Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
G aetano
This woman. I swear to god, she’s too smart for her own good. Bianca has gone ghost. Feeling guilty about the things I said to get her to go home, I sent her a text to confirm she was in the penthouse. The text bounced back. A check of her phone confirmed she turned it off, meaning I couldn’t track her. She’d driven her SUV into the hotel parking garage on the strip but never went upstairs.
My palm itches at the thought of bending her sweet ass over my knee and giving her the spanking the brat deserves.
Where the fuck is she? I check the cameras in the penthouse for the twentieth time since I got here three hours ago. Then I’m checking the cameras at the casino in old Vegas.
I was relieved when I checked my doorbell camera and saw her SUV was gone. Fighting her was worse than fighting myself. Christ, if I was within arm’s reach of Bianca all I wanted to do was push her ass against the closest flat surface and fuck her hard. The witch knew it and taunted me with it.
There’s no way around it, I can’t let her get close to me. So if I needed to sleep at the hotel on the strip, I am prepared to do whatever it takes not to be alone with her.
The fantasy was better than the real thing. Without experiencing her tight cunt grasping desperately at my cock as I pounded into her, I would never have imagined it would feel as amazing as it did. Until I tasted her frothy come with my tongue, I would never have guessed it would be so very sweet. A fantasy was a dream, there was no way the reality was better than a dream.
The reality was hell. I’d die for that woman. Sex with Bianca was magic, on a different plane than anything I’ve ever experienced. Hell, it wasn’t sex—for the first time in my life, I made love. As close as I am to Sandro, to consider him a brother and be willing to go against what he decreed would mean my life on the line for loving her. And now that I know what I would have… Christ, I don’t trust myself not to do something that will end with me being killed.
Those thoughts followed me into sleep last night. So, of course the whole fucking day since I woke up has been a clusterfuck. I was informed someone was out to kill Sandro. They’ve known about it since yesterday. Sandro only told me now because I was cleared as the one who wanted it done.
Sandro apologized, admitting he wanted to tell me yesterday. However, the ones in power in the Outfit weren’t ready to rule me out until Valdez did. They have a line on someone, but no name yet.
Fear begins to creep in on where Bianca is. Is she all right? Is she hurt? I want to get into the information on her tracker that’s in her tooth. If I do, it will show up on a report that Sandro will definitely see. The trackers were for security as another way of keeping an eye on our people. They could also be used in other ways, so although there were capos who could get into it to find their soldiers, whoever got into it was reported every day.
I can’t take it anymore and call Sandro. “I’m worried about Bianca. No one has seen her. Her SUV wound up back at the hotel on the strip, but no one saw her go in. The cameras don’t reach the area where she parked to see if she got into another car.”
“Fucking hell. Check her tracker.”
I’m in the system in seconds. Relief fills me. “Her body heat is fine. She’s at an address.” I reel it off to him, hoping he knows where the hell it is. He does.
“It’s for the frenemy Kitty that she hasn’t talked to in years. Something had to have happened for her to wind up there.” He sighs.
A call comes through from Jason, the lead pit boss of the casino—there’s trouble. I tell Sandro and end the call.
As I make my way downstairs to deal with it, I tell myself to let Bianca go for one more night. There’s enough time to talk to her before Sandro gets back on Saturday.
Bianca
“Come on, you have to eat something. You haven’t eaten all day.” Kitty sets a plate of pasta with marinara on the table in front of me.
This is the last place I thought I would ever be. Which is why I’m here. I haven’t talked to Kitty in ages. We went a solid year without talking before running into each other on campus, but we barely exchanged more than a hello.
Then we saw each other on Halloween night. She was dating someone from the frat Adam was in. I was shocked when she apologized to me. Especially considering I was the one who slapped her. She explained she ended up in rehab for addiction to speed, it didn’t work. Then she went onto meth before she overdosed on cocaine.
After she got clean, she understood what she did, getting me hooked on it, was wrong of her. I didn’t explain that I took responsibility for it, the same way I didn’t see my brother dealing in cocaine as a horrible thing. It was on the person who took the drugs; all the Outfit did was take advantage of a weakness that was already there. I couldn’t tell her all of that, so I simply accepted her apology.
We ran into each other again the next day at the frat. I was there to pick up my SUV since I had ended up getting a ride home from the car service app I used, as I was too drunk to drive. Both of us were curious about the cop cars around it. Since I was wary of cops, she was the one who went and asked them what was going on. She told me that Adam had committed suicide the previous night. When I freaked out and started crying, she comforted me and dragged me home with her. I stayed with her that day. Then we built a new, timid friendship.
