by Fox, Logan
“As much as this shit’s fallen into your lap, you still get to decide what to do with it.”
Another long, slow lick—and then he gave her a light slap right over her clit.
She yelped, again trying to close her legs, and giving him a shocked look. He wasn’t paying attention—not to her face, anyway. Her cheeks flashed hot with embarrassment, and she did her best to stop thinking about what she could possibly taste like.
“You could try and run away…”
A shock coursed through her as he slid two fingers inside her. Her eyes squeezed shut. When he drew his fingers out, she could feel wetness on them when he rubbed them over her.
Embarrassment turned to mortification.
She would spontaneously combust if he kept going like this.
“But we all know how well that worked out.” He shoved his fingers back inside her, and began massaging her clit with the tip of his tongue.
“Oh, god,” Cora moaned, arching her back as he began working his fingers in and out of her. “Oh my fucking god.”
“Prayers won’t help you,” Lars said, using his thumb to rub her clit as he propped himself up with an elbow so he could stare over at her. “You gotta figure this out for yourself.”
“I don’t…no one listens—” But whatever she’d been trying to say fell apart when he added another finger to those thrusting in and out of her.
“So make them listen. You’re capo now, aren’t you?” He licked her clit, and then sucked so hard that a flash of pain shot through her. “Say it,” he murmured.
“It’s not that easy—”
He sucked her again, harder this time.
She cried out, grabbed his hair in a fist, and tried to pull him away. “Say it,” he said, twisting his head out of her grip.
“I’m…”
He sucked at her again, this time raking teeth over her too. She gasped, arching her back at the infuriating mixture of pleasure and pain bursting through her. She wanted it to stop, but she never wanted it to end.
“I’m…I’m capo!” she managed.
“Good girl,” Lars crooned, and gave her a soft, slow lick as if to reward her. “Now, what do capos do?”
“I don’t know!” She got up to her elbows, staring wide eyed at Lars. “They…they…”
He drew his fingers out of her, and used that wet hand to slap her. It stung furiously for a second before fading. “I don’t know!” she cried out. “They sell drugs?”
He laughed at her, and then slapped her again across her entrance. Her body caught fire, and she arched her back as she hissed at him.
“You’re over thinking this, bunny.”
“Stop calling me bunny,” she muttered through her teeth.
“Yeah? You want me to stop?” He gave her a hard rub with his hand and then climbed up on the bed.
She let out a short breath, blinking stars from her eyes. “Don’t call me that,” she said.
“What should I call you, then?”
“Not bunny.”
“I can call you what I want in here,” Lars said, and gently cupped his hand between her legs.
“No! You said—”
“Out there, bunny. Out there you call the shots,” he murmured as he dipped his head and nuzzled her neck. “But in here, we’re your masters.”
He squeezed her, slid a finger inside, and touched something that sent a burning pressure through her. She writhed under him, not sure if what she’d just felt was good or bad, pleasure or pain.
Why the hell was everything always so muddled with sex?
“We?” she managed.
“Me. Finn.” Lars caught her bottom lip in his teeth. “Whoever else you decide to fuck.”
“What? There’s no one—”
But then he kissed her, and she moaned against his mouth when she heard him zipping open his fly. She squirmed again. She wasn’t ready, not for this. Not right now.
She could taste herself on his lips, his tongue. Something else she didn’t know if she liked or not. But then his sweet saliva washed away that taste. And his cock touched her slit. And he paused.
“Princess,” he murmured. “How about I call you Princess?”
“Fuck you,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering.
“I plan to,” he said, nibbling at her earlobe as he sank down on top of her. His belt buckle scraped her inner thigh, his jeans feeling rough against her skin. He grabbed her hand, guiding it down until she could feel the hard length of his cock. “But only after you make a decision.”
She wrapped her fingers around him, eyes fixing on his as he forced her hand up and down his length in slow, steady strokes. Her mouth opened, and she bucked under him, trying to move down on the bed so he could penetrate her.
