Power (The Santini Assassins #1)

1. Luciano’s Target

L uciano Santini stepped out of his chauffeured Rolls Royce and buttoned his hand-tailored suit jacket. He breathed in the brisk October air, welcoming the cool evening. After a nod to his driver, he tied on a simple black mask, collected the designer shopping bags from the back seat, and made his way up the stone stairs toward the etched-glass front doors.

Every last one of the estate’s front-facing windows was illuminated in a freakish red glow.

It’s like I’m walking into hell.

Saturday night, after eleven, and the party was well underway. It had been years since he’d been to one of Burke’s soirees, but he was setting a trap, and it had to be there.

Time to make my move.

One quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that his younger brother, Teddy, was seconds behind him, also in a chauffeur-driven sedan, also wearing a Santini suit.

Just as he reached for the front door, it swung wide. Two women, both wearing French maid outfits, stood in the foyer, their faces concealed behind elaborate feathered masquerade masks.

He liked birds, just not on a woman’s face.

Less is more.

“Good evening, Mr. Santini,” said the petite, light-skinned one.

“It’s a pleasure,” said the taller, dark-skinned woman.

He waited for Teddy before entering the home. Red lighting bathed the home in an eerie glow that added to the already edgy vibe.

“Ladies,” he replied. “Same rules?”

“No, is no,” said the tall one. “Consent is king.”

“We’re also available to play,” said the small one.

Luciano wasn’t there to play with the members, and he wasn’t there to play with the lovelies posted around the mansion either, but they didn’t need to know his real intention.

Barefaced, Teddy appeared in the doorway and Luciano threw him a disapproving glance.

“Right, my mask.” Teddy pulled a black one from his suit pocket and fitted it over his eyes.

“Hello, sir,” said the dark-skinned woman. “Name please.”

“He’s with me,” Luciano said.

“Sorry,” blurted the light-skinned woman. “No exceptions.”

Luciano let his gaze linger on one before sliding his attention to the other. Then, he flashed them a smile. One sighed, the other bit back a moan.

Worked every damn time.

“Let Burke know Tank is with me,” Luciano said.

“No need,” said Burke as he joined them. The two men shook hands. “Luciano, you look perfect and I fucking hate you for it.”

Teddy snort laughed as Burke extended his hand. Teddy shook it. “Tank, you look too damn good yourself.”

Luciano’s youngest brother, Theodore Santini was Teddy to the family, Tank to everyone else.

Burke had put on fifty pounds, his large paunch protruding over his polyester blend lounge pants. The leopard-print robe hung open, revealing tufts of graying chest hair.

Luciano wouldn’t be caught dead designing leopard-print loungewear for men.

Luciano handed Burke a shopping bag. “For the host.”

Burke held up the bag, admiring the gold, embossed lettering.

SANTINI

“Very generous.” Burke pulled a black, pure-spun, organic silk smoking jacket from the bag. “It’s magnificent.” He dropped the unattractive robe off his shoulders and slipped into the luxury garment.

“My skin is having an orgasm,” Burke blurted, as he ran his pudgy fingers over the finely woven material.

Luciano and Teddy laughed.

Burke slung his arms around both men. “Tank, you get more muscular every time I see you, but look at me… I got fat.” His boisterous laugh filled every inch of the spacious foyer.

After Burke settled down, he escorted the brothers toward the kitchen.

The living and dining rooms were crowded with furniture, most of it outdated and hideous, but Luciano didn’t give a damn about the decorum. He was there to meet someone. Someone who’d been lurking the shadows for well over a month. After doing his due diligence, he was done being the hunted. Time to become the hunter.

A charge of adrenaline spiked through him.

Nothing better than the thrill of the chase.

In the spacious kitchen—also in desperate need of a makeover—the bartender was chatting it up with several guests perched on the counter stools as he topped off their white wine. Burke opened the refrigerator, extracted a bottle of champagne, popped the cork, and poured three glasses.

After the men toasted, Luciano glanced around. Though the party was downstairs, several guests chatted in small groups nearby.

She’s not here… yet.

