole thing, and taped it in place.
“Good as new,” he said, sitting up and propping himself on his palms. Their eyes met and held. Then, one slow inch at a time, Vince leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers. The kiss was more reserved than the ones they usually shared, more like a tentative kiss to check where they stood.
In answer, she parted her lips and deepened the kiss. He slid his tongue in to meet hers, every stroke sending another wave of heat crashing through her. He tugged her down so that she straddled him, her ripped skirt bunching around her hips and exposing most of her legs. She sank farther onto him, letting loose a moan when his hardness met her center, the thin material of their underwear hardly a barrier, and yet it still felt like too much of one.
Vince slid his hands up her thighs. “I wanted you from day one. I told myself even if I couldn’t tell you everything, until I had the balls to tell you who I really was, I couldn’t have sex with you. I’d resigned myself to the fact that it was never going to happen. That I’d have to let you go.”
Cassie reached up and gripped the handle of the zipper that ran down the side of her dress. “Well, now I know everything…” She tugged down the zipper, and Vince’s eyes tracked the movement, darkening even more. “Including who you are.”
“And you still want to be with me?”
She peered into his eyes, and desire flooded her system. It was an urgent physical need, but it was deeper than that, too. This wasn’t fake intimacy or just the need to not be alone. Despite everything, she loved him. And the way he looked back at her said he truly loved her, too.
She ran her hand down his chest, rested it over his rapidly beating heart, and nodded. Just as she was about to push him back on the bed so she could have her way with him, she remembered his injury. “But if you’re too hurt to have sex tonight, then we can wa—”
In one fluid movement, he rolled her to her back and kissed her long and hard. “No more waiting. I’m sorry I never said anything about your dress before, either, because damn.” He skimmed his hand across the top of it, the drag of his rough fingertips sending goose bumps across her skin. “I feel like I’m unwrapping a present.”
He tugged the zipper the last few inches and peeled the pink fabric down around her waist, exposing her black strapless bra and most of her torso.
The soft touch of his lips on her neck made her breath catch in her throat. He kissed his way down, across her collarbone, to the swell of her breast.
Dizzying sensations raced up and down her body, each one screaming for more attention. Vince’s warm mouth came down on the lace covering her nipple, the sensation of the rough fabric and his circling tongue leaving her panting.
With a quick flick of his wrist, her bra slid free. Then he moved to the other breast. A jolt shot down her core, and she closed her eyes, soaking in every exquisite sensation. She arched against him, rolling her hips against his erection, and he hissed out a sharp breath.
“I’ve been thinking about this for so long,” he said, his voice husky. “You, me. Just like this.” He ran his hands over her as if he was memorizing every inch, and then he slid her dress down her legs and tossed it aside.
He hooked a finger in the string of her underwear, tracing all the way around to the back, and gripped her butt. “Damn, baby, if I’d known you were going around wearing thongs, I never would’ve lasted this long.”
“Well, I planned on seducing you tonight.”
He grinned and then his lips hit her skin again, right below her bellybutton, a hot exhale of breath followed by the soft press of his lips and delicious scrape of his whiskers. He tugged down her underwear, and she lost herself in a sea of euphoria as he moved his tongue over her center.
She threaded her hands through his hair as he drove her closer to the edge with his mouth, gasping as his whiskers dragged across her thigh. Just when she didn’t think she could take the onslaught of amazing sensations any longer, one last stroke of his tongue sent her right over, the orgasm tingling through every inch of her body.
The room spun and her limbs fell into a useless heap on the sheets, no longer remembering how to work.
When Vince lifted himself off the bed, she attempted to protest, but all that came out was a jumbled mess of consonants. Fortunately, he came right back with a condom. He looked down at her, an awestruck expression on his face that sent a whole new kind of warmth coursing through her veins.
He lowered himself onto her, and she wrapped her arms around him, basking in the combination of skin on skin and the way his weight pressed against her. “I completely lose my mind with I’m with you, you know that?” he asked. “You’re sexy and amazing, and for you to look past everything…I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
“Like it or not, you’re a good guy, Vince DaMarco.” She raised her head and kissed him, finishing it off with a gentle bite to his lower lip. “And you’re mine.”