But he held back, driving her insane as the tip of his cock moved over her slit without going inside. As she felt him throb in her hand, but couldn’t pull him close enough to fuck her.
“Is it going to be Princess, or Capo?” His green eyes bore into her. “What are we going to call you out there?”
Her lips quivered. He pressed the tip of his cock against her and drew it hard over the length of her wet slit. “Come on, bunny. What’s it going to be?”
She moaned at him, lifting her hips. His smile grew the longer she squirmed under him, the more he teased her. Electric fire coated her skin. Her core throbbed painfully, begging for that first thrust.
“La Sombra,” she murmured, lifting her head and catching his lips with hers.
He made a delighted sound, and slid the first inch of his cock inside her. “La Sombra?”
“La Sombra,” she repeated through their kiss. He ground his mouth against hers, and drew back one last time. “What’s it mean?”
“The Shadow,” she whispered.
“Bit dark…” He pulled out of her, rubbed her hard with the tip of his dick, and grinned down at her. “You sure?”
“Yes.” She was about to yell at him to fuck her so he would end her suffering, but then she remembered what he’d said.
She didn’t call the shots in here. He did.
They did.
“Then that’s what I’ll call you,” he said, and thrust so hard into her that she let out a breathless gasp in protest. “My capo.”
39
Nothing
Finn was late for dinner. He spotted Cora immediately as he entered the villa’s dining hall. She sat beside Lars near the head of the table. Cora had watched his progress across the room, too. Her cheeks were rosy, as if she’d been drinking.
Not surprising—the Riveras and the Martins loved their fucking alcohol. He’d tried to sip from his glass as slowly as possible after tossing back almost the entirety of his first drink, but Gabriella had become more talkative the more she drank, and she was matching him drink for drink. The woman had a surprisingly high tolerance level. And he was pretty sure she’d done a bump of coke when she’d gone to the ladies because she’d come back as pumped up as if she’d just won an Olympic medal.
“Where were you?” Cora whispered, as soon as his ass touched the chair.
He did a quick glance around the table. Four of Javier’s men were seated opposite them, Silvia chatting with one of them, Ana nearby. Javier and his son Neo were not in sight.
“Making friends,” he murmured. He doubted the sicarios opposite them could hear what he said, but he turned and put his mouth by Cora’s ear anyway. She turned to him, eyes glittering gold and amber, and slid a hand onto his thigh.
He pulled back, frowning at her. He was going to ask her if she’d been drinking, but then Javier walked into the dining hall wearing one of his characteristically smug smiles.
Gabriella arrived a second later.
She’d told Finn to stay in the pool for twenty minutes after she left so they wouldn’t arrive at the dining hall together. Seemed she’d taken that time to go and spruce herself up.
Javier’s wife had changed into a pale dress that flowed over her body like cream before flari
ng out at her knees. Her hair had been arranged in curls down one shoulder, caught just above her ear by a glittering diamond hair clip.
She took her seat across from Javier’s, at the opposite head of the table.
“Agree to everything Gabriella says tonight,” he murmured hurriedly in her ear before Javier passed them.
“What?” Cora whispered, frowning at him.
But Finn had already drawn back from her, taking a glass of wine that a servant had poured for him. He leaned behind Cora, lifting his chin at Lars when the man leaned back too. Lars studied him for a moment, glanced at Gabriella, and then gave Finn a subtle thumbs up behind Cora’s back.
Javier sat at the head of the table across from Gabriella, slid a napkin over his lap, and beckoned toward someone standing in the doorway.
Cora was taking a sip of wine when a man walked into the dining room. Wine sprayed from her mouth when she glanced up at the new arrival, and she coughed as she grabbed her napkin and pressed it hurriedly against her lips.
Finn didn’t do so great either; he almost dropped his fucking glass when Cora’s former bodyguard strode into the room.