Luciano sipped the bubbly while Burke chatted about his business. When the glasses had been drained, Burke escorted them to the lower level.

“Enjoy, and thanks for the gift,” Burke said before walking toward his seat in the front row.

The lower level boasted a seventy-five-seat theatre where a cast of six titillated and enthralled their audience with their well-rehearsed sex show on a red-lit stage.

For over a decade, Burke and his wife Morticia, had been hosting these free-for-all spectacles. Years earlier, Luciano’s close friend, Colton Mitus, had dragged him to one. He’d hooked up with a woman, then hooked up with another. There had been a third, then the night evolved into an orgy. The intense evening had lasted until daybreak. It had been fun, but he’d never returned. Random hookups weren’t his thing.

Standing in the back, Luciano and Teddy watched the hedonistic performance. Sex used to mean something to Luciano. Nowadays, it was a necessary evil, devoid of any emotional connection.

Though his cock stirred, Luciano wasn’t drawn to the scene, so he shifted his sights to the audience. Row after row of perfectly aligned seats packed the finished lower level. His target would be easy to spot. A leggy beauty with long, wavy chestnut hair, unremarkable clothing, and a pair of binoculars in hand. Tonight, however, she wouldn’t have the binos to hide behind.

He’d been looking forward to turning the tables on her. Nothing like confronting the enemy.

“Is she here?” Teddy whispered.

“I don’t see her.”

“Are you sure she’s coming?”

“You tell me,” Luciano murmured. “You hacked into Burke’s computer and saw the guest list.”

“She was on it, but that doesn’t mean she’ll be here it. Check the tracker,” Teddy said.

With his phone in hand, Luciano tapped on the app. After Teddy couldn’t find out anything about her, he’d attached a tracker to her vehicle.

Did these silent enemies expect Luciano to do nothing?

A charge of energy bolted through him. “She’s here,” Luciano murmured, still eyeing the tracker.

“It’s go-time, baybeeee!” Teddy exclaimed.

Several guests in the back row craned around. One woman shot him a dirty look. “Shhhh!”

A growl rolled from Teddy. He hated—fucking hated—to be challenged on anything. The woman flicked her gaze at Luciano and he shot her a smile. The corners of her mouth curled up and her tight shoulders dropped back down.

“She’s cute,” Teddy whispered.

“Go for it,” Luciano said.

Teddy shook his head. “I’m working.”

Luciano appreciated that his baby brother took his job seriously. Teddy was amongst a few Luciano could trust.

“Once I find her, you can go have fun,” Luciano murmured.

Teddy shot him a grin. “There’s my motivation.”

Hugging the wall, Teddy walked toward the front while Luciano shifted his attention to the performers, their guttural grunts and groans filling the air with sensuous sounds. As they cried out through their collective orgasms, Luciano scanned the room again, but couldn’t locate his target in the darkened space.

Teddy returned, shook his head, then turned his full attention on the show.

When the performers finished their real or fake climaxes, the curtain dropped and the lights brightened, casting a reddish glow on the audience. Most guests rose, but a few remained in their cushioned seats making out. Two rows up, one woman pulled up her skirt and mounted a very-ready guy in the chair next to her.

Monkey see, monkey do.

Maybe I’ve become too damn uptight. It’s just fucking.

Burke’s wife Morticia sidled over. Like her husband, she’d put on weight since the last time he’d seen her. After he kissed her cheeks, she clasped his hands and squeezed.

“Hot, hot Mr. Santini. Please tell me tonight’s my very lucky night.”

Despite Morticia’s short silk nightgown that left little to the imagination, Luciano wasn’t tempted. He wasn’t screwing another man’s wife. Even if she’d been unattached, he wasn’t screwing her. She didn’t rev his motor… or any other part of him.

He held out the Santini shopping bag.

She batted her ultra-long faux lashes as him, laid her hand over her breast. “For meeee?”

He chuffed out a laugh. When surprise flashed in her eyes, he realized she wasn’t being playful. She was coming on to him.

“A little something for the lovely hostess,” he said.

She accepted the gift, pulled out the red tissue paper, and extracted the black negligée laced in small rows of diamonds that flanked the side slit.

