Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
~NADIA~
“ I want to be with you,” he murmurs as those talented lips take a slow journey down my neck to my shoulder. His hands skim down my arms, over my naked torso, and down to my ass, still covered in denim.
He squeezes, and my core clenches in response. But before I can say anything, his hands grip my thighs, and he lifts me like I weigh nothing. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he carries me to the dining room table.
“I want to kiss you.” He unfastens my jeans, and I lift my ass so he can guide them over my hips and down my legs.
The underwear follows, and I’m left lying naked and spread wide for him.
I expect him to dive right in, wrap his lips around me and take me for one hell of a ride.
But to my surprise, that’s not what he does at all.
His fingertips barely brush my skin, sending goosebumps all over me.
“You’re so fucking soft,” he whispers before kissing my inner thigh. “So damn responsive. God, you’re getting wetter by the second.”
“Come on, Carmine. You’re killing me here.”
He just shakes his head and continues taunting me, teasing me. His touch is gentle, his kisses wet and carefully placed over my already heated skin.
I arch my back, wanting nothing more than to have him fuck me hard on this table. What’s with the gentle shit?
Sex is impatient. Fast and dirty.
It’s not this.
“Carmine,” I breathe when his fingers brush over my most intimate lips. “Jesus, don’t be such a tease.”
He chuckles and licks up my stomach to my navel and then farther to the underside of my small breasts.
Who knew that little spot was so damn sensitive?
“You’re killing me.”
“Just relax,” he croons. His voice is thick and sounds like melted chocolate. Full of lazy lust and affection, and it does something to me.
Something I don’t recognize—or particularly feel comfortable with.
My throat closes, and my core clenches when his lips drag up over one already perky nipple. I don’t know what this is. My already raw emotions are even more on the surface, and I don’t like it. I don’t want to feel vulnerable with him.
“Damn it, Carmine, you’re going too slow. Just fuck me already!”
He stills, pulls his hands back, and raises his head to look down at me. “That’s not what I’m doing here, Nadia.”
“What are you doing?”
My breasts rise and fall with my breaths, coming faster now. What is all of this emotion ?
“I don’t have to spell it out for you.”
“Yeah, I think you do. You have me tied in knots here. Just do it already. What’s wrong with you?”
His eyes narrow, and if I’m not mistaken, he looks hurt. But before I can say anything, he quickly unfastens his slacks and pushes into me, hard.
“Is this what you want?” he demands and then slams into me again. And again. “You just want me to fuck you?”
I grip onto the edge of the table and hold on tight, but he suddenly stops and swears under his breath.
“Goddamn it.”
“Carmine.”
“Just give me a second.” He shakes his head, and I can see despair there. Confusion. So, I sit up and take his face in my hands. “A few months ago, I would have simply fucked you until you walked wrong and been content with that. But that’s not where we are anymore, Nadia.”
I frown as he kisses the palm of my hand. “Carmine, we’re enjoying each other. Having a good time together.”
“Yeah, we are, but it’s more than that. And if you say it’s not, that you don’t have any feelings for me beyond that, you’re lying.”
I bite my lip and feel my eyes fill. And that just pisses me off.
“Don’t cry, baby.”
“I’m not.” I clear my throat.
“I can’t just fuck you and then go on with my day. Not anymore. I feel more than that, and I’ll be damned if I continue denying it—if that’s what you’re asking me to do.”
“I don’t know what I’m asking.”
“Why is this so hard for you?” He brushes his thumb over my lower lip, his eyes following the movement.
I want to give in to my feelings for him. I want to fall in love with him.
“Of course, I have feelings for you. Maybe tender sex just isn’t my thing.”
“You’re not a great liar.”
“I’m an amazing liar,” I disagree and narrow my eyes. “But maybe I’m not lying about that.”
“You are. Tell me why you don’t want to be vulnerable with me like this. Jesus, Nadia, we’ve been honest with each other about so many things over the past few months. We’ve seen a lot and been through more. Why does this level of intimacy scare you?”
I shake my head. I don’t want to admit that I’m scared, and I hate him for putting me in this position. Why can’t we go back to it being simple?
Why do I find it so hard to do this?
“What if I get my heart set on something that isn’t possible?”
There. I said it out loud.
The look in Carmine’s brown eyes softens, and he tips his forehead against mine. “We don’t know that it’s impossible.”
