Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
NICO
T his wasn’t part of the plan. She looks so irresistible and opens her mouth. Then she let out a soul-tingling sigh, and considering that she doesn’t run the hell away when I tell her who I used to be, I feel an overwhelming need her. I keep leaning closer, growing hungrier. She moans, her breath caressing my face.
“Nico,” she whispers, and somehow, she makes my name sound like stop .
“I know.”
Obviously, I don’t. I press my mouth against my niece’s lips. She doesn’t kiss me back for a moment. For a moment, I’m taking her, owning her. Then I feel the tension melt away from her. She puts her hand on my wrist and begins to guide me up her leg . I open my mouth, letting my tongue find hers, feeling her juicy thickness as I get closer to her haven.
My rod has never been harder. My lust has never burned brighter. I didn’t think it could burn this hot. As soon as it’s over, I know I’ll regret this. I didn’t bring her out here for this. But when I press my hand down between her legs, she opens her mouth and moans.
“You need to tell me to stop. Right now.” I shift my hand up and down outside the fabric of her pants. I’m sure I can feel her wetness through the material, feel her folds swollen with lust, and even her needy nub. “Tell me you want nothing to do with a barbarian like me. Tell me you’re too pure. That I’m a goddamn bastared for doing this to my niece.”
“Is that… my… responsibility?” she gasps, her hips moving in time with my touch. It's almost as if she’s doing it reflexively, like some deep need inside her is chasing pleasure.
She’s asked the perfect question. No. Of course, it’s not hers. It’s mine. I’m older. I’m married. She doesn’t know the marriage is a sham—I’m putting her in the position of being involved in an affair, betraying her aunt. But that doesn’t stop me. I move my hand faster, applying more pressure, moaning, kissing, and biting her again.
She pushes her hands against my chest. At first, I think it’s because she wants me to stop. But her muffled moans and her fingernails digging into my pecs tell a different story. She drags her nails down my chest, then grips my sides and smooths her arms around me.
I’m rubbing her pants so fast now, pumping my arm up and down?—
Bang-bang . Somebody pounds on the window.
I flinch, spin, shove the door open, and spring out, ready for battle. There’s a moment when I almost assault a police officer. She stands a few feet back, her hand near her hip, looking at me like I’m insane. Terror is evident on her face. She’s probably not much older than Arria.
“You can’t park here,” she says, her hand trembling.
I force a smile onto my face. “Sorry, you startled me. I’ve worked a long shift today. I was sleeping.”
“You can’t sleep here, either.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll move right away, Officer.”
“Are those tints regulation?”
“Yes, officer. I’ve got the paperwork if you want to see it.”
This is a bluff. The tints aren’t regulation, and I’m not even sure there’s paperwork to verify the fact, but she seems relieved to let the issue go. “Just move it along.”
“Yes, Officer, thank you. Sorry if I overreacted.”
She turns and walks away. I close the back door, glad she didn’t look inside and see Arria. The likelihood that she’d recognize me or my niece is low considering her age, but Carusos have dealt with the cops for as long as I can remember. It’s a reminder of how careless that was.
In the driver’s seat, I start the car and pull out of the alleyway. Arria adjusts her clothes and stares out of the window. Her cheeks and her lips are flushed red. She looks so sexy, so vivacious.
Neither of us says anything for a long time. I feel like I’ve taken advantage, though she doesn’t look at me or make any comment to give me that impression.
“It’s probably a good thing we got interrupted,” I mutter. “We don’t need to make this more complicated.”
“Nobody told you to kiss me,” she replies. “But you’re right. The simpler we keep this, the better.”
“You don’t need to get involved with somebody like me. You need a boyfriend your own age, from your own world. Not a?—”
“A savior?” she interrupts. “I know you don’t like that nickname, but thinking about it, isn’t that sort of a miracle? That you could exist in Enzo’s world—he’s clearly a creep—and get a nickname based on how good you are?”
“Maybe it is,” I tell her. “But being good in that world and being good aren’t the same. I’m just glad you know what’s at stake now.”
“Can I tell my parents? What if somebody comes after them?”
“They won’t.” In fact, her parents already know about the situation. Part of me wonders if they should have told her the truth. But I figure Rocco is determined to keep his daughter in the dark about his work with mafia.