“Always,” he said. He laced his fingers with hers and pinned her hands to the mattress. She cried out as he entered her, and as they kiss
ed, their tongues mimicking the movement of their bodies, she reached another level of bliss she didn’t even know was possible.
His name tumbled from her lips as she came apart again, and his orgasm followed on the heels of hers. Then they fell onto the mattress, a mess of sweaty, tangled limbs.
Vince wrapped his arm around her and pulled her back against his chest. He swept her hair aside, kissed the back of her neck, and whispered, “I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
As Cassie blinked away the haze of sleep, last night’s events came rushing back. The sniper, the running, and then…
Vince. The sex—calling it amazing didn’t even do it justice—and his promise to keep her safe.
Sometime in the night they’d shifted, and her head was now on his chest, which she decided was the most comfortable pillow ever. In fact, she was never bothering with the less superior feather or cotton versions again. She felt cemented to his body, and she hesitated to leave his warmth behind.
But then her stomach growled, reminding her she’d gotten distracted with other, more delicious things before they could eat any of the snacks she’d bought.
With the sheet tucked around her breasts, she pushed herself off Vince and stared down at him. The hot dark whiskers, strong jawline, and broken slope of his nose… He was so perfectly peaceful in sleep, all that testosterone resting just under the surface. Honestly, she couldn’t believe he was hers, even with the added craziness being with him brought.
Of course, some of the craziness was from her being in the wrong place at the very wrong time.
Last night she had nightmares about the murder in the alley—saw the guy begging in vain for his life, his body crumpling to the ground, the misshapen skull and dead eyes. With that memory rising up to haunt her, she kind of wished she could go back to not remembering.
A quick shake of her head didn’t completely dislodge those thoughts, but it helped. She threw back the covers and scooted toward the edge of the bed. An arm shot out, wrapped around her waist, and then Vince hauled her back to him. “Where do you think you’re going?” he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.
“Shower, then food.” She glanced over her shoulder—his eyes weren’t even open. He must be part ninja. “How do you feel this morning?”
He grunted.
“So like your girlfriend stabbed you in the gut?”
He cracked one eye open. “She and I have a complicated relationship,” he said, and a slow smile spread across his face. “But we’re working it out.”
He kissed her shoulder and slid his hand over her hip, dipping lower and lower. At the stroke of his capable fingertips, a jolt of pleasure shot through her core, and she melted against him. “Want company in the shower?” he asked, stroking her again.
The ability to speak left her, so she nodded. He stood, fully naked and obviously ready for action, then scooped her off the bed and carried her into the shower. Thoughts of their dangerous situation tried to push forward and remind her they weren’t simply on some kind of fun couples retreat. That they didn’t have a lot of time and should probably—
Vince backed her up against the shower wall and kissed her, his hardness nudging her slick, ready entrance. He reached over and turned on the hot water, and as the steam enveloped them, she closed her eyes and let Vince take her away to a place where everything was perfect and danger didn’t exist.
***
“The food was a good call,” Vince said as he polished off another muffin. “Not nearly as good as yours, but we’ll find you a place with a nice kitchen and get you back in business as soon as possible.” He wadded the wrapper, tossed it in the trash, and gathered what little they’d unpacked and shoved it into his duffel bag. “I’m thinking we head down through West Virginia today, unless there’s another route you’d prefer?”
“That works. It doesn’t really make much difference to me where we go, as long as we’re together.” Cassie’s hair fell over her face as she bent down and tied the sneakers he grabbed from her closet yesterday, and he couldn’t help but admire the way her perfect ass filled out her jeans. The image of her tiny thong popped into his brain, and his heart gave a hard thump in his chest.
Last night had been incredible. So had this morning. He’d already built up having sex with her so much in his mind, and then the real thing blew his fantasies out of the water. There was no going back now. He’d reached the highest of highs, and he never wanted to know what it was like to come down.
Being on the run wasn’t ideal, but they’d work it out. Like she said, as long as they were together, it didn’t matter where they went. He’d find a job to support them as she went through culinary school, and they could start over, just like he’d always wanted to. Eventually, this entire mess would be a bad memory they put behind them.
