Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
E MERALD
My knee is tucked under my chin from where I sit in the empty chair in our bedroom. Saint has been gone all day, leaving before I even managed to get up. And I miss him. Not just the usual morning wake ups I get—but also him . The warmth of him wrapped around me as he holds me. The smell of him when he ducks back in from the private balcony after a smoke or comes in fresh from the shower.
This is a mess, and it’s supposed to all be fake. But for me? It’s something real.
And I can see the way he looks at me. That flicker of emotion which is gone in a flash. He cares about me in some roundabout way. Otherwise, wouldn’t he have pushed me off onto someone else to play house with?
Progress is slow, but I know I’m starting to knock those walls down. The way he is with the kids. The way he seeks me out at home to actually spend time together. That can’t just be keeping up the act. Can it?
I bite my lip as my other foot skims the hardwood floor. Things with us are good. Surprisingly, so. But letting myself forget that he doesn’t exactly feel the same way is a recipe for disaster.
I hear him before I see him. The distinct footfall down the hall, the way the door opens. It’s late. A lot later than normal, but I knew he’d want to play a game if I was still up. So, here I sit, looking out the window into the beautiful yard now equipped with a jungle gym, as the New York night sky greets me.
“Em?”
“Hey.” I smile, turning toward him. He looks…rough. For a man usually so composed, his mask is slipping more and more around me. Or I’ve just gotten better at reading him. “What’s wrong?”
“Huh?”
“You look…tired.”
The expression on his face morphs into something wicked. “Yeah, well if someone hadn’t kept me up all last night, I’d have gotten my beauty sleep.”
“Me?” I laugh as the memories of it flood me.
“Yeah, you, Miss Can’t Keep Her Hands To Herself.” He moves toward me, that dark gleam in his eyes doing nothing to settle the storm of butterflies in my stomach. Even after weeks of having each other, of getting to taste and experience Saint in the flesh, I still want more. I still need more.
“You’re one to talk.”
“I’m a perfect gentleman.”
I snort a laugh. “You started it last night, and then again a few hours later.”
He’s standing in front of me now. He traps me in the chair with both of his hands on either armrest. His lips brush the shell of my ear, and I suck in a sharp breath. “Is that a complaint? Because I don’t recall you telling me no.” His nose skims along my throat before he places a small kiss behind my ear. “Why are you up so late?”
“Waiting for you.”
“Yeah?” He laughs, and the feel of it against my skin only seems to drive me higher. “Why’s that?”
“Our nightly chess game, remember?”
His head turns toward the reset chessboard. “Okay. One game, then we’ll do something else.”
I roll my eyes, trying to play it off as if I don’t love the thought of that. He pulls back, taking his heat and scent with him. And I fight the urge to pout. “So, you going to tell me why you looked so rough?” I ask as casually as possible as I slide the pawn into position.
“Just…same shit, new day. Your move.”
My eyes drop to the board, but the ache between my legs is hard to ignore.
“Distracted?”
“What? No, I’m fine.” I move my piece forward.
“Yeah? You look a little flushed, Em. Something on your mind?”
“What?” I laugh, trying to focus on the board and not the way his eyes are zeroed in on me or the way they leave a trail of heat with each pass.
“You heard me.”
“I think you need to get your eyes checked. It’s just warm in here.”
The rich, dark laughter that leaves him makes my skin tingle.
I lift my gaze. And it’s a mistake. The brown of his eyes is already swallowed by his pupils. His mouth tilts in that sideways smirk that never fails to make me hot.
“Stand up, Emerald.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve got other plans for you tonight.” The way he slinks toward me is predatory. I scramble up from the chair and take a step back to the bed. He follows.
My heart races as we play this cat and mouse game.
I step back.
He steps forward.
His eyes devouring me until my knees hit the edge of the bed, and I topple backward.
“Would you look at that,” he murmurs, looking down at me, hand cupping my face. His thumb swipes across my lower lip. “Just where I want you.”
The way he says it combined with his thumb on my lip does something to my brain function. Permanently altering it. My lips wrap around his thumb, holding his gaze.