“How can you know that?” She asks.
“Trust me, remember?”
“Oh, right, blind trust.” She rolls her eyes.
“Stop that. You’re like one of your emojis.”
A smile penetrates the angry mask she’s wearing. “One of my emojis? I didn’t invent them, you know.”
“Old men like me don’t use them.”
I mean for it to come out in a good-natured, self-deprecating way, but it comes out almost self-pityingly. Pathetic.
“Don’t call yourself an old man ,” she snaps. “You’re not even forty, are you?”
“In a few months, I will be.”
“Still, that’s not old.”
“It’s nineteen years older than twenty-one.”
“Oh, so you’re a math whizz, too?” She says, full of sass.
Somehow, I laugh. Despite everything. After a pause, she laughs with me. We look at each other in the rearview mirror, not needing to say anything to know what we’re both thinking. It’s surreal and ridiculous that we’re able to laugh right now. But we can. I guess that means something. Then I feel even stupider for letting myself think anything means a damn thing. The only thing that matters is keeping her safe.
We both stop laughing. I might be projecting, but I’m sure she feels as guilty as I do. She rubs her hands up and down her legs. That nervous motion again, but my mind thinks differently. I can still feel her wetness. My rod is still stiff, and her taste is still on my lips. At least the interruption stopped us from going too far, all the way, which I’m sure I would’ve done. The interruption was the only thing that could have stopped me.
What about her? Would she have gone all the way—let me pull down her pants, reveal her thick, meaty thighs, kiss up to her soaked haven, and lick up and down her swollen, horny-as-fuck lips? If I had lavished her needy nub with attention, would she have moaned and begged for more, then let me slip my finger inside to prepare her for my hungry cock? Would she have…?
I forcibly tug my thoughts away from there.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“I’m fine,” I grunt.
“I can’t promise not to tell my parents something, at least,” she says. “I know you want it to be that way, Nico. But what if they decide to mess with Mom or Dad? What if Mom’s at the store and some mobster walks up to her, and she doesn’t know who he is or has no frame of reference? What if those guys trick them? I can’t just leave them in the dark. You couldn’t leave me in the dark.”
Goddamn it. I don’t know how to reply to this. It’s not as if she’s speaking nonsense. Everything she’s just said makes complete sense. She’s got the right to protect her parents—but they already know . I can’t tell her that without getting in the middle of a family drama that has nothing to do with me. But if does she tells them, she’ll be opening a can of worms.
“Arria,” I say. “This will not make any sense, but trust me, please, I promise. Your parents are not in danger. You’re most likely not even in danger. I’m just being overly cautious. It’s in my nature. I wouldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to you.”
She bites her lush lip, which reminds me of the kiss and makes me ache for another one. She looks introspective, serious, and mature. She has so many shades and moods, so many versions of her. I’m becoming obsessed. That’s a problem. I need to remedy it. I need to stop thinking about her.
“You’re not making any sense.”
“But it’s true,” I tell her. “I promise. I swear. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
She folds her arms, pushing her tits together. There I go again, fantasizing about my niece. It’s like I can’t stop. It comes far too easily. The hunger she ignites in me is feral. I’m an animal around her. “I’m lying to you,” she murmurs.
“About what?”
She stares out the window again. “You’ve been honest with me about your mafia work. I know that couldn’t have been easy. But telling me that, you knew it couldn’t hurt me. But what if I had a secret that could hurt you ?”
“What is it?” I say, aware my tone has become fierce, almost the same one I used during my nightmare days when I would interrogate people.
She curls her wild hair around her finger. Everything she does is fascinating to me—enthralling. I can’t look away, which is a problem while driving. It takes an effort to keep my eyes on the road. “I…” She hesitates, closes her mouth, and lets out a breathy sigh that reminds me of her pleasure-filled moan. “Before, when we were kissing, I let you touch me. I was getting all hot and heavy. But I was lying to you, in a way, because I’m a virgin, Nico. I’ve never even had a boyfriend. In fact, that was my first kiss.” She laughs, but not really. It’s more like a surreal acknowledgment, a comment on our situation. “My first-ever kiss was with my uncle.”