Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Saff
I had myself convinced that I was all good on the desire front as I slipped into the navy blue sheath dress to go to Soren’s office.
With its knee-length skirt, high bodice, and uncomfortable cap sleeves, I felt surprisingly unsexy, despite the tight material.
In fact, I was so distracted by the weird, scratchy material as I rode the elevator up toward Soren’s office that I wasn’t even thinking about the man himself.
The only plus to the outfit, as far as I was concerned, was the fact that I got to wear blue ballet flats instead of heels.
“Miss Amato,” Teresa greeted me as I was tugging at the neck of my dress that felt like it was choking me, even though it wasn’t even close to a turtleneck.
“Sorry. This material is awful,” I confessed. “It has absolutely no give.”
“I prefer separates myself,” Teresa admitted. “They tend to be more comfortable during a long shift.”
“I don’t know how you do those heels all day.”
“Oh, you’d have to pry my heels off my cold, dead body,” Teresa admitted. “I heard that the young girls these days are wearing sneakers to the club. Can you imagine? Mr. Vale is in the conference room. Your attorney arrived just before you. Can I bring you coffee?”
“I don’t know if this dress will stretch enough to let me drink it, but please.”
I made my way toward the conference room, still annoyed by the dress.
Until I stepped into the doorway.
And Soren’s gaze cut to mine.
I became so aware of each inch of me that I suddenly felt naked as his eyes tracked down me, then slowly back up.
Slowly, he rose to his feet.
Then, when neither of the lawyers—and whoever the third guy was—moved to follow, he barked out a quick, “Stand.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” I said, holding up a hand. But it was too late. The men were already on their feet.
I wouldn’t admit it aloud, but it was kind of hot how he made them stand and show me a little respect. I was so used to fighting for that.
“Sorry I’m late,” I said, going toward the empty seat at the side of my attorney. Which thankfully put him between me and Soren.
Who’d managed, with just one look to undo all the ‘stress relief’ I’d gotten over the past three days from a fun alien sex book and a battery-operated boyfriend.
“You’re right on time,” Soren said as Teresa came in with a tray of coffees. “Ready to make this official?”
“Yes.” If nothing else, it would get Renzo off my back. Once things were all finalized, even if something went really sour with me and Soren, we were locked in. He would have nothing to worry about.
The next half an hour or so involved both lawyers going over the same paperwork we’d already discussed in length, then passing papers around for us to sign, initial, and date.
By the time it was done, the stacks looked like one of those thick romantasy books Renzo’s wife, Lore, was always reading.
“Congratulations,” Soren’s lawyer, Mitchell something-or-other, said. “You’re in business.”
“I will have my assistant get this scanned and copies printed out for you,” my attorney said, giving me a nod, then making his way out.
He was just some random guy Bass had picked out based on reviews online, since everyone agreed that linking a mafia lawyer to the legit business that we would be washing our money through was a bad idea. Especially if this new AUSA really was breathing down the family’s back like Renzo said.
“Mr. Vale,” Mitchell said, nodding a bit to his client. “Miss Amato.”
With that, he followed my attorney out.
“God, does your hand hurt too?” I asked, flexing mine.
“I’m used to it at this point,” he said. “Things are going to move fast from this point on,” he told me. “With the project,” he added, his lips quirking up.
“Of course with the project,” I said, chin lifting. “What else would you be talking about?”
He ignored that.
“I am going to have a few crews over at the building tomorrow.”
“Doing what?”
“Getting rid of the rats—and any other pests if they find them.”
“I better not hear you let anyone hurt any pigeons if they’re there.”
“You have a soft spot for pigeons?”
“We failed them.”
“Failed them?”
“We domesticated them. Brought them down from the rocky cliffs that they were native to to keep them in cages in cities. Then used them for their flying skills. And then when we didn’t need them anymore, we just… tossed them out like garbage. It’s not their fault that they hang around us. They rely on us, since they are no longer anywhere near their native area.”
“Do you have pet birds?”
“No. I mean, I would maybe take in a pigeon if I found one that needed a home. But no.”
“Then why the passion about them? Humans have been cruel to animals since the dawn of time.”