A gruff sound leaves him, and I can’t help but smirk. Looks like he’s not as in control as he thought. My tongue brushes the pad of his thumb as he swallows hard.
“I knew that mouth was good for something, Em…”
The rumble of his voice sends a wave of pleasure through my body. He pulls his thumb from my mouth. His body towers over mine. That spicy scent of his cologne driving all of my senses wild. He tucks my hair behind my ear, his knuckles brushing along the column of my throat.
He looks down at me for a second, eyes roaming before our mouths crash together.
Some heady mix of need and desperation with just a twinge of affection. He leans over me, easing me back into the bed. His rough hands grip the back of my thighs, letting my legs wind around his waist.
My hands sink into the strands of his hair as our bodies mold together, working in unison to get as close as possible.
I remind myself that this isn’t anything romantic. But goddamn does it feel real, even if this is just some physical release of the tension that builds between us all the time. It’s a sexual frustration that just needs release.
My body is sandwiched between him and the plush mattress beneath me, our tongues fighting for dominance as his hand grips my ass. A tortured whimper leaves me when he grinds against me, letting me feel how hard he is already.
Trailing his mouth against the heated skin of my neck and jawline, he licks at that spot beneath my ear that makes my body shudder. “Tell me you want me, Emerald.” He bites a little harder, smoothing over the spot with his tongue to calm the sting. And a strangled sound leaves me, making him groan into my skin. “ Tell me you want me to fuck you, Emerald .”
“You tell me.” But my hard words lose their impact as I literally moan them.
Before my brain can process what’s happening, Saint is hovering over me, his rough touch turning gentle. It never ceases to amaze me how he can go from hard and rough to tender and gentle.
“Yes or no, Emerald.” His fingers play with the hem of my shirt, inching it up and down.
My heart hammering in my chest, my blood burns beneath my skin, making everything hypersensitive. “Yes. But…” I hold his gaze. “Can I?” My fingers toy with his belt.
“Fuck…yes.”
He leans back until he’s standing between my legs at the edge of the bed.
I sit up on my knees, watching him for just a moment. Taking in my feel of this man who’s usually so composed but right now is falling apart piece by piece.
He helps me strip him of his shirt and pants until he’s left standing in front of me in his boxer briefs.
God, this man. Lean muscle and hard angles make up every inch of him.
Holding my gaze, he takes himself out, tightening his fist around the base and giving himself a few languid pumps. I watch mesmerized as his stomach clenches.
“Keep looking at me like that, baby, and this is gonna be over real damn quick.”
I smirk at him. Because I like the power I have over him like this.
His other hand sinks into my hair at the base of my neck, and the other guides his dick toward my mouth. “Tongue out, baby.”
I do as I’m told, and I swirl the tip of my tongue against the head, tasting the salty tang there already.
He hisses, and his fingers in my hair tighten when I wrap my lips around the tip and suck gently. His hand moves deep into my hair. “Fuck, Em.”
The moan is low and loud. And just like that, I lose any ability to wait on his orders. Bracing my hands on the front of his thighs, I lean forward, taking him until he hits the back of my throat.
I swallow back the gag, trying to relax my throat, my eyes watering at the stretch.
A series of curses drip from his lips and echo around the room. His other hand sinks into my hair on the other side as I take over. My hand wraps around the base that doesn’t quite fit and moves it in rhythm with my mouth. I look up at him through my watery lashes, moaning around him.
His head falls back, the muscles in his stomach clench and flex, deep satisfying grunts fill the air as he drives his hips forward, nudging deeper and deeper. “So damn good, baby, so damn good. You’re fucking beautiful like this.”
His thrusts grow rougher, choppier, telling me just how close he’s getting. My hand drags up his thigh to cup his balls, and he’s a goner. “Hell, Em.” His hand tightens almost painfully in my hair, tugging at the strands as he spasms. I relax my throat and swallow everything he gives me, tears leaking from my eyes and my throat raw.
