6. Eli
6
ELI
I stare at my phone. This could not have gone worse, and obviously Noah is angry. He knew what he was getting into, though. He knew I wasn’t going to be his boyfriend, at least not openly. So why does his iciness hurt so damn much? I could call him anyway and try to explain, but what good would that do? What would I tell him? That I really want to be with him, and even though I never can, I still want him, but I feel really bad about it? Distance is probably the best thing for both of us. I just hope that Noah has much more self-control than I do, because if he calls me I’ll pick up. I won’t be able to resist him.
This is all so fucked up. I’ve always felt a certain kind of way about the expectations of being a Carbone, but I’ve never felt this trapped. What’s the big deal anyway? Maybe I should just roll with it and see what happens. Maybe I should just tell them I’m falling in love with a man who isn’t rich and connected, a man who cares about me as a person, not just as a Carbone. I’m sure that will go over well in this world of arranged marriages and political mafia bullshit.
I realize that I’ve been staring at my phone for about twenty minutes straight. I’m hoping he’ll call me, but I’m also scared to death that he will. I toss the phone onto the nightstand in my room at the frat house. I don’t stay here often, but for some reason I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be. Well, that’s not true, but Noah’s apartment isn’t an option right now.
My phone buzzes on the table and I practically dive for it. But it’s just Sasha Moretti confirming our fucking date tomorrow night. I throw the phone back down, disgusted with myself. What kind of hapless sap have I become, sitting here staring at a fucking phone hoping he’ll call? My phone buzzes again, but this time I pointedly ignore it. I try to convince myself it’s because I don’t care, rather than I’m afraid of the disappointment of it not being Noah.
It buzzes again, a phone call this time. I finally glance over at the screen and see my uncle’s face on the caller ID. Fuck. I pick it up.
“Uncle Gianni, how are you?” I say through clenched teeth. I know better than to ignore his calls.
“I’m well, Eli. How are your classes?” he asks cordially, though we both know he doesn’t give two shits.
“They’re good. What can I do for you?” I ask, dreading the answer.
“I heard you spoke with Sasha about tomorrow night,” he says.
“Yes, I did,” I answer warily.
“Good. You two should spend more time together. I need to know that you’re a good fit before we move forward with any family negotiations,” he says.
“Of course,” I answer despite my growing nausea.
“However, that’s not why I called,” he continues, and my heart does a backflip.
“I’m listening,” I say.
“Meet me at the house in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Good.” He ends the call and I take a deep breath.
I don’t know what he wants, but I do know that there’s a substantial deal coming through the harbor soon, and Gianni has expressed interest in me taking over some of the shipping contracts, which is something I would’ve jumped at the opportunity for only a few days ago. Now I just have a sinking feeling in my stomach. But Gianni Carbone isn’t someone I can refuse.
I get up and get dressed in a smart navy suit and tie. My father would kill me if I ever showed up to the Carbone estate in anything less formal. I glance at my phone for a second and contemplate texting Noah, but I think better of it and shove it into my pocket. I do my best to avoid everyone as I make my way out of the house. My mind is already spinning; I don’t need any more distractions.
A few minutes later I’m standing in front of both my father and my uncle at the Carbone estate. Uncle Gianni is sitting at his desk with a tumbler of scotch and a massive cigar that’s thankfully unlit. Unlike most of the men in my family, the smell of those things makes me want to vomit. My father sits in an overstuffed chair in front of him, but I wait until I’m given permission before taking a seat.
“Good to see you, son,” my father says, and I acknowledge him with a nod.
“Good man, Eli,” Uncle Gianni says in greeting. “I’m glad you made it up here.” As if I had a choice.
“Of course, uncle,” I say, keeping my voice even. My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it. It buzzes again. Both of them glare at me, but I continue to ignore it.
“Do you need to check that?” my uncle asks, his eyes narrowed on me.
“I’m sure it can wait. It’s probably just one of the fraternity brothers.”
“Or your friend, Noah…what was it? Andriotta?” my father says.
“Yes, that’s correct,” I answer, my pulse spiking. I wish they weren’t taking such an interest in him. It’s my fault for bringing him to not one, but two family events. How could I be so stupid?
“Let’s get to why I asked you here,” Uncle Gianni says, thankfully discouraging any more questions about Noah, though my fingers itch to see if the messages are from him. As though the universe is trying to torment me, my phone buzzes again. My uncle furrows his brows, but continues. “There’s a shipment coming in from Moscow through our Greek channels, and I want you to be there to oversee it tomorrow night.”
I narrow my eyes at him. He’s already mentioned my “date” tomorrow, so I doubt he wants me to miss that.
“Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to make sure Sasha Moretti gets home safely. The shipment won’t arrive until midnight. I’ve assigned you a team to make sure it’s all unloaded quickly,” Gianni continues.
