That his promises mean something.
His eyes soften, then they glance down at my lips before he moves them back up to my eyes.
“I promise, Angel,” he agrees before he covers my lips with his, and I melt into his touch.
Later that day, Reign holds my hand while he escorts me through the Italian restaurant that has been in the Distucci family for the last fifty years. He lifts his chin to greet the guard who is glued to the bar, keeping an eye on everything before he pushes the swinging doors that lead into the kitchen.
“Bon giorno, boys, don’t mind us,” he chuckles towards two men, each covered in flour, making pizzas.
They give him a nod with wide grins, clearly not surprised by his presence. He tugs me in front of him, placing his arms around my waist while he presses his chest against my back.
“Say hi, because these are your best friends when you’re drunk as fuck and you want a pizza at three in the morning.” His breath warms the shell of my ear, making a flutter move through my body.
“Hi!” I wave with a big smile. They raise up their hand in greeting before I turn my head towards Reign’s lips, still close to my ear.
“You called these men out of their beds to make you pizza?” I playfully scowl.
“Hmm, maybe.”
“You’re awful.”
“I gave them each a $500 tip, so they are happy to make me pizza whenever.” He presses a kiss below my ear, then he starts moving us forward, walking towards the door on the other side of the kitchen.
“Babe, you can’t buy people,” I scoff.
“No, I can’t buy you.” He winks at me. “Everyone else has a price.” He untangles himself from my body to open the door which reveals a set of stairs.
I push him against the frame of the door, looking at him through my lashes.
“You don’t have to buy me, Reign Delaney. I’m yours already.” I lift up onto my tiptoes, placing an affectionate kiss on his perfect lips.
His fingers grab the waistband of my jeans, pulling me closer.
“I love it when my name rolls off your tongue like that.” His tongue darts out, demanding me to open my mouth, but I press my lips into a firm stripe, trying to keep a straight face.
“I will make sure it will be rolling off my tongue when your tongue is busy rolling through something else.” His eyes widen in shock as I push off of him, casually walking up the stairs.
“Damn, Angel. Why do you have to make this so hard for me?”
I glance over my shoulder, ignoring his question while I keep moving my feet up.
When I reach the last step, I turn around to meet his gaze, pleased to see him gawking at me like I want him to. My mouth curls into an innocent smile, staring back into his brooding eyes.
“Are you coming?”
“You’re really going to leave that in my head while we walk into a room full of men?”
“I’m sure there will be other girls besides me.” I shrug.
His eyes narrow, never leaving mine while he starts moving up the stairs.
Like an animal cornering his prey, he looks at me as if he will devour me the second he reaches me. Like he will tear me apart.
Good. I fucking want him to.
“I don’t want other girls.”
“Well,” I sigh. “I suppose we can go home then.”
He quickly closes the space between us, making me screech with joy as he pushes me against a brick wall. His mouth moves to my neck, and I tilt my head to give him more space.
“One of these days, I won’t be able to resist you anymore. You better be ready for it.”
He licks my sensitive skin, making me whimper, then he begins to nibble my earlobe.
My breathing speeds up, making me pant at the sensation of his touch. I clench my thighs together in burning agony, dying for him to release my longing desires. I’m not the one who’s been turning him down for the last few weeks. I’ve been ready for a while now, desperate for him to make me feel good. To replace my nightmares with dreams of what he can do to my body, but he wants to wait, to make sure we don’t have sex too soon after my bad experience.
Fuck that.
Reminding myself to make this as hard for him as possible, I take a deep breath.
“Reign,” I whisper in his ear.
“Hmm, yeah, Angel?” he replies between kisses.
I grab his chin, forcing him to look at me.
“I’ve been ready for weeks.” I give him a seductive grin, then open the door and walk into the room filled with Ronnie and his friends.
I sway my hips from left to right, suppressing a full belly laugh when I hear Reign let out a frustrated growl behind me.
Nine
Kane
Present Day
On the plane ride here, my anger rose once again, and all I could think about was how I was going to drag her home by her hair before I asked her what the fuck she was thinking.
Home.
I can’t help but chuckle at my own thoughts, but that is exactly where I want her to be.
I want to tear her apart and devour her while I punish her for her betrayal. While I tie her up on the bed and have my way with her until she is too tired to open her goddamn eyes.
When we landed in Havana, I could feel my heart rate slowly settle, as if physically getting closer to her eased the strange organ beating in my chest. I kept telling myself that I was only doing it to keep her alive.
To keep her out of the psychotic claws that belong to her so-called brother, wanting to have my way with her first.
But the second I noticed her vibrant strawberry blonde hair from where I stood in a dark corner of the club, my fury simmered down to a slight annoyance.
Even though my hands are still itching to drag her out of this club by her hair.
She faces the bar so all I see is the back of her toned body covered in a short black dress.
She’s fucking stunning.