I suck down a deep breath as I wipe the corner of my mouth with my thumb, licking it clean. “Was that enough of a good use of my mouth for you?” I tease.
His laugh is deep, spearing me in a way that makes me feel that flutter in my stomach. I’m not used to him looking at me like that. His eyes are dark and wild. God, does he look beautiful. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” Saint lifts my arms, pulling me back to my feet as he tugs my shirt from my body. “Off. Now.”
“So bossy.”
His fingers pop the button of my jeans as the fabric of my shirt puddles at my feet. He doesn’t waste any time pushing the material from me until I’m left standing in a pile of discarded clothing.
My entire body is thrumming with this frantic, untamed energy. His movements are so controlled, so slow and purposefully meant to torture me. His hands palm my breasts, fingers rolling my nipples as my body leans into him, brushing against him.
“Ask nicely and I’ll take care of that for you,” he murmurs into my ear. “And I’ll do it so good.”
I brush his hands from where they explore my curves, leaving that fire in their wake. I crawl to the middle of the bed, propping myself up against the pillows.
His knees drop to the mattress to follow, but I push my foot into his chest with a shake of my head.
He looks confused, his eyes narrowing as he moves forward. “Don’t play games, Emerald.”
“I thought you liked them?”
The growl that answers me makes me shiver. My fingers slip below the material of my thong, shimmying the fabric down my legs before tossing it at his chest. I can see the muscles in his jaw clench, that hungry predatory look filling his eyes.
His cock is already hard again. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I watch him pause when my legs spread wide, giving him a good look. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he says in a hoarse voice.
I smirk, teasing myself while holding his gaze.
He moves from the bed toward his discarded pants. He bends, pulling out a condom. Tearing the packet, he rolls it onto himself and stalks toward me.
My mouth runs dry.
Crawling slowly toward me, he settles between my thighs and reaches for the pillow to my left. “Hips up,” he orders.
My hips lift of their own accord, and he puts the pillow under the small of my back.
My teasing fingers slow as I forget what I’m supposed to be doing to myself because he’s on his knees between my legs, my gaze sweeping those hard muscles sculpted by the Gods and the thick length of him.
“You want it?”
“Yes.” I almost wince at how needy and breathless I sound, but he’s my sole focus and my sole need. Him and what he’s about to do to me.
Saint leans his body over mine, one arm supporting his weight and the other cradling my head tenderly. I reach between us, lining him up with my entrance, making us both shudder.
“I can be gentle,” he whispers, affectionately nudging my nose with his before he kisses my cheek. “I can be slow and sweet.”
I bite his bottom lip, immediately running my tongue over it. “Next time. I want it however you give it.”
“You’re fucking perfect, Em.”
I squirm against him, desperately trying to dull the ache between my legs. “No, I’m not.”
“You are to me, baby, and I’m the only fucking one who matters.” He holds the side of my head, keeping his mouth against mine as he slides into me.
His mouth slots over mine, swallowing my cry as he stretches me slowly. “You’re mine, baby, all fucking mine .”
Our mingled pants fill the air between us as he slides in and out. Soft moans leave me as he rolls his hips. He pauses, and I whimper. I don’t want slow and tender. I want Saint Veneti as he is.
He smiles down at me, a tender one, that makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world. It makes me feel seen. My nails drag down the muscles of his back, and he groans before I move my hips. I’m more than ready.
He pulls back and thrusts forward again. He’s slow, picking up the pace until all I can feel is him and me and where we connect. Deeper he pushes, and I cry out, digging my nails into his back as I arch off the mattress. “Oh my God…” He kisses along my neck. My legs tighten around him. “Saint…” I breathe out, needing more. I can feel sweat bead down my neck and the valley of my breasts. He’s wound me up so much.
His head falls to my shoulder, where he presses his lips to my skin. He claims my mouth a moment later, a desperate clash as his tongue brands every inch of my mouth with his taste.
That familiar coil in my stomach tightens as I feel I’m getting close. I move beneath him, trying to match his frantic pace with my own. And my breath hitches when he hits that magic spot inside me just fucking perfectly.