“Are you all right, Elle?” Javier asked.
Without answering, Cora rose to her feet in a rush. She scooted her chair back with her hand, and hurried over to Bailey. Her high heels click-clacked loudly on the marble floor.
Everyone turned to look as she ran straight into his arms.
Bailey took a step back, arms lifting as if he wasn’t sure if he should push her away or hug her back. He threw an uneasy glance across the room toward Javier and did neither.
Finn spun to look at Javier.
The man looked like a cat in front of a bowl of fucking whipped cream.
“Reunions are always so emotional,” Javier said, lifting his glass to his lips and taking a long drink.
Cora drew back from Bailey, holding him at arm’s length. Then she turned to Javier. “But…how…?” She turned back to Bailey, and gave him another long hug.
This time, Bailey folded his arms around her back and rested his mouth on the top of her head.
Finn was on his feet in an instant. Surprisingly, Lars didn’t try and stop him when he moved past his seat en route to Cora and Bailey.
He grabbed Cora’s shoulder, pulled her away from Bailey, and stuck out his hand.
“I shot you,” Finn murmured, careful not to let anyone except Cora overhear them.
Bailey gave him a brittle smile. “I survived.”
They shook hands, and Bailey immediately moved around the table, giving Cora an almost apologetic look as he took a seat beside Javier.
This had Finn and him staring directly at each other.
Cora hurried back to her seat, scraping its legs over the floor as she sat. “Tío, how did you…?” she waved at Bailey, as if lost for words.
Finn studied her for a second. She’d shot up so quickly earlier, he hadn’t been able to catch a look at her face.
Perhaps that had been intentional. He’d never known her to be so flustered. Not like this. She tended to go quiet when the world went sideways on her. She didn’t become this fluttery, breathy girl.
She knew…came a serpentine voice inside his head. She’s keeping secrets from us.
Finn turned his stare on Bailey. The man was already watching him, face blank. But, as if he’d read Finn’s mind, he gave the slightest nod of his head.
Lars must have picked up on the same thing. He sat slumped in his chair, twirling the base of his wine glass along the edge of the dining room table as he studied Cora with narrowed eyes.
“I’m glad you’re so happy to see him,” Javier said. “It makes this so much easier.”
“What?” Cora asked, frowning at Javier.
“Bailey was insistent that he come work for us.” Javier held out a hand to her. “For you. I’ve appointed him as your first sicario.”
There was silence in the room following that pronouncement.
“Never,” Finn said. He slowly turned his head to Javier. “That will never—”
Cora cut him off with a hurried, “But how, tío? Bailey? How’d you find me?”
Javier glanced from Finn to Cora, and chose to answer her instead. He took a small sip of his wine before setting down his glass.
“As soon as he came out of hospital, he sent a message through one of my men,” Javier said. “You said you came out yesterday, isn’t that right, Bailey?”
Bailey gave Javier a nod, and drank down half his wine before he lifted his eyes toward Cora again. Finn shifted, thumping his elbows onto the table and gripping his hands together. This drew Bailey’s eyes.
“Hospital?” Finn asked quietly.
Bailey glanced at Javier before answering. “One of Tony’s men shot me.”
“Shot you?” Finn repeated.
Cora kicked him under the table. He knew he sounded like a fucking twat, but it was as if everything had just come crashing down. It was as if he’d just discovered that the puzzle he’d thought almost complete was a scrap of something much, much bigger.
And he didn’t have a single fucking corner piece to work with, or the lid with the goddamn picture on it.
“Shot me,” Bailey repeated, shifting in his seat.
The man didn’t look worse for wear. In fact, he looked just as robust as when he’d been up in that hayloft with Cora, about to take the virginity of a girl he’d been guarding for more than a decade.
Anger solidified into a burning ball of lead in Finn’s stomach.
“Why?” he asked, gripping his elbows and sliding them forward on the table. “Why would someone shoot you?”