A few bites are all I can manage before I give up on eating.
“Are you really not going to tell me what’s going on? Is it your brother?”
“No, it’s not Sandro. I mean, it kind of is, but not really.” A commercial comes up, and I cringe. “I think I need to run to the store and get one of those.”
“Plan B? Holy shit, were you raped?”
“No, god no. But…” I’m so freaking embarrassed. “I told him that I was on the pill because he didn’t have protection. Except I haven’t taken the pill in months, so…”
“Huh, well, too bad. Plan B won’t work. We’re too fat for it. We need something else. I’m not sure what it is, I just know it isn’t Plan B. So it’s a guy problem and kind of a Sandro problem.” She considers me.
I’m wondering if I should tell her when she speaks again.
“Let me guess, with how protective Sandro is of you, he doesn’t approve of the guy?”
Sheepish, I nod.
“Maybe getting pregnant would be a good thing. You pregnant would mean Sandro had to accept him. He’d probably marry you so Sandro wouldn’t kill him.”
“I don’t know…that feels wrong. Especially when I told him that I was on the pill,” I whisper.
She laughs. “You’re so funny. The pill can fail, too. It’s the reason I’m here, as my mother loves to tell me often. Just like not everyone is aware Plan B won’t work if you’re over a certain weight, the pill fails because of stuff people don’t know about taking it.”
“Seriously?”
“Oh yeah. The pill isn’t foolproof. There are all these things that can make it fail. Like, you have to take it at the same time every day, if you’re on certain antibiotics, if you get sick and miss even one. I know of a handful of girls who got pregnant while on the pill. Hell, I know two girls who got pregnant on the shot.”
As she’s talking, I’m thinking. “Maybe.”
Bianca
I hit reject on the call from Gaetano as I roll off the bed. He really waited until the last minute. It’s Saturday and Sandro is due back in about two hours. My guess is I have ten minutes before he gives in and comes into the penthouse.
In my closet, I find the perfect thing, his silk shirt I stole from him before I left. I step out of the leggings, then remember I have one chance to get this right and remove my panties. I only do three buttons across my stomach.
I go out to wait on the rooftop balcony. It’s beautiful out here. Maybe I’ll have a late-night swim. I love to swim, but don’t do it often. We had a pool at the house I grew up in, and I swam often. Sadly, there was no pool in the hotel in old Vegas.
While Luca told me often that I could use the pool at the hotel here, he meant the pool for guests. I was never confident enough to wear a swimsuit around people. So, it’s been a few years since the last time I swam. I’m not looking forward to buying a new swimsuit.
“Bianca,” Gaetano yells.
Strolling into the penthouse, I find Gaetano with his mouth open, as his hungry eyes roam over me.
“You yelled.” I sigh as I settle on the couch with a plop that has one of my breasts hanging out of the shirt.
He squeezes his eyes tightly shut as he sits down on the loveseat across from me. “Bianca, what in the fuck do you think you're doing?”
I shrug. “Nothing.”
“Go get dressed.” It’s an order.
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?” The words are ice cold, daring me to argue with him.
“No, means I’m dressed. This is what I want to wear. What do you want?”
His jaw tightens. Air escapes him in a slow, measured sigh. “Bianca, we have to be on the same page here. What happened didn't happen?—"
“No,” I work very hard at not letting my anger show. The minute I do, he’ll flatten me.
“What do you mean, no?”
I let out my own slow sigh. “I mean it happened, and there's no changing that. There's no way to undo what was done. So no means no.”
That hard jaw is working. “Are you going to tell your brother?
I consider the question. “If you mean, am I going to run up to him, welcome him back with a hug, and inform him of what happened. The answer is no.”
“Good. Because it can never happen again. Really, never, ever again.” He’s firm.
This idiot. I’m not sure why I love him. Maybe it is a touch of masochism. “You think we're going to go another year, two years, three years, and it's never going to happen again? You’re lying to yourself and you know it. Because I’m only going to give you so long to keep pissing me off before I give up and find a man who wants me no matter what.”
“Good.” He spits out the word. “That’s what you should be doing. Finding someone who is not in the mafia and far away from me. If you're going to tell your brother, let me know, so I have a chance to run.”