Her scream sent a bolt of energy charging through him.

“What the fuck,” Teddy blurted, but Morticia was too busy jumping up and down, her giant implants flopping out of her nightgown.

Then, Teddy started laughing and Luciano knew he was screwed. Teddy’s laugh was infectious. Trying to control himself, Luciano snickered as Teddy escaped into the crowd.

“A Santini Original!” Morticia threw her arms around him. “This is super thoughtful of you. I have got to introduce you to my best girl! You two will hit it off, for sure. And her boobs are bigger than mine.”

No thanks.

Someone slinked by, and he glanced over Morticia’s shoulder. A hit of energy powered through him.

Gotcha.

Up close, Simone Redding was stunning. Layered brown hair with chestnut highlights, pulled into a high ponytail, leaving wavy strands framing her face. Electric-green eyes shone bright from behind her black mask while her heart-shaped lips had him biting back a groan.

Her sexy mouth around my cock would be so damn good.

And she was tall. Had to be six feet in heels. Nothing sexier than a beautiful, long-legged woman.

As he’d expected, her clothing was nondescript and unflattering. But he was a self-admitted garment snob. Running Santini International—one of the world’s premier fashion houses—had done that to him. Clothing was meant to accentuate the good, hide the bad. It was designed to augment a person’s personality, maybe even create one.

Her white shirt didn’t cling, but it wasn’t baggy either. It was simply boring. Though her tight, black skirt showed off her ass, it was her shapely legs that snagged his attention.

Stop .

To his surprise, she hadn’t seen him… or if she had, she was playing things chill as she disappeared into the crowd. Either way, it was his turn to pursue her .

“Whew,” Morticia said, regaining his attention. “That was a long-winded explanation as to why this stunning gift means so much to me.”

Luciano offered a polite nod, having missed what Morticia had just said. Simone Redding had taken him off his game.

Get it together, Santini.

“I’m sure you think we should sell the house,” Morticia continued.

Dammit .

He had no idea what she was talking about. “Would that relieve your anxiety?”

Morticia pushed onto her toes, leaned close. “We’re in debt up to my tits. Credit cards are maxed out. The house has a second mortgage… as big as my boobs!” She laughed.

Luciano was not about to talk finances in the middle of a kink party. “What does your wealth manager say?”

“He agrees with me. Sell the house, pay off the debt.”

He kissed one cheek, then the other. “You’re a smart woman. You’ll do the right thing.” He flashed a smile before taking off into the crowd.

As Luciano weaved his way through the partygoers, he eyed the closed door in the corner. Behind it was a large room where guests could talk, play, screw, whatever. On the other hand, if they wanted privacy, they could retreat into a bedroom on the second floor.

Regardless of the fancy digs, it was one big fuck fest.

He spotted his brother chatting it up with three women. A smile ghosted Luciano’s face. He hoped his brother was about to get laid… times three.

Not seeing his target, he made his way to the corner door and entered the room. The smell of sex tornadoed through him, and his senses came alive. A half-naked couple hurried by, eager to have some carnal fun. Strolling around the room, Luciano took in the sights. Beyond the obvious gyrations of naked bodies, the cacophony of moans and groans made him growl. Sex soothed the demons that haunted him, but the sex high never lasted long.

While he’d done a background check on Simone—learning very little—he knew nothing about why she was at the private party. Was she there to play? To watch? Was she there for work? He was at an unusual disadvantage.

“Oh, fuck me harder,” a woman cried out while her partner thrust into her.

Luciano kept moving through the spacious room.

She’s not here.

He exited, swept his gaze over the rows of cushioned chairs, but she wasn’t there either. Up the stairs he went. A woman with long auburn hair caught his eye, but when she turned—not Simone.

He walked the first floor, then took the stairs to the second. He’d be damn pissed if she’d left. Like the rest of the home, the hallway was bathed in more red lights. Most of the bedroom doors were shut, but three remained opened.

He entered the first one. Empty. In the second room, two women were fooling around on the bed while a masked man watched from a corner chair.

“You’re welcome to stay, man,” said the guy.