Bailey opened his mouth, but Javier cut in. “Cora…may I speak with you for a moment?”
Cora spun to face Javier, eyes wide. They cleared an instant later, and she let out a quiet, “Sure,” as she pushed back her chair.
It seemed dinner around here was always a formal occasion that required the woman to dress up like peacocks. Cora had changed into a dress. Her hair was up in a high, sleek ponytail, and she’d put on lipstick and mascara. The black dress she wore glimmered faintly, and skimmed her curves just enough to remind him of exactly how delicious she looked when she was naked.
Her elegant beauty was intoxicating—and made him mad as hell for reasons he couldn’t begin to fathom.
Javier took her by the elbow, scanning her and murmuring what could have been, “Don’t you look stunning tonight?” as he led her toward the door.
As soon as they were clear, Finn reached over the table, grabbed Bailey’s hand, and slammed it into the table.
The four men seated beside Bailey sat up a little straighter. Ana and Silvia suddenly became very interested in their side of the table.
“Milo,” Lars murmured as he slid into Cora’s seat. “Let’s think this through, shall—”
“Leave us,” came Gabriella’s snapped command.
Javier’s men rose in unison, two of them tossing their napkins on the table as they made for the door. Ana and Silvia both looked toward Gabriella. She stared them down and then flicked her hand at them. “You too.”
Silvia rolled her eyes and tossed her napkin on her empty plate as she muttered something in Spanish and sashayed over to the door. Ana was a step behind her, but she kept her head down and didn’t make eye contact with Gabriella when she passed.
Gabriella rose and went to close the dining room door behind them. When she sat again, she took up her wine glass and waved at Finn. “Continue.”
He blinked at her. Released Bailey. And sat back in his chair as he took a long, steadying breath.
Finn’s hand had come to rest beside his plate, curled into a fist. “You’ve been working for Javier.”
“And for me,” Gabriella said, glancing behind her as if fearing the door hadn’t been shut properly. “Which is why you can take my word that—”
“Your word?” Finn bellowed, shooting to his feet. “I don’t know you.” He stabbed a finger a
t Bailey. “I don’t know him either. What I do know, is that I won’t allow him close to her.”
Bailey kept silent; perhaps there was nothing he could say to defend himself. He finished his wine, shrugged, and said, “It’s not up to you, mate.”
Finn sat down at an urgent tug on his shirt. Lars leaned closer, twisting so his back faced Bailey when he murmured in Finn’s ear.
“What the fuck, Milo?”
“Don’t trust him,” he grated.
“And Gabriella? You two were gone forever. Did you two—”
“She lied to me,” Finn muttered.
Lars patted his shoulder, turning and giving Gabriella a wide, if glassy, smile. “Well, seems we’ve all got ourselves into a bit of a fucking tangle, haven’t we. So, Bailey, could you—”
The dining room door opened again. Cora stepped inside, a shade paler than when she’d stepped out. She held her upper arm in a hand, glancing behind her and speeding up as soon as Javier came in behind her.
Lars scooted out of her chair, and she sat down with a thump, immediately grabbing her wine glass and downing it.
“What?” Finn murmured as Javier passed them.
“Nothing,” came her quiet reply. But she avoided his eyes, and lifted her glass for a refill when servants streamed into the room to serve dinner. Javier’s sicarios never did return, and a stiff silence filled the room once the serving dishes had been cleared and those seated at the table began eating.
Not surprisingly, only Javier seemed hungry.
40
Agree with everything
Javier had led Cora into the garden, far away enough that they could no longer hear voices spilling through those open doors. A trickle of unease tickled its way down her spine as he turned to her, face grim.
“You may have appointed your own lieutenants, but Bailey will be your sicario.”
“I said it was fine.”
“Mr. Finn seems to have his own opinion on the matter.” Javier’s eyes narrowed, and she could see the question budding on his lips. Before he could speak, she said, “It’s not Finn’s choice to make.”