“Why do I need to be there?” I ask. The manual labor is usually handled by the more distant relatives.
“Two reasons,” my father answers for him. “One, we want you to become recognizable to the dockworkers and security, like your cousins are.” My father trains his gaze on me. “And two, some of these shipments have been turning up a little…light, and we want to know why.”
“Do you have an idea of what I should be looking out for?” I ask. Uncle Gianni finally gestures for me to take a seat.
“Maybe,” he says as I sit in a chair identical to the one my father is occupying.
The next half hour is spent covering logistics and theories about who might be stealing our product. The Carbones have figured out a way to smuggle in rare-earth metals so that the Russians can avoid tariffs and customs. Often there are even less legal things in the containers: pharmaceuticals, weapons, occasionally even immigrants. Though I’m told that these women come to the United States by choice, I can’t help but wonder how much of a choice they really have.
When I’m finally able to leave, I can’t get my emotions under control. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to have anything to do with any of this, which is something I’ve never felt before. This feeling is simply not acceptable as a Carbone. I have a hundred cousins and second cousins and other extended relatives who would literally kill to be in my position. So why am I so bent over this? I finally glance at my phone, and my heart sinks even more. Of course the messages weren’t from Noah. It was Reese asking about something for the frat. I shake my head and drive to my secret apartment. It’ll be a good place to hide for a while.
* * *
The next evening I’m clenching my teeth just to get through dinner at Moretti’s. Sasha’s not a horrible person, but she absolutely buys into her lifestyle. She carries herself like she’s some sort of royalty, and I know I’m a giant hypocrite for judging her for it. But I don’t care. She has no right to act like she’s doing me a favor by showing up for this “date” I never wanted.
Apparently, she has plenty of clout among the Morettis. All of the wait staff bend to her demands and treat her with deference. I can’t help but wonder if that’s what Noah sees when he’s with me. If so, it’s not nearly as impressive as I once thought. I check my phone for about the three-thousandth time tonight. I still haven’t heard from him.
As the evening wears on, she finishes a bottle of expensive Merlot, which only makes her even more obnoxious. As ten o’clock approaches, I try to wrap up the night, but she makes it difficult.
“Why don’t we take this back to my apartment?” she asks me as she bats her lashes.
“Sorry, Sasha, I have business to attend to tonight,” I say. She leans against me as we walk toward the door.
“Are you really turning down an overnight invitation from Sasha Moretti?” she asks. I may be an arrogant ass sometimes, but at least I never talk about myself in the third person. I struggle not to roll my eyes.
“Maybe another time, yeah?” I say as I usher her into the passenger seat of my car.
“Well, I might just have to call someone else, then,” she says in a weirdly playful manner. Does she really expect me to be jealous? She pulls out her phone and wags it at me, but I just close her door. Once I reach the other side of the car, she’s pouting in the seat with her arms folded.
“Sasha, I told you, I have family business tonight,” I say, fighting to keep my composure.
“Yeah, whatever, family.” She pouts and looks pointedly out her window. I don’t respond as I start driving toward her apartment. She only lives a couple blocks away from Noah, though the apartment her family rents for her is much bigger. We pull up to her building and I put the Bentley in park.
Being a gentleman is expected of me, and I can’t imagine the repercussions of allowing Sasha Moretti to walk across the parking lot alone, so I get out and walk around to open her door. She doesn’t look at me as we climb the outside stairs to her apartment.
“Goodnight, Sasha,” I say, and turn away from her.
“Wait,” she says, fumbling with her keys.
I make the mistake of turning back to her. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me. It’s wet and drunk and sloppy and it takes all I have not to shove her through the door. She tries to shove her tongue into my mouth, but I manage to disentangle myself before she can take it any further.
“I have to go, Sasha,” I say firmly, pushing her arms back down to her sides.
“Of course you do,” she says, her eyes full of venom. “I’ve heard you’re not even interested in women and nothing I have seen tonight counteracts that rumor.”
My eyes tighten, but I let it slide.
“You probably can’t even get it up for me, anyway,” she says as she leans against her door. I can’t tell if this is supposed to be some sort of challenge or what. Anger mixed with revulsion flares through me, and I press her into her door. Her eyes grow wide for an instant, but then she grabs my coat and pulls me against her. She kisses me again, and before I can react she shoves her hand down the front of my pants. My cock hardens at the touch, but I pull away from her.
She drags her eyes up and down my body and pulls her bottom lip through her teeth as her eyes come to rest on the bulge in my pants. “Maybe I’m wrong,” she says with a grin, and tries to pull me closer to her again. I pull back and press her shoulders against her door.
“I have to go,” I say. My traitorous body responds to the proximity, and I immediately flash back to Noah shoving me against a door like this. I shove the thoughts out of my mind, though my body responds and of course, Sasha notices.
