by Levine, Nina
Oh, man, we were crystal freaking clear.
But I was just like my daughter. I liked making him work for it.
“Just one question—would you prefer—”
“I have no fucking preference on any of this. So long as I have your cunt, I’m a happy fucking man.”
“Well, that was all you had to say,” I said with the biggest smile on my face. Who knew bossy men who liked filthy words would get me so damn hot?
“We done?”
Also, who knew a grumpy question like that would make me smile? King didn’t usually ask anyone if they were done with a conversation.
I had no idea where he was taking me, but I loved a good surprise, so I didn’t push him for more on that. “We’re done. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
* * *
He was moody when he arrived to pick me up. But I was horny as hell after our phone call, even two hours on. So he could stalk around the place throwing orders out like a general all he liked; I didn’t care. Nothing was ruining my horny buzz.
I’d stopped drinking wine because the responsible side of me decided sitting on the back of a motorcycle drunk wouldn’t be the best idea. But Brynn and I had spent a good part of the last two hours talking and laughing over stuff, which meant I wasn’t quite ready when he rocked up.
He stood watching me in silence as I ran around my bedroom trying to locate clothes and stuff to pack. “Fuck, Lily, what have you been doing for the past two hours?”
I ignored his cranky tone and continued rifling through my underwear drawer for the exact right pair of panties that I really wanted to take with me. “Very important stuff, I’ll have you know.” I gave up on finding the underwear in that drawer and rushed out of the bedroom to the laundry where I did locate them. When I raced back to the bedroom, the glint in his eyes had shifted from pissed off to that intense look that got me excited. I slowed and placed my hand on his chest. “Why are you looking at me like that? Tell me what I did, because I need to file that information away for the next time you turn up here all moody and shit.”
He reached for the panties in my hand and took them off me. “How many pairs of these do you own?”
“One.”
“Buy more. In every fucking colour under the sun.”
I smiled and pressed my body against his, looping my hands around his neck. “You haven’t told me where you’re taking me tonight.”
His hand landed on my ass. He gripped it hard. “My place.”
That answer caused an explosion of butterflies in my tummy. Threading my fingers through his hair, I said, “I like that idea.”
His eyes searched mine, all the moodiness gone from them. “Yeah.” He then slapped my ass and said, “Now get this ass moving.”
I grabbed my panties from him and finished packing. Ten minutes later, we were on his bike heading towards his place. The level of anticipation I felt at seeing where King lived almost matched the level of need I had for him. Almost. Because nothing in this world matched that.
Traffic was a bitch, and it took us just under an hour to get to his place situated on the edge of the CBD that was, at most, thirty minutes from mine. As he pulled into the narrow lane, I glanced at the old converted warehouses lining it. Totally not what I was expecting. And that had to be one of the things about King I liked the most. I never knew what to expect. He was a constant surprise.
He pulled the bike into a garage that looked like a bike workshop with a wall of tools and parts. He also had some old couches and a bar fridge in here. An image of him kicking back with a beer and the guys filled my mind, and I wondered if he did that. So many things still to discover about this man.
Once we were safely inside, he switched the bike off, removed his helmet, and turned his face to mine. “Come here,” he bossed, his voice full of gravel. It hit me everywhere it should have, and I moved off the bike fast.
I took my helmet off, enjoying the way his eyes ran all over my body. Heat blazed from him, and I decided to give him a show guaranteed to get him hard. I slowly lifted my dress and slid my fingers down into my panties so I could lower them.
Our eyes locked as I kicked my panties to the side and moved closer to him. He held my gaze as I unzipped him and pulled his cock out. Wrapping my hand around it, I said, “You want my mouth on your dick?”
He gripped my neck and pulled me in for a kiss. Demanding and greedy as usual, he left me wanting more. When he ended it, he growled, “I want your fucking cunt around my dick.”
I wanted that, too, but first I needed my lips around it. I loved King’s cock. Couldn’t get enough of it. Or of that piercing he had. My core clenched just thinking about how good it made sex.
Bending, I slid my mouth down over his dick, swirling my tongue around it as I went. I reached for his balls and cupped them at the same time, loving the deep growl of satisfaction that came from him. A girl could die happy knowing she’d made her man happy.
I sucked him with a slow rhythm until his hand curled around my neck and he forced my head up. His eyes burned with desire, and I knew he’d reached breaking point. He wanted inside of me, and he wanted that now.
Moving swiftly off the bike, he positioned himself behind me, bent me over the bike, and yanked my dress up. “Fuck,” he growled as he thrust inside me.
I clutched the seat and held on tightly while he worked me hard. The vibrations of the bike had me wet for him, and judging by the way he slammed into me, this wasn’t going to take long. I didn’t care. This was just a warm-up for the real thing. If I knew King, he wouldn’t let me sleep much tonight.
He came first, his fingers digging into my hips. I followed fast with an orgasm that shattered through me so completely that my legs threatened to give way. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stand, and remained bent over the bike after he pulled out.
He placed his hand on my lower back and asked, “You good?”