“We don’t know that it’s not,” I say and hear the tremble in my voice. “Falling in love with you, really falling in love, was never part of the plan.”
“No. It wasn’t.” He kisses me gently. “I hated your guts for a long, long time, Nadia. I wanted to make you hurt. Wanted to make your whole family pay.”
I frown. “Well, that’s one way to make me feel all warm and fuzzy.”
“Smartass.” He smiles and kisses my nose. “But then I spent time with you, learned who you are. And I know that not only are you not the one I should hate, but I respect the hell out of you. You’re going to make one hell of a Bratva boss one day.”
My mouth just opens and closes in surprise. I’ve never felt more naked. Exposed. Not just physically but emotionally, as well.
He’s still inside me, and he just stripped my emotions bare.
“I want that,” I whisper.
“I know. And you deserve it. But even more than that, I’ve grown quite fond of the woman you are. One who enjoys sweets and can kick ass. Who isn’t afraid to ask for help when she needs it. A woman who spends more money than some people make in a year on a used handbag.”
“You really need to get over that.”
He laughs and finally starts to move, slowly, in and out of me.
“You’re everything,” he says. It sounds so simple but carries so much weight. And all I can do is show him how I feel because I can’t say the words.
I just can’t.
I brush my fingers through his hair and kiss his shoulder as he slowly makes love to me. And after I have the craziest climax of my life, he carries me to the bedroom.
“We aren’t done yet.”
“You may not be, pal, but I’m exhausted.”
He chuckles and kisses my cheek. “We’ll wake you up again.”
Okay, so there’s something to be said for making love.
I’ve never done it before.
I feel energized the next morning. Satisfied. And oddly…sentimental.
I’m not an overly romantic girl. Damn him for digging his way under my skin when I wasn’t looking and making me get all used to him.
“Here we are,” Carmine says as our taxi stops next to the entrance of the cemetery. He takes my hand, and we walk over to the towering iron gates.
“This place is huge,” I say as I look at a map. “We might be here awhile.”
“We have all day.”
We walk inside, up a short hill, and then all I can do is stand and gape. The cemetery is enormous. The headstones are old and different, and I can’t wait to check them all out.
“Let’s go this way and then check out the mausoleums last,” I suggest.
“Lead the way,” he says, gesturing with his arm. He’s dressed casually today in a black T-shirt and cargo shorts, and he makes my mouth water.
How can a man look like that in a shirt and have it be legal?
I have no idea.
I’m in a simple red sundress today because it’s summer in Paris and it’s warm. Thankfully, I also have a good-sized crossbody bag that holds my concealed carry, and I have a smaller piece tied to my thigh.
Yes, we’re on vacation, but you can never be too careful. I saw Carmine slip his handgun into a holster in the waistband of his shorts, above his impressive ass.
“It just goes on and on,” I say and point out a statue. “That headstone looks like a woman weeping, and she’s holding the hand of someone in a jail cell.”
“This whole place is a work of art,” he says.
“I hope this isn’t boring for you.”
“Not at all.” He takes my hand in his and kisses my knuckles. “It’s fascinating. And I’m with you. How could I be bored?”
“Good point.” I wink at him and then glance over my shoulder. It looks like someone is watching us.
I do a double-take, and the person is gone.
Huh. I must just be on edge today. My emotions are all over the place, and I’m keyed up. That’s all.
Nothing to worry about.
“Okay, this is…interesting.” I stop next to a large concrete casket covered in moss. But coming out of the top are two arms with the hands touching, as if two people are buried here, holding hands even in death.
“I don’t think I want to be buried like that,” Carmine says thoughtfully.
“You don’t think it’s romantic?”
He glances down at me. “Do you?”
“I don’t know. It’s kind of macabre, but it’s also kind of sweet.”
We wander around some more and see the graves of Chopin, Oscar Wilde, and other artists. The memorials are absolutely stunning.
Then we turn a corner, and behind a chain-link fence is the grave of Jim Morrison.
“It’s a shame they had to close it off because of vandals,” I say. “But still cool to see.”
“Do you like The Doors?”
“Sure.” I shrug and glance back.
The same man is there again.
“I think?—”
“Yep, I saw him. We’ll find a more private spot and confront him.”
I nod and, hand in hand, we walk down a road in the cemetery that looks as if it belongs in New Orleans with beautiful aboveground mausoleums.
“These are beautiful.”
“It’s amazing how different every part of the cemetery is.”