I roll my eyes, annoyed. “You're not going to run. By the time he finds out, he won't kill you.”
“What do you mean by the time he finds out ?”
“What I mean,” I push off from the sofa and take three steps to be in front of him. He’s shaking his head. I want to smack him really hard on the back of his head so that maybe something will get sorted out in his mind. “There’s no turning your back on this.”
My hands go down to his shoulders, and I'm pushing him back as I lift one leg to the other side of him. He goes easily. He's been desperate for this moment since he walked into the room, the same as me.
He growls low in his chest. “Jesus Christ,” comes out of him like a swear word. “I can smell your needy pussy wet for me.”
I thought Jesus Christ was supposed to be a prayer. Interesting. I lower my hot, aching pussy to grind against his hard cock. I’m desperate for him inside me.
“Undo your pants, I need you,” I whisper against his ear,
“You are going to be the death of me.” His grip on my hips tighten until I'm positive he's going to leave bruises, and I glory in it. I want his touch all over me. I want anyone who sees my body to know it belonged to Gaetano first.
In a flurry of curse words and clothes, he frees his cock Ah, it's too easy I'm so wet. I find him, and he slips into me so easily, like a hot knife through butter. I slide down on him.
God, how could I have forgotten for even a moment how sizzling hot he feels inside me, so big, so big. Oh, it hurts so good. How can pain become pleasure? I don't understand that. We both moan at the sensation of him pushing into me. We’re skin to skin as I'm seated completely on him. God, it feels like he's in my stomach.
“Do you really think that this will never happen again?” I demand. “That you could deny me or you of how this feels.”
With a groan, he tears the shirt off me. ”Christ, you're so beautiful, so fucking beautiful.”
Seconds later he sucks a puckered nipple inside his wet mouth, sucking until the point of pain, before dropping it and moving to my other needy breast. God, his mouth is driving me crazy. I begin grinding on his cock losing my breath every time his cock glides against my swollen clitoris.
“That’s my greedy girl. You need my cock this bad? How bad do you need it? Tell me, angel.” Black eyes have captured me and sucked me into the dark abyss where there is only us. Only his silky skin covered a thick matte of equally silky chest hair, only his air is my air as he kisses me as though he can’t go a second without our mouths meeting and mating.
“So bad, I need you so much. My pussy has felt so empty without you. I need you inside me, your hard cock molding me to fit you. The plastic silicone is nothing like you?—”
A big hand wraps around my neck and tightens in warning. “You used a vibrator to fuck yourself?”
It’s so fucking wrong to love how angry he is. I shouldn’t be thrilled at the rage burning within him. And I should absolutely not be smiling as I tell him, “I did. And all it did was make me wish it was you.”
“I’m going to destroy it. Do you understand me?” He draws me to within a centimeter of his mouth. “Nothing goes inside you but me. My cock and my tongue—that’s all you fucking get. Do you understand?”
I grind on him clenching around his cock. With a groan, he covers the inch separating us, and his mouth swallows me whole. “Then quit hiding from me. You awakened this need. I don’t want plastic, I want you.”
“Fuck me,” he demands. “Move your pretty ass up and down on my cock. Come on, angel. That’s my good girl. Yes, baby, you are. Fuck me harder with your greedy pussy.”
“Gaetano,” I pant, desperate for air. For his come to fill me full. “Harder, please harder.” I’m begging, I need more, a little more.
His hand works in between us and his thumb finds my clit and rubs. The move has me shooting off the precipice and down, down into the waves. I explode into tiny pieces when I hit the water and float. Seconds later, it hits me—his molten come marking me as his. I’m praying like I haven’t in years that this is the time he gives me his baby. Please, please let this be the time.
I hear the words from low in Gaetano’s chest. I know it's coming. I can't stop it, so I don't even try. His hands are back around my hips, pulling me off him, leaving me to stand on legs that cannot hold me up. I'm back on the couch again.
“Damn it. Bianca,” he growls as he zips up his pants.
I shrug. “Shouldn't you go get ready for when Sandro gets here?”
“This didn’t happen damn it. It can’t happen,” he snarls. “For the love of God, stay away from me. Because birth control or not I’m going to knock your ass up and that’s the last fucking thing we need to deal with.”
Pressing my lips closed, I don't dare reply. When he realizes I'm not going to say anything, He finally leaves.
The smile I didn’t dare let him see tells me I was right, he’s never going to be able to tell me no when it comes to making love. Good to know.