“I’m good,” Luciano replied.

“Hey, I know you,” said one of the women. “I’d recognize you anywhere. You’re somebody famous. Wait, don’t tell me.” She stared at him. “I know! You’re Luciano Santini!”

She pushed off the bed, picked up a garment, and held it out. It was from his Demure collection.

“You have excellent taste,” he said.

“Pleeeease stay,” she begged. “I’d love to say I fucked you.”

He walked up to her, tipped her chin with his index finger, leaned down and dropped a light kiss on her lips. “I’m meeting someone.” With a wink, he walked to the doorway, tossed the man a nod, and left.

As he made his way toward the third and final open door, his phone buzzed with a text from Teddy.

I’m going upstairs to play

Enjoy

Luciano strolled into the room.

An unmasked woman sat in the corner chair, the red lights illuminating her face in a smoldering glow. His heart pumped faster.

It’s her.

He shut the door behind him. His mark had set the trap and he’d walked right into it. She sat still, like a cat about to pounce on its prey.

“Ms. Redding,” he said.

“Mr. Santini,” she replied.

The timbre of her voice sent desire trailing down his spine. Sexy, soft, and filled with so much promise.

“Have I kept you waiting long?” he asked, before removing his mask.

For over a month, he’d seen her from a distance only. Now, mere feet away, the pull to go to her was strong. Very strong. But he had more control than that and he stood his ground. She’d been tailing him… he would force her to make that first move.

“How do you know I’m waiting for you ?” she asked.

Nice .

She pushed effortlessly out of the winged chair. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

His gaze dropped slowly. She’s got a killer body.

Stopping a foot away, she hitched a hand on her hip and drilled him with an unblinking stare. Simone Redding was drop-dead gorgeous.

“You’ve been watching me from a distance for over a month,” he said. “Time for a closer look-see.”

Her laugh filled him with a lightness he hadn’t felt in a long time. She took one more step, then tilted her head. “You’re taller in person.”

He had come to the party to find out why she’d been tailing him. But the change in her breathing—though subtle—was throwing him off his game.

But not off balance.

He trusted scant few. Better to count her as an enemy until he had all the facts. And even then, he still wouldn’t trust her.

She slinked right up to him, lifted her beautiful face toward his, and pinned him with a heated stare. “And much more muscular.”

Her baseline scent wafted in his direction. She smelled of lust.

“Why have you been tailing me?” he growled, desire coursing through him.

He hated the control she exhibited. Hated that she’d barely uttered a word. She hadn’t apologized for stalking him, hadn’t even admitted to it. She was eye-fucking him in a way that stripped him bare… and he loved it.

Fucking loved it.

Her breathing thundered in his ears, but when a moan slithered from her sensual mouth, he snaked his arms around her waist. Their lips came together in a kiss that felt more like an attack than an embrace. She pressed herself close, slipped one hand into his hair while the other wrapped around his shoulder.

On a groan, she pressed her hungry tongue into his mouth and unleashed a torrent of energy into him. Normally one to take the lead, he liked her aggression, liked how she took him hostage in her arms.

Between kisses, she said, “Grab my ass.”

If he did, he’d have her on the bed in a second. Naked in five, and buried deep inside her moments after that.

In one fluid move, he grabbed her ponytail, slowed the kiss, and pulled her off him.

Panting, she stared into his eyes. “Are you here to talk?” She heaved in a deep breath. “Or fuck?”

His hardened shaft pressed against his boxer briefs, eager to break free and root inside her. Forcing himself to gain control, he released her, but he didn’t step away. Now, inches apart, he waited while her jagged breath returned to normal.

“Aren’t I doing it for you?” she asked.

He placed her hand over his hardened cock.

“That’s your dick talking,” she said matter-of-factly. “What do you say?”

Leaning down, he nibbled her earlobe, then bit it. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re stalking me?”

She smiled. “I like pain, and I have a very high threshold.”

“Mmm, good to know.”

“I’m not following you, but I can see how someone with your massive—” she rubbed his hard shaft— “ ego would think that.”