“I saw some asshole kick one once. Killed it.” I went ahead and left out the part where I’d almost killed him for it. “And I dunno. I was so upset about it that I started to look into why so many people hate pigeons. Read a few books. Watched a lot of videos. And that’s when I learned about what we did to them. I, uh, actually feed the pigeons in the park near my apartment.”
I hauled fifty-pound birdseed bags to my apartment every two weeks to always have on hand for those trips. It was the closest I got to a gym routine.
“With all the old ladies?” Soren asked, a smile warm enough to make his eyes look all gooey.
“Hey, those old ladies are a good time. I met one once who confessed to killing her first husband.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. We can’t judge her too hard. She said he was always knocking her around. So she slipped a little belladonna in his nightcap. And she got to play the grieving widow, sell the house, and move to the city like she always wanted to. Then she married four more times.”
“Four?” Soren asked, looking suspicious.
“I know what you’re thinking. But she claims they all died of natural causes. Though, come to think of it, there was a strange look in her eye when she said the last one died.”
“How’d he die?”
“Stepped in front of a bus. Though, looking back, she never mentioned him stepping out in front of the bus. Maybe she pushed him.”
“And who would suspect the little old lady?”
“The perfect crime. Twice. I kind of have even more respect for her now.”
“So, to earn your respect, someone has to murder. Twice.”
“It certainly would help to bump you up toward the top of my list.”
“You know, I have a particularly annoying neighbor…”
I was determined not to be charmed by him.
But a little laugh bubbled up and burst out.
“How would you do it?” I asked.
“Stuff the harmonica he is always playing down his throat,” Soren said, smiling.
“Who plays the harmonica?”
“The spoiled grown child of two investment bankers who is desperate to come off as some fun beatnik who wasn’t raised in a twelve-million-dollar mansion in the Hamptons.”
“It’s no longer cool to be rich, I guess.”
“Shame for us, because our net worth is about to skyrocket.”
“You think it’s going to be that successful?”
“You don’t?”
“Well, I have no idea what to expect. Nightclubs are new for me.”
“Don’t take offense to this, but I wouldn’t even consider taking on a partner if I didn’t think this was going to be a wildly successful venture,” he told me as we started to walk out toward the elevator.
“I get that. I don’t play well with others,” I said as we moved into the elevator car.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Soren said as the doors slid closed.
Shit.
Why had I gotten in the elevator with him?
Things had been going so well.
No line crossing.
Even some fun, easy banter.
No flirting.
“Soren…” I said, hearing the pleading in my voice. And I honestly couldn’t tell you what I was begging for. For him to keep things professional. Or for him to throw all the rules out the window and kiss me again.
“Hm?” he asked, reaching out to press the button that had the car jerking to a stop between floors. “Soren, what?” he asked, stepping closer, towering over me as I pressed back against the wall.
My chest felt tight, like he was sucking up all the air in the enclosed space.
“Do this?” he asked, his hand sliding up the side of my thigh, hip, waist, breast. “Or this?” he went on, his hand moving inward to tease over one of the swells, making my nipple harden and press against the material.
Taking that as a silent encouragement, his thumb moved out, teasing around the point, making my head fall back as my breath shuddered out of me.
“Or maybe this?” he asked, taking advantage of my upturned head to lean down and press a kiss to the pulse point in my neck.
A soft whimper escaped me as my belly flip-flopped.
His tongue teased out, sliding upward, making a shiver rack my system.
“Or this?” he asked, teeth snagging my earlobe and giving a small tug as his thumb and forefinger twisted my nipple lightly through the material of my dress.
“Or did you mean to leave you alone?” he asked.
Then he was suddenly releasing me and walking over toward the far end of the car, eyes heated, smile devilish.
But he didn’t get to bask in his effortless control over me for long.
Already too needy to care about the consequences, I rushed across the car, reaching up, grabbing his tie, and yanking him down until my lips claimed his.
A rumble of approval moved through him. His arm slid around my lower back, hauling me against him as my lips grew harder, hungrier.
My hands slid up, wrapping around the back of his neck, crushing my chest to his.
For a long moment, he just held me.
But it wasn’t long before his hands started to roam down my back, then sank into my ass, using it to drag me more firmly against him.
A throaty whimper escaped me at the feel of his hardness pressing against me.