In and out. We move against each other, panted breathing filling the air as he moves his mouth over me, tasting every inch of my neck and shoulder he can get. His tongue leaves a hot path before he brings his lips to the shell of my ear. “Come for me, Em. Be a good girl and show me how good I make you feel...”
That’s all it takes. That gravelly timber of his voice in my ear and the way his cock keeps pushing against my G-spot. It’s too much. And my entire body tightens as I cry out his name, my nails sinking deeper so that he hisses.
I can feel my inner walls clenching around him, and his hand slips into my hair as he tightens his fingers, pressing his forehead to mine.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful when you come…”
But I can’t form any words. I can’t speak or even think. He thrusts again, once, twice, before I feel his body tighten beneath my fingers, a primal sound leaving him as he tumbles over that edge with me, and it’s just enough that I shatter again, my first orgasm rolling into a second.
He pants against me before kissing my forehead. And just with that tender act alone, I know I am well and truly fucked in more ways than one.
A squeak of surprise leaves me as he flips me onto my stomach.
“I can’t…Saint…” I moan, feeling blissed out and spent.
He chuckles darkly, kissing my shoulder, and he tugs my hips until my ass is up in the air. “You wanna stop, baby?”
I look over my shoulder at him. And biting my lip, I grin and shake my head.
“That’s what I thought. Grab the headboard,” he commands.
I reach out, grasping between the slats.
“That’s my good girl...”
And my eyes close as I feel him thrust into me again. Yeah...Saint Veneti has me well and truly fucked.
* * *
I’m working behind the bar when Saint arrives for a meeting with Christian.
“Whiskey, please,” he orders.
I give him a sparkling smile as I grab a glass and pour his whiskey—neat because that’s the way he prefers it.
“You going on a break today, Em?”
Before I can reply, a man sidles up to the bar. And my stomach plummets. Because he’s the last person I was expecting to see here.
“Well, well, Emerald. Didn’t expect to see you here.” A man’s leering gaze runs up and down my figure. “Nice dress. You’re doing well for yourself. But then I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
I can tell that Saint immediately recognizes the man in the cheap suit. He’s Enzo Hernandez, my mom’s boyfriend.
“Is there something you need?” I grit out. I’m restraining myself, trying not to make a scene.
I notice Saint’s fists tighten. He knows all about Enzo, and I know he’s had a guy on him, digging up every last detail of his life, including his string of failed businesses, his gambling habit, his drug addiction, and the string of women he kept on the go while leeching off my mom. I just thank God that my mom has seen sense and finally broken up with him.
“The news reached me about your engagement,” Enzo continues in his slimy voice. “I just wanted to offer my congratulations and tell you how happy I am for you. It’s quite an accomplishment for a girl like you, especially with the parents you have. But then I always knew a girl like you would go far.” He extends a limp hand toward Saint. “Enzo Hernandez.”
Saint looks at it with disdain, not even bothering to lower himself to touch his greasy skin. “I know who you are.”
“Great, great. Look, I’ve got an amazing chain of upmarket dance clubs. I’m sure a man as smart as you can see the investment opportunity they present.”
Saint’s lip curls. He knows about his sleazy strip clubs. About how they’re mortgaged to the hilt and barely worth the price of the tacky paper umbrellas he sticks in the stupid cocktails he sells.
He holds out a stained, dog-eared business card to Saint. “I’d love to talk with you sometime soon and show you how you could invest with me and quadruple your money within three months.”
“Yeah, I know all about your businesses,” Saint rumbles.
His chest puffs out.
“About how you exploit desperate underage girls to work in your clubs, and when they try to get out, you blackmail them with videos you’ve secretly taken of them with your customers, threatening to put them up on porn sites and send copies to their families.”
Enzo gives a nervous laugh. “Hey, the little bitches know what they were signing up for. And I can’t help it if the little sluts want to earn some extra money by offering their pussies and assholes to whoever will pay them.”
Saint snorts. “You’re