I shook my head. “No. You just killed me. I’m not sure I can walk.”
Before I knew what was happening, he lifted me into his arms and carried me inside. The garage opened into an expansive living area that was bare except for a lone couch sitting on a large rug, overlooking a glass door that stretched the length of the room.
He placed me down on the couch, and I immediately stood, and said, “I need to use the bathroom.” Glancing up at the mezzanine level above us, I asked, “Is it up there?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
I headed upstairs, taking in the exposed brick walls, polished concrete floors, and industrial-type fixtures and fittings. King’s home was masculine to the nth degree, not only with all those things but also with the dark greys and browns throughout. The only thing that surprised me was the lack of furniture. He had the couch downstairs, and upstairs he had a king-size bed and another rug, but so far, that was all I could see. The bathroom had a handful of toiletries, but not many belongings. It was almost like he didn’t actually live here.
I used the bathroom and made my way back downstairs, finding him in the kitchen. This room appeared more lived in, and I wondered if perhaps he was just in the middle of renovating the place, because it was amazing. I took a good look, loving what I saw. The high ceiling and large windows lent space and light to the room and allowed his use of black for the cupboards and black granite for the kitchen counters to work well. The splash of colour coming from the brick walls accented the black beautifully.
Meeting his gaze, I said, “Your home is not at all what I was expecting.”
He rested his ass against the counter and crossed his arms. “What were you expecting?”
“Well for one, a lot more furniture. Other than that, I guess I just wasn’t expecting a home that looked like an architect or designer had been in recently. I wouldn’t have picked you for a guy who would hire either of those. Are you renovating at the moment?”
He considered that question for a beat. He then moved to where I stood and said, “I bought this place eight years ago, but I don�
��t live here. I’d intended to renovate it and have a family here. Those plans got fucked up, and I walked away and just let it sit. I came back about a year ago to finish the work so I could sell the place, but for some fucking reason couldn’t bring myself to sell it, and never did finish the renovations.”
“It looks pretty good to me. You mustn’t have much left to do.” It looked better than pretty good; the perfection in what I’d seen showed he clearly valued attention to detail.
He looked out through the doorway to the living area. “There’s still a fuckload of shit to do.” Settling his eyes back on me, he added, “Figure I might get started on that soon.”
The way he said that made me feel he meant something deeper by his words, but I couldn’t be sure. “By the looks of what you’ve done so far, you’ve put your heart into this place, King. I can’t wait to see it when you’re finished.”
He studied me intently, causing flutters in my tummy. I didn’t know why, but there was something in the way he watched me. He didn’t say anything further about it, though. Instead, he finally dropped his gaze to my breasts and said, “You see that bed upstairs?”
I smiled and nodded. Was this a trick question?
“Get your ass up there and get naked. I’ll be up in a minute.”
I didn’t wait for any further orders.
I did as he said.
But as I went, I grabbed my bag he’d brought in and left on the couch, because I had toys and I’d be making him use them.
Chapter Twenty-Five
King
“Ghost isn’t giving us any hell,” Nitro said after church early Monday morning. “He’s staying with his sister still, and his brother has thrown him some work. I’ll keep an eye on him, but from what he’s told me so far, he doesn’t seem interested in stirring up any hell.”
It had been two weeks since Ghost had been released, and I hadn’t seen him or heard from him. And that was exactly the way I liked it. I’d had Nitro and Hyde lay down the law with him, making it clear Storm wouldn’t hesitate to deal with him if he was even seen looking at the feds.
“Good,” I said, turning my attention to Kick. “Where are we at with D’Amato?” The last he’d told me, there was nothing happening there, but my gut told me that if the feds knew about Moses, it was only a matter of time before D’Amato got wind of it, too.
“There’s nothing to report. He has a routine that’s more anal than any I’ve ever seen, and he doesn’t seem to deviate from it. Monday through Thursday is work and family. Friday is work and then boxing with his Pulp Fiction friend.” He stopped talking for a moment, grinned, and then said, “It’s the craziest shit, the guy looks like that actor from Pulp Fiction. And the weekends are mostly with his family. I got Zane to tap into his phone, and there hasn’t been any talk about us or the feds or anything that would lead me to think he knows.”
Hyde leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “So where the fuck are the feds directing their attention? And how fucking long are they gonna drag their feet on this? I’m tired of sitting around waiting for the shit to hit the fan.”
He wasn’t the only one. Axe’s guy had advised me that regardless of what Detective Stark had told us, the case wasn’t as tight as they’d thought. Eliminating Romano had helped with that, but also the information he’d given them had proved not as useful as they thought, because after all our visits around Melbourne and Sydney, no one was willing to talk about Storm to the feds. Also, their new witness looked likely to walk. At this point, I was more concerned about the fallout from D’Amato if they talked to him about Moses to confirm that information. And that all circled my thinking back to Stark and the fact I hadn’t dealt with her like I should have.
I looked at Hyde. He was pissed I hadn’t handled Stark, and had been very fucking vocal about it. “Getting Stark on our payroll is an option,” I said.