Soren’s hands started to gather my skirt, pulling it upward. My skin prickled, and it was impossible to tell if it was the chill or the heat of my desire.
I expected, as my skirt gathered around my waist, that his hand would shift down, slip between my thighs, tease me like he’d done at my office.
But as soon as my skirt was out of the way, he whipped around, pressing me back against the wall, then going down on his knees before me.
My breath caught.
At the change.
In anticipation.
But, perhaps more so, at the look of pure… veneration on his face. Like there was nowhere else in the world he wanted to be but down on his knees, worshipping me.
A delicious swooping sensation moved through me as I looked down at him.
Keeping his gaze on me, his hand slid up my thigh, grabbing the material of my panties, then slowly lowering them down.
I stepped out of them without thinking about it, unable to focus on anything but the look in his dark eyes as he reached for my knee, lifting it up.
Turning his head, but keeping eye contact, he pressed a kiss to the inside of my knee before sliding it over his shoulder.
My insides felt like they were trembling as he finally broke the eye contact as his head ducked.
His warm breath whispered across my skin and his soft hair tickled my thighs as he moved closer.
A shudder moved through me as his tongue teased up my cleft.
My hand moved out, slipping into his silky hair, holding him against me as his tongue found my clit and started to move gently around it.
Everything about him was slow, soft, patient. Like there was nowhere he’d rather be and nothing he’d rather be doing than pleasing me.
The part of me that had never known such reverence from a man before—especially not intimately—wanted to stay lost in the sensations, in the sweetness. But there was no reasoning with my desire as it grew, as it became clawing and desperate.
My fingers tightened in his hair as my hips rocked against his mouth.
“Soren…” I whimpered, feeling that telltale tightening, that airless sensation as my muscles tensed.
Knowing how close I was, Soren’s tongue kept that same perfect pace. Until, with a slow, deep pulse, the orgasm worked through me. The waves pulled me under again and again, a deep, hard, pulsing pleasure that had my whole body shaking.
I gasped for breath when the climax finally released its grip on me.
But Soren surprised me by not moving away.
His tongue moved away from my too-sensitive clit, but kept lavishing over me—sliding up and down my cleft, tasting, teasing.
It seemed impossible, but it wasn’t long before my body started to climb once again, the need drifting from a sweet fluttering to a clawing need once again.
My hips rocked, and needy little whimpers escaped me.
Soren moved lower, curling his tongue, and slipping it inside me, thrusting lazily for a moment before shifting back up, then sucking hard on my clit.
The sound that escaped me then was half gasp, half groan as my fingers tightened on his hair.
Soren’s fingers slid inside me, making my head fall back against the wall again, a long, deep moan escaping me.
His fingers were slow and deep, until my hips were rocking and my fingers were tugging his hair.
They twisted inside me, stroking against my top wall as his tongue worked my clit once again.
The more I rocked and pulled, the more insistent his fingers and tongue became.
Until the orgasm shot suddenly through me, making me cry out as the pleasure overwhelmed me.
I don’t know how long the climax had a grip on me, but when I finally came back down, I was breathless and shaking.
Soren’s head shifted, planting a sweet kiss on one thigh, then the next.
He made his way up to his feet, tugging down my skirt as he went.
His arm shot out, hitting the button to make the elevator move once again.
Only then did he lean in close by my ear, rattling off an address.
“What?” I asked as the car stopped at the lobby.
“My address,” he said, pressing his lips to mine—hard and deep, but over far too quickly. “You want more, darlin’, you know where to find me.”
With that, he turned and moved in front of the doors as they slid open.
He tucked something into his pocket.
And it wasn’t until he was walking away that I knew what it was.
My panties.
The doors started to close, making me throw out a hand to stop them. I didn’t feel ready to trust my legs to carry me out to the street. But I forced myself to move.
By the time I made it out onto the sidewalk, Soren was long gone.
I threw up a hand, flagging down a cab because there was no way I was going to walk and take the subway back to Brooklyn in a dress without panties.
All the ride, Soren’s address flashed endlessly across my mind.
I wasn’t going to go.
But as I stripped out of the godawful dress, I wanted nothing more than to show up at his doorstep.
Instead, I got changed, grabbed a knife and some brass knuckles, deciding to distract myself by going around town and hitting up everyone who was late on their payments to the family.