Luciano was done playing word games. She wasn’t going to answer him and he wasn’t about to walk. There was no way he would get the same satisfaction from his damn hand. Not when someone this intense and this beautiful was this ready to screw.

“How ‘bout I fuck the answer out of you?” he proposed.

“How about we just fuck?” she replied.

SIMONE

Simone Redding—Red to her friends—was a ball of fire. A volcano coiled to erupt. Inches away from Luciano Santini was a very different experience than watching him from afar with binos.

Holy hell.

Normally chill, she was quivering with pent-up desire. Logic had flown out the window. If she had a modicum of sanity, she would walk away, drive straight home, and pretend their chance encounter had never happened.

But this was no chance encounter and it was happening. He’d turned the tables on her, cornering her at her one hedonistic escape.

Hooking up with Luciano Santino sounded like a sinfully perfect way to spend an hour… or several. As she stared into the eyes of the devil himself, he flashed her a wicked smile.

Do it.

She grasped his shirt, tugged him close, and kissed him. Hard. He slithered his arm around her, pulled her tight against him, and slid his tongue inside her mouth with a sweeping motion. The gentle way he kissed her was in sharp contrast to the possessive way he held her.

And she loved it.

Then, he placed his other hand on the small of her back, just above her ass, and locked her into place. Trapped, she released a groan so gritty she didn’t recognize her own voice. She pressed her tongue against his, tasting this sinful man for a second time.

Damn, he tastes good.

She pressed her hands against his pecs and was rewarded with bulging muscles straining against his white dress shirt. In one swift move, she slid her hands under the suit jacket and onto his shoulders, forcing him out of his garment.

“Nice,” he murmured. “I like a woman who strips me naked.”

As she unbuttoned his dress shirt, she stared into his eyes while his steely gaze never left hers. Her heart was pounding, her breathing fast and shallow, and her insides wet with desire.

She was loving every single second with a man she shouldn’t be within fifty feet of.

After tugging his shirt out of his pants, she finished unfastening each button before raking her fingers down his hard pecs. The red-lit room bathed him in a seductive glow, but it was the heat from his perfectly-sculpted torso that had her pressing her mouth against his skin. Her eyes fluttered closed and she kissed his chest, then kissed him again. Soft skin over hard muscles. But she returned her gaze to his strikingly handsome face while she unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and let them drop.

She massaged his shaft, trapped beneath his black boxer briefs, then before she could check herself, she slipped her hands inside the material, pulling it over his cock, and letting it pool at his ankles.

His breath hitched, once, and she bit back a smile. Maybe, just maybe, she was having an effect on him, but he was impossible to read… beyond his jutting cock.

She wrapped her fingers around his shaft. His thick, stiff rod sent a moan ripping from her chest. Her insides were pulsing hard, her pussy desperate for his touch, but it was the fire in his eyes that made her wild with need.

“If I suck you—” she murmured.

“I’ll come.”

“Been a while?”

“You’re very sexy.”

“Are you clean?” she asked.

He ran the back of his hand down her cheek, and she inhaled a jagged breath. “I’m clean.”

She knelt at his feet, stared up at him. The need to take him in her mouth, to taste his juices had taken control of her senses. She had to have him, something she would regret in the light of day.

But he’d stepped into her world. Here, the only thing that mattered was consent. She would deal with reality when the day dawned.

Taking the smooth head of his cock into her mouth sent streaks of white-hot energy soaring through her. She ran her tongue over his skin and was rewarded with a salty sampling and a throaty moan.

“You feel fantastic,” he said.

A groan ripped from her throat as she pushed him in deeper while cradling his balls in her hand. Her insides were throbbing hard, the desire to take him inside her had her sucking him with a ferocity she’d never known. Hard and fast, over and over again.

In this moment, she held the power, and she was unleashing it all on him.

“Jesus,” he bit out as his fingers sunk into her hair. “So fucking good.”

Luciano Santini was a big boy, but she pressed him farther back, until he choked her with his thick, hard rod. Then, she dragged him over her lips while curling her tongue around the oozing head.