“You’re fucking kidding me, King. If you’d just done what you went there to do, we wouldn’t be sitting around discussing one of your shittiest fucking ideas yet. You’re going soft, brother.”
“You’d do fucking well to watch what the fuck you say,” I snarled. “Removing her from the case would only lead to them replacing her, and the body count would just keep rising.”
“It’d send them a fucking message,” he snapped, his shoulders squaring like he was preparing to go head-to-head with me rather than backing down.
I shoved my chair back and stood, more than ready to meet him where he was. “It’d fucking have them out for our blood more than they already are!” I bellowed, my fists clenching.
He jerked up out of his seat and came at me, fists raised. Before he managed to land a punch, Nitro had his arms around Hyde and halted his progress. “Not a fucking good idea, brother,” he said as he spun him around and pushed him away from me. “We’re all fucking exhausted and need to get our heads together. This kind of bullshit is what the feds want.” He looked angrily between Hyde and me. “They fucking want us to fall apart and take ourselves down, and I refuse to let that happen. I am not fucking going back inside because you two motherfuckers couldn’t hold your shit.”
Fuck.
I blew out an angry breath.
He was fucking right.
I glared at Hyde one last time before sitting back down. “Right, this is our fucking plan going forward. I’m gonna pay Stark another visit and push her to do what we need her to do. The fact we took care of her husband should go a long way towards us getting what we want. Kick keeps watching D’Amato until we sort Stark out. Everyone else gets on with our usual shit. With any fucking luck, we’ll have figured everything out and taken care of Gambarro by the end of this fucking week.” I exhaled sharply again. And then I can spend the weekend fucking my woman without having to think about any of this bullshit.
Hyde hit me with a filthy look as he stalked out of the room. I ignored it. We’d had worse trouble between us before. This shit would blow over.
“For what it’s worth, I would have done what you did with Stark,” Devil said after everyone left.
I nodded. “Yeah, brother.” I believed he would have. We’d handled some stuff together that had shown me how similar we were in some ways.
He watched me thoughtfully. “You okay with this shit?”
I knew what he was asking. Had it stirred up memories for me when I’d walked away from Isabel Stark? Had it reminded me that I allowed Margreet’s killer to go on living after I discovered he was a single father to a daughter who needed him more than I needed vengeance?
Devil was the only brother who knew this story of mine. He’d caught me in a bad moment one night, and after some whisky loosened my tongue, I’d shared some shit about that with him.
I nodded and jerked my chin towards the door. “Go. We’ve got a lot of shit to get through today.”
My phone rang as he exited the room.
Ivy.
“Don’t tell me you’re calling for me to fucking take you somewhere today. I’m busy,” I said as I answered it.
“I really need you to swing by, King. There’s something wrong with the tap in the shower, and I can’t get it to turn off. Brian’s out taking one of the girls to an appointment, and I’m worried about the amount of water we’re wasting.”
“Jesus,” I muttered. “I’ll send one of the boys over. Sit tight.”
She turned silent before saying, “Oh, okay. I thought if you came, we could talk over some more of that stuff you helped me with the other day.”
She’d made me sit and listen to her plans for getting back on her feet. She hadn’t asked my opinion on anything, and I hadn’t given it, but it had felt like she’d expected me to make offers to be by her side while she got to work on it all. That had thrown me, but I hadn’t brought it up. I figured I was reading too much into shit, because surely she realised we didn’t have a shot at ever being a couple again. But here we were again, and I knew I had to deal with this before it got out of hand.
“I’ll b
e there in about half an hour,” I said and ended the call.
I didn’t have the time for this today, but it was something I had to make the time for. I’d meant it when I told Lily that Ivy was in the past. Now I had to make Ivy understand that, too.
* * *
“Thank you,” Ivy said when I entered the kitchen after fixing the shower. “Brian would have been super stressed about the cost of all that water if he’d come back to a running shower. He seems worried all the time over money.”
I dumped my tools on the table. “It’s why I like working with him. He runs a tight ship.”
“I wasn’t saying it was a bad thing, King. He seems like a good guy.”
“That’s because he is a good fucking guy.”
She frowned, coming towards me. “Why are you so short with me today?”
I raked my fingers through my hair. I’d been in a mood from the minute I’d stepped foot inside the place. Knowing I needed to discuss shit with her had me on edge. I was a bastard for what I was about to do. I’d fucked Ivy up in the past, and now I was about to cut her loose again, and that shit didn’t sit right in my gut. But I couldn’t figure out another way through this.
“We need to talk about some stuff,” I said, holding her gaze, trying to get a feel for her mental state. So far, she’d been happy to see me and had jabbered on the whole time I’d worked on the shower. But fuck knew, Ivy could switch gears as fast as I could, so I needed to tread carefully.
“What stuff?”
“You and I stuff.”
Her face lit up and she came to me, moving in closer than necessary. “I’m all for that.”
Jesus, she thought I meant something I didn’t.