“You’ll be back,” Sasha says with a wink, and turns to open her door. Once it’s shut behind her, I make my way back to my car. My dick is still pressing against my pants because no matter how hard I try to shut it down, I keep thinking about Noah and how he feels when he’s inside me. How it feels to wrap my lips around his cock. How hard he makes me come when he demands I call out his name.
Against my better judgment, I turn toward his apartment. He hasn’t tried to contact me and I have to get to the docks, but I have to see him. I have to talk to him. I pull up to his building and get out of my car. The Bentley is quite conspicuous here, but I don’t care right now. I press the call button for his apartment, but he doesn’t answer. His car, a very dull Toyota Camry, is in its space, which means he must be home. I press the button again. Nothing. I shake my head and take a step back to look up at his window.
“Eli?” I hear his voice directly in front of me. I jerk my head down to see him pushing through the doors. “What are you doing here? Is everything alright?”
My flailing mind struggles to catch up with me. No, no I’m not alright. I have to fight not to embrace him right here in front of anyone who could be watching. I glance at my phone—I have less than an hour before I need to be at the docks. Dammit.
“Are you going somewhere?” I ask, and then my brain comes to a screeching halt as I notice what he’s wearing. Soft sweatpants outline the muscles in his legs and the bulge of his dick, and a tight silky T-shirt leaves nothing about his chest and torso to the imagination. My dick twitches in anticipation.
“I couldn’t sleep. I was going for a run,” he says as he takes a step closer to me. Concern is written all over his face, but as he gets closer it morphs into something else.
“At midnight?” I ask incredulously, and watch as his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.
“Yeah, at midnight,” he says through clenched teeth. “Is that a problem?”
“Looks more like you’re going to meet up with someone,” I say. I don’t know why; it’s like something just broke inside me. His whole body tenses.
“Looks like you already did,” he shoots back, and I glance at my reflection in the double doors. Shit, I look like hell. Lipstick is smeared across half my face and the front of my shirt is untucked. I look like I just rolled out of some woman’s bed. My shoulders droop and I finally gather what’s left of my senses. I glance at my phone again.
“I’m sorry, Noah,” I say without looking at him.
“For what?” he asks. His voice is tight and his fists are clenched.
“Can you ride with me? I can explain,” I say. I look up at him. His eyes are narrowed as they search my face.
“Where are you going?” he asks. His body is still tightly coiled, and I’m suddenly very afraid that I’ve fucked up completely.
“I…I have to be at the docks in about forty minutes,” I answer quickly. “Please, just come with me so we can talk.”
He looks at me, his dark eyes assessing as they rove over me. My heart starts pounding as the minutes drag on. I don’t know how I’ll react if he says no.
“Noah, I’m…I’m a mess. Just come with me,” I say again. I’m practically begging this man for attention. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Okay,” he says, and my heart skips a beat.
“Okay?” I ask, making sure I heard him correctly.
“Okay, let’s go,” he says, and takes a step toward my car.
I struggle to keep a stupid fucking grin off my face as I walk to the driver’s side and slide into my seat. We’re barely out of the parking lot before all my emotions bubble over and I start talking. I tell him about the awful date with Sasha and her unwelcome advances. Thankfully his shoulders finally start to relax as I explain the mussed clothes and lipstick. Then I proceed to tell him about everything I’ve felt about the family—about having to hide who I am, and how I feel so trapped.
“Why don’t you leave, Eli?” Noah asks me, and the question feels so simple, so innocent.
“It’s not that simple, Noah. I can’t just walk away,” I answer as I pull up to the docks.
“I guess I just don’t understand,” he mutters, mostly to himself.
“It’s complicated,” I say as I shut off the car and turn to him. “I really shouldn’t have brought you here. If my uncle finds out he’ll kill us both.” The gravity of the situation starts to weigh on me.
“What do you need me to do?” Noah asks as he takes my hand.
“Wait here for me, and try to stay out of sight,” I say, and bring his fingers to my lips.
He nods and I glance at the clock. I need to be in there in less than five minutes. I’m cutting this way too close.
“I’ll be back soon,” I say, then step out of the car before I can change my mind. My uncle might shoot us both if he knew I brought Noah here, but my death will be much slower and more painful if I don’t show at all. I see Noah press his lips together as he sinks down into the seat. This was so stupid, but I’m here now and I just have to go with it.
I weave my way through the maze of containers until I get to the one that belongs to the Carbones. Several of my cousins are already there with hand trucks, ready to load the cargo onto several larger box trucks. I step up to speak to the security guard who’s questioning my waiting men. I straighten my shoulders and put on an air of confidence as I approach.
“You must be Officer Riley,” I say, putting out my hand. “I’m Eli Carbone.”
“Mr. Carbone,” he says. “I was expecting someone older.” He looks me up and down, but I don’t flinch. I’ve been trained for these interactions my whole life.