“I’m gonna come so hard. Pull off if you?—”

She didn’t want to take him out. She needed to taste every last drop of him and swallow him down. Drunk on his essence, she massaged his shaft while bobbing wildly on the head. And she hadn’t stopped cradling his tightening balls with her other hand.

Her reward?

Him, roaring through his massive orgasm while he released himself into her.

When he finished, she slowed to a stop, and pulled off him. With a firm touch, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her with a wildness that left her gasping for air.

Being with him was wrong, swallowing him down was a dirty little pleasure she hadn’t done in years. And she loved every minute she was spending with someone she shouldn’t even be speaking to.

So much for following protocol.

His ringing phone interrupted their lusty moment with the reality that the outside world still existed. He silenced it, toed off his shoe boots, and stepped out of his pants. With his fiery gaze drilling into hers, he unfastened her shirt’s buttons, slowly revealing her breasts. She pulled it off her shoulders, letting it tumble to the floor.

Bare chested, she felt comfortable topless. While her breasts were smaller than most, she had great ones. And she loved her large nipples which, at the moment, stood very erect. Couldn’t miss those high beams, even in a dense fog on a stormy night.

Luciano caressed her chest, running his fingers over the swell of one breast, then the other, before teasing her hard nips with his thumb.

“You’re a naughty woman, Simone,” he growled before latching onto her nipple and sucking.

Desire throbbed through her and her eyes fluttered closed. Forcing them open, she watched as he expertly licked and tongued one nipple, then the other. His gritty groans charged through her, each landing between her legs. Eager to touch him, she sunk her fingers into his thick, almost jet-black hair, and a whisper-soft sigh escaped her throat.

He’s total male perfection.

While sucking her nipple, he reached around, unzipped her skirt, sending it plummeting to the floor. His fingers skimmed her exposed pussy, and she trembled with excitement. Wearing only stilettos, she heaved in a slow, deep breath, hoping to calm her palpitating heart.

“Please,” she murmured.

He lifted her in his arms, laid her on the bed. One panty-searing kiss had her writhing beneath him. Pausing, he stared into her eyes, and this random hookup turned a little too intimate for her. As he kissed his way down her heated body, hit after hit of glorious pleasure had her moaning on every breath. When he settled with his face between her legs, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Nothing sexier than a gorgeous man feasting on her.

Nothing.

And Luciano Santini was as hot as it got. She ought to know. She’d been tailing him nonstop for weeks.

His penetrating gaze stole her breath. “Bellisima.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“First, I ravage you with my mouth,” he murmured. “Then, we fuck.”

“Yessss,” she hissed.

Luciano pressed his mouth to her pussy and licked her soaking wet opening. Mini explosions powered through her, but when he slid a finger inside her, she cried out.

“So fucking good,” she groaned.

His phone rang as the bedroom door burst open. In the red-lit hallway stood his brother, Theodore Santini. Known nicknames: Teddy and Tank.

Fuck. Fuck me.

“We gotta go,” Teddy blurted before he regarded her. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Luciano pushed off the bed. “What’s going on?”

“Dulles,” Teddy replied.

“Five minutes,” Luciano said.

“I only need two,” Simone blurted.

“It’s urgent,” Teddy insisted.

Luciano kissed her cheek, then the other. “I have to go.”

In seconds, he’d pulled on his boxers and pants, collected his shirt and suit jacket before following Teddy out. At the door, he turned back. “I’m sorry.”

After he shut the door, she murmured, “You owe me an orgasm.”

Frustration had her pushing off the bed. As she dressed, she knew that karma wasn’t just a bitch, it was the universe’s way of reminding her that she should never, ever get close to a mark.

While she could have stayed to watch the second live performance or she could have found another willing partner, she was done. Down the stairs and out the front door. The October breeze cooled her still-heated skin. Pulling out the ponytail holder, she ran her fingers through her long, wavy hair.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” she asked herself as she slid behind the wheel of her SUV.

I got caught up in the cyclone that’s Luciano Santini.

As she drove toward home, she vowed, “Never again.” But she wondered if she’d be able to keep her distance. She’d had a taste of him and she wanted another.

Not to mention he owes me one.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Without a doubt, she would definitely be interested in collecting on that.