With her, anything was possible.
Cassie gathered her hair into a bun, and he fought the urge to throw her on the bed. His sexy librarian had a wild side, and his addiction to her morphed into whatever came after addiction. Reliance, maybe.
Her eyes met his, and everything inside of him unraveled. Something was wrong. He closed the distance between them and cupped her chin. “What is it, baby?”
She bit her lip, and apprehension clenched his gut. Was this where she told him she couldn’t do it? That he’d crossed too many ethical lines and she couldn’t be with someone like him?
“I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth,” she said.
“Okay.” He braced himself, scared of what she’d ask, and telling himself that from here on out, he wouldn’t hide anything from her.
“That guy Mr. Rossi shot in the alley? Tell me he was a bad person…That he deserved it. Or even if he didn’t deserve it, per se, because no one truly deserves to die that way, that he was a criminal, and the world is better off without him…selling drugs, or…doing whatever else criminals do.”
Vince sighed and dragged his thumb across her jaw. “Do you want the truth, or to hear that he was a bad person?”
“I guess that’s answer enough.” The devastation written across her face made it clear once again that she was too good for him. He didn’t agree with Carlo’s actions that day, but he could compartmentalize, the way he’d done for over a decade.
“He was falling behind on the payments in the protection racket Carlo runs in the Chambersburg neighborhood, where a lot of the immigrants have shops. Dante and Sal once stepped in when some thugs tried to rob the store, so they did at least protect it. But Eduardo had a son down in Mexico, and he always sent money to him, so he kept coming up short on his payments.”
Cassie flinched.
“Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have told you his name or about his son. It makes it worse.” That much he knew.
“No, I want to know. But I don’t. But I’d rather you tell me.” Cassie rested her hands on the sides of his waist. “So, why couldn’t they just…stop protecting him?”
“It doesn’t work like that. Carlo’s men are willing to take care of places the police won’t, but they don’t make it optional. If one storeowner thinks he can do it himself, others would follow. Even if they didn’t, his shop would be fairly safe simply because it’s between two of Carlo’s protected businesses, and he wants money for that. And as I mentioned, he’d already prevented one robbery.
“Even then, things probably wouldn’t have gotten so out of control, but one day when Sal went to collect, Eduardo got angry and pulled a shotgun on him. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t have loved to see that.”
Cassie shuddered. “Yeah, Sal always made my skin crawl. He constantly hit on me and talked in gross innuendoes.”
Heat coursed through Vince’s veins; if he would’ve known that, he would’ve held the figlio di puttana up against the wall until he’d passed out.
“Vince?” Cassie’s voice brought him back to the present.
“Anyway, Sal wanted to go
in there and retaliate, but Carlo held him off. He personally called Eduardo and told him they could work out a different deal, but he needed to meet him at the restaurant.
“I’d gone out back to look for Angelo, maybe a minute before you came out which was why the door wasn’t blocked off better. I tried to convince Carlo to give the guy another chance, but…well, you saw. He wanted to make an example out of him. He’s always talking about how in his line of work he can’t ever show softness, or the rest of them would eat him alive. The sad truth is, he’s right. Half his guys would turn on him if they thought they could take his spot. So he does what he has to do—”
Realizing he’d nearly defended his uncle, even after his attempted hit on Cassie, Vince amended his statement to, “What he thinks he has to do. He’s wanted me to join him since I was eighteen, and I’ll admit, I’ve been tempted more than once.”
Vince came the rest of the way clean. From how the club incident in New York tied back to him refusing Carlo, agreeing to be his number two so he could get her and Bobby out of the city, to how his dad was Carlo’s underboss until the day he was shot. The details of that day came out, too, everything in a messy display for her to see who he truly was.
As she blinked at him, he thought full-disclosure might not have been the way to go.
“Vince, that’s…horrible. I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “If that hadn’t happened, I’d probably be right there with Carlo, doing all the same things. Now you see just how fucked up my family is. How fucked up I am.”
She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Not you. You’ve got me now. You can break free and leave it all behind.” She shook her head. “I defended Carlo to people. I can’t believe I thought he was a nice person.”