“I agree.”
I glance back but don’t see the man following us any longer. But just as we turn a corner, he walks out from behind a crypt, a knife in his hand.
“Get in here,” he hisses. “Now. Don’t make a scene.”
Carmine squeezes my hand, and we follow him into an open mausoleum. We slip inside, and he shuts the door.
“Who the hell are you?” Carmine asks, but the man strikes out with the knife, and I take out his knee.
He crumples to the ground, but he lashes out with the blade again.
Carmine punches him, then picks him up and holds him by the collar. “Who the fuck are you?”
“You’re going to die today,” the man growls, but before he can wave the knife again, I bend his hand back and take it from him, then press my gun to his head.
“Answer the damn question.”
His eyes jitter back and forth between Carmine and me.
“You’re not exactly discreet,” Carmine says, his voice perfectly calm but hard as stone. “Either you wanted us to see you, or you’re shitty at this job.”
“Fuck you.”
“I don’t think so.” Carmine knees him in the stomach, sending him to the ground once more, wheezing. We circle him slowly.
“Who sent you?”
“I’m not telling you shit. ”
I smile sweetly and squat next to him. “Oh, yeah, you are. Because if you don’t, you won’t leave this place alive. You’ll spend all of eternity here with the…”—I check the name on the crypt next to me—“the Bettencourts. I’m sure they’re nice people. And there’s plenty of room here for you. You like to snuggle with corpses, don’t you? I mean, they’ve been here since…”
I recheck the tomb.
“Since 1928. They’re probably nice and decayed by now.”
He looks green; like he’s about to throw up.
“I won’t ask nicely again,” Carmine says.
“Richard hired me to follow you,” he snaps. “I’ve been tailing you since you were in Denver. I’m just supposed to keep an eye on you and report back.”
My gaze flies to Carmine’s, and I stand to talk to him.
“How does he not know that Rich is dead?” I murmur.
Carmine shakes his head and then looks down at the man and curses. “Are you…”—he waves his hands around—“ crying ?”
The man is just sitting there, weeping.
“There’s no crying in the mafia.”
“Why are you quoting movie lines?”
He turns to me. “Because there’s no crying. He’s crying.”
“Yes, I know.”
We both turn back to him and swear.
“Fucking hell.”
He’s already seizing, foaming at the mouth. “He took a pill.”
“He’d rather die than give information,” Carmine agrees, and we watch until he stops jerking.
“What now? We can’t leave him like this. Someone will find him. A groundskeeper or someone.”
“We do what you suggested. Open that crypt and put him in there with the nice Battencourts.”
I raise a brow. “Ew.”
“I’ll do it.”
“No, I’ll help.” First, I poke my head out the door to make sure we haven’t drawn a crowd. That would be uncomfortable.
But no one is even about.
“It’s clear.”
Carmine nods and opens the tomb. We both look down at the man.
“Wow, he looks good for being dead for almost one hundred years.”
“The embalming did its job,” Carmine agrees. “Nice suit, too.”
“Well, this is a nice mausoleum. They had money.” We turn back to our stiff. Carmine grabs his shoulders, and I take his feet, and we maneuver him into the burial chamber. “He just fits.”
“No one will find him for a long time.” We close the lid and have to push down for it to settle. “If ever.”
“I don’t get it.” I straighten my dress and return my gun to its leg holster. Carmine picks up the knife and wipes it free of prints, then opens the other crypt. I walk over to look. “His wife.”
“She doesn’t look as good as he does.”
The skin on her face is mostly gone, leaving her teeth showing. I check the date.
“She’s been dead twenty years longer. They didn’t embalm then.”
He tosses the knife in with her and closes the top.
“You know the most interesting things, sweetheart. You were saying?”
“I don’t get it,” I continue. “He didn’t know that Rich was dead. It wasn’t a secret. You and I were at the funeral. If he was following us like he said, he would have seen us there.”
“Maybe he was off work that day,” Carmine says with a shrug and walks over to the door. “I don’t really care. He’s not following us now.”
He opens the metal gate, and we step out, much to the surprise of a young couple currently walking around through the cemetery.
“Oops.” I grin and wipe my mouth, then wink up at Carmine. “Finally checked that one off the bucket list.”
Carmine laughs and pulls me away, just as the young woman gasps.
“Never a dull moment with you, is there?”
“Nope. And you’re welcome.”