“Most people do,” I answer, and drop his hand. “We’ve got this from here.” I jerk my head to let him know he needs to find somewhere else to be. He presses his lips together, but takes the cue and leaves. I go up to the container and take the manifest, looking over it before cutting through the seal on the doors. I open them and quickly scan what’s inside.
It takes almost an hour to unload the cargo, but from what I can tell there’s nothing missing, which only solidifies Uncle Gianni’s theory that someone in our family has been skimming the cargo. That’s not good for us. It means he’s going to get a whole lot tighter with security now, but that’s tomorrow’s problem. Right now I just want to get back to Noah.
I make my way back to the Bentley. Thankfully I can’t see anything through the tinted windows, though that momentarily makes me panic that he’s left. I open the door, startling Noah out of his doze in the passenger seat.
“You’re back?” he asks, his voice thick from sleep.
“Yeah, I’m done. For tonight, anyway,” I say, and place my hand on his thigh. His soft sweats feel nice above his hard muscle.
“Noah, I’m sorry about tonight,” I say. He rolls his shoulders and turns toward me.
“There’s nothing to apologize for, Eli,” he says, scrubbing his face with his hand. For some reason, I believe he means it. “I’ve been a mess since yesterday, too, or the day before. What time is it, anyway?”
“Almost two,” I say with a chuckle.
“I think we may both be in a bit over our heads here,” Noah says. My heart plummets. He’s about to tell me to fuck off, I can feel it, but I don’t know if I can.
“What should we do?” I ask. Even if he wants me to, I won’t be able to stay away from him. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to, at this point. He takes my hand in his and drags it up his thigh before bringing my fingers to his lips. I can see his dick getting hard in his sweatpants—they really leave nothing to the imagination. He brushes his lips against my fingers, and I’m already hard. I release his hand and trace my thumb across his lips. He parts them for me, and my breath catches.
He reaches across the car and touches my face. Before I can think better of it, my lips crash into his, my hands roaming the lines of his chest. His cock is at full attention, straining the integrity of his sweatpants. I slide my hand beneath his waistband and wrap my fingers around his girth. His dick is hard as steel in my grip, and I almost come in my pants as he gasps for air.
Headlights flash across my windshield and my muscles freeze. Without thinking, Noah hits the lever on his seat and drops it backward, out of view of the oncoming car. I almost fall back with him, but manage to catch myself. Once I’m able to catch my breath again, I look at him. His dick is still hard and peeking out of the top of his sweatpants.
“My apartment is like two blocks from here,” I say with a grin.
“I don’t know if I’ll make it,” Noah breathes.
I pull the car over to the garage next to my building. We fight to keep our hands off each other as we climb the stairs to my apartment. As soon as the door is closed behind us, Noah has me in a vise-like grip, bruising my lips with his. We stumble over to the bed and fall on top of each other, throwing our clothes off as we go. Noah leans over me, kissing me harder than he ever has before.
“I can’t stand the thought of someone else with you,” Noah breathes as he kisses down my neck. I know I shouldn’t enjoy his jealousy this much, but my dick gets painfully hard at his words. He settles himself between my legs so that my cock is pressed against his stomach. I roll my hips into him as he kisses and licks across my chest. He takes my nipple in his teeth and bites almost hard enough to draw blood. I press my cock harder into him.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he murmurs against me as his lips trail down my abdomen. I’m so close that I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back much longer. I grab the lube from the nightstand as he lifts my legs over his shoulders. He snatches it from me and douses himself and his hands with it, then reaches down and caresses my ass, shoving two fingers roughly inside. The pain is intense, but so fucking good. He starts stroking my cock as he pulses his fingers inside me. I struggle to hold myself back.
“Not yet, Eli,” Noah says with a wicked grin. I fight with everything I have not to come all over his hand.
He removes his fingers and starts stroking himself, making sure he’s coated with oil. My legs stretch as he lifts me higher and settles over me.
“Tell me what you want, Eli,” Noah says. The need to come is painful, but he shakes his head. “Not yet.” He rolls his hips against me. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you, Noah,” I gasp. “I want you to fuck me. I want you to lose control.”
Something flashes in his eyes at those words, and he slides his cock inside me, stretching me and making me see stars.
“Harder,” I gasp. He draws back and slams into me again. I cry out.
“Tell me you’re mine,” Noah commands, and I can’t help myself.
“I’m yours, Noah,” I growl. “Now fuck me like you mean it.”
He draws back and plunges into me again. He takes my dick in his hands and starts stroking me in time with his thrusts. Within seconds I’m coming, spurting hot juices all over both of us. With a cry he thrusts once more and I can feel him spilling inside me. He pumps with each ejaculation and my mind goes hazy. My lips are throbbing and swollen and we’re covered in sticky semen, and I’ve never felt so alive.