I don’t even want to know how my body will react when my eyes finally meet the face that I’ve been craving to see for weeks. I let my eyes roam over her perfect curves, still lurking in the shadows of the dim bar, giving myself a moment to let every memory I have of her naked body go straight to my dick. Glancing around the room, I spot Imogen’s light blonde hair while she’s rubbing her ass against a Cuban with a big smile.
Liam comes up behind me, pissed as fuck like he has been for the last twelve hours.
I don’t even have to see his face to know there is a scowl on his face that is reserved for Callie.
“Who is that?” Liam grunts when he follows my gaze.
“Imogen,” I reply while my eyes never leave Callie.
“The cousin?”
I confirm with a nod, then tilt my head towards her, silently ordering him to focus on her.
He growls at me like a poked bear before he walks through the dancing crowd towards the blonde. He stands out just as much as she does, and she instantly greets him with a flirting smile, completely oblivious to who he is.
His tense body relaxes a little when she grabs his hands, placing them on her hips, forcing him to follow her movements.
The corner of my mouth rises in a pleased grin, watching the connection unfold easily between the two of them. A chuckle escapes my lips, wondering what it is with these girls.
My eyes move back to my favorite firecracker right before her friend’s eyes fall on me. I give her a quick glance before I turn my gaze back to Callie. Her back tightens a little when I see her friend say something to her. The tension would be undetectable to anyone who doesn’t know her well, but it’s completely visible to me.
Got you, baby.
She throws her head back and finishes her drink, clearly in need of liquid courage before grabbing the other drink sitting on the bar in front of her.
I can’t deny that I like seeing her squirm like this. I want her to fear my presence like no other. My body may not agree with my mind or my fucking heart, apparently, but Liam is r
ight about one thing. I have to find out the truth about her before I allow myself to get lost in the sexy curves that are Callie Reyes.
She spins on the spot, then casually leans her back against the bar before her eyes lock with mine. Her teal eyes are beaming with defiance above the rim of her triangle shaped glass, but I can spot the unease in the minute reactions of her body.
The short breaths leaving her lips.
The slight shake of her fingers.
The worried look she desperately tries to hide when she glances at Imogen laughing in Liam’s arms like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
Then she raises an eyebrow, challenging me like the fucking warrior that she is.
Little hellion.
Not interested in a stare off, I saunter towards her, followed by Jeremy and the rest of our team. My hands are aching to grab her by the neck with every inch I come closer to her, but I keep walking with my arms beside my body, my hands balled into fists until I’m only a few feet away from her.
Not close enough for anyone to be disturbed about it, but just enough to crowd her space, dominating the situation in every way.
She leans her back into the bar a little more to create distance between us while she continues to look me in the eye, her chin held up like the fucking queen she is.
I strategically put my right arm on the bar, caging her in just how I know she likes it.
“Baby girl,” I growl, controlling my anger.
My eyes glance to her plump lips, and I need to restrain myself from moving in to kiss them, letting her taste the anger on my tongue.
“Who is your friend?”
The sensual woman with the black curls looks at me through her thick eyelashes with a flirting grin.
“Soy Gloria, mangon.”
“Nice to meet you, Gloria.” I give her a charming smile while Callie scowls at me. She brings up her glass, challenging me with her eyes, making me notice the familiar jewelry on her wrist.
“Nice watch.” I frown.
“Thanks,” she beams, though I can see uncertainty in her eyes.
“Let’s talk, baby.” It’s not a question, and she knows it as she presses her lips together in displeasure before she lets out a big sigh.
“Gloria, I’m sorry, but Genny and I have to go. I’ll text you later, okay?” She faces her friend and gives her a reassuring smile. I turn my face to Gloria and give her a satisfied smile, pleased Callie isn’t going to make this hard.
As if the two of them just had a silent conversation, Gloria’s eyes meet mine, and her flirtatious stance changes to one of a protective lioness, as though she is suddenly completely aware of the complicated relationship I have with her friend.
Cute.
“You take care of mi hermosa, or I will cut off your balls and feed them to one of the many stray dogs we have here in Havana.” She boldly pokes her finger in my chest, crowding me like I’m crowding Callie.
I slowly turn my head to face her then widen my eyes, stunned by the stupidity this girl has for talking to me the way she does.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she continues. “I mean it. Don’t. Fuck. This. Up.”
I clench my jaw and exhale through my nose like a bull ready to charge before I feel Callie’s warm hand landing on my chest. Ignoring the heat of her palm burning through my skin, separated by the thin fabric of my t-shirt, I keep my gaze on Gloria.
“It’s okay, Gloria. He won’t hurt me,” she assures her quietly, making my eyes move back to her. Callie gives her an assuring look before her eyes look at me through her fluttering lashes. It takes everything in me to not stroke a single strand of hair behind her ear or to brush her freckled skin with the back of my hand. I can see her pulse beating nervously in her neck.
“Genny?” she pleads.
I ignore her question and hold her gaze before I grab her upper arm, urging her to start moving. I hear her softly say, “bye” to Gloria while I lead her out of the club, my hand firmly enclosed around her arm while I try to ignore the scorching feeling of her skin under the palm of my hand.
We walk out the backdoor into a small alley that leads to where the SUV is waiting for us. Her heels are tapping against the pavement, and it seems like the tension is rising more with every step we take.
I can’t think straight with my dick desperately wanting to claim her against the wall of this dark alley like she is some cheap whore.
Even though she is anything but.
“Was I lying back there?” she asks while dragging her feet over the pavement, trying to slow the pace down.
“Shut up, Callie,” I grunt.
“Don’t hurt Imogen, okay? She has nothing to do with this.”
“Stop talking, Callie.”
“Are you going to hurt me, Kane?” She spits out my name with a mocking tone, and sick of her attitude, I push her against the red brick wall before I lock her in by pressing my elbow across her collarbone.
I press my forehead against hers while I frustratedly close my eyes, my hand creeping up to grab her neck in a dominant way.
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Callie.” When I open my eyes again, I catch a glimpse of her rolling her eyes at me. I clench my jaw in frustration before I angrily push myself off of her.
I let out a frustrated growl as I look into her defying eyes.
“Just shut up for two seconds, woman.” Now it’s my voice that’s pleading because having her this close to me but not being allowed to touch her is fucking with my head.
Not being allowed to kiss her.
To not run my hands through her silky, strawberry blonde hair.
Keeping myself from burying my face in the crook of her neck.
She shakes her head, and I clench my jaw, already knowing this won’t end well.
“Never, Kane.”
Fuck this.
All the restraint I have leaves my body, and I desperately press my body against hers while I cover her mouth with mine.
I’d hoped I was wrong. That after a few weeks of her absence, she would be nothing more than another girl to fuck. But as soon as my lips connect with hers and I can taste the sweetness of coconut and flowers on my tongue…
I’m gone.
My hand fists her hair while the other strokes the skin on her thigh, desperately wanting to feel her soft skin under the tips of my fingers. I can feel the strap of the gun holster on her thigh, and I feel a sense of pride form in my gut. I explore her mouth like it has been years since we kissed, needing to satisfy the roaring hunger inside of me. At first she freezes in shock, and her body goes rigid, but after a few seconds the tension leaves her body, and I feel her hands moving up to cup the back of my neck. I moan at the touch, and I can hear a whimper escape her breath.
“Fuck.” I pull back, pressing my forehead against hers while my hand pulls out the gun from her thigh, tucking it in the back of my jeans.
Her cheeks are flushed, so I reach up my hand, brushing my knuckles against her fair skin before I move them down to her neck.
She’s panting, and I can feel her pulse racing against the palm of my hand.
Fucking her against the wall seems like a damn good plan right now.
I clench my jaw, ready to give in to the temptation when I hear someone clearing his throat.
I close my eyes for a second then take a deep breath before I glance to my right, keeping my forehead connected with hers.
“You lasted five minutes. Good job, fuckface.” My brother scowls from about five yards away.
Imogen is standing next to him, glaring at me before she looks at Callie.
“You okay, Callie girl?”
She nods quietly while letting go of my body, so I take it as my cue to do the same. Taking a step back, I get back in to business mode, grabbing her arm.
“Let’s go.”
Ten
Callie
Six years ago – 18 years old
Imogen flops her body next to me on the couch, following my gaze which is cur
rently fixated on the stripper climbing the pole in the middle of the room.
“Thinking about a career switch?” she asks.
“Not gonna lie, it looks impressive.” I fold my arms in front of me, following her legs, inching up the pole before I look at my cousin.
“Where the fuck have you been?” The look on my face is full of judgment, knowing for a fact that she’s been with some guy from the Upper East Side for the last two weeks.
“What’s with the tone?” She rolls her eyes while she hands me a tumbler filled with brown liquor and some ice. “I bought you a drink, be nice.”
I grab the glass out of her hand, bringing it close to my nose.
“Rum?” I complain, wrinkling my nose. “Since when do I drink rum?”
“Since now. And since I told that hot bartender over there that I’ll be having whatever he’s having.” She tilts her head towards the small bar on the right side of the room.
“You don’t drink rum.”
“I know, that’s why I’m giving you the rum, and I’m drinking the gin I ordered for you.”
She clinks her glass against mine, almost sloshing it over my dark jeans, making me shake my head in amusement.
“So where’s the Manhattan boy? I haven’t talked to you in weeks.” I bring the glass up to take a sip, feeling the sweet liquor grace the insides of my mouth.
“Ditched him.” She shrugs.
“Too clean?” I smile.
“Too clean.”
I glance around the room, looking at the crowd that we hang out with. About half of the boys in here went to our school, the other half are either mob soldiers or trying to get in the good graces of Ronnie and his Italian buddies. I like to blame my upbringing for my choice in friends, but that’s a flat out lie. Imogen and I balance on the fine line that is called the law because life is too boring to just walk on the curb. However, we are not law-abiding citizens.
We have morals. We know right from wrong.
Hell, I even believe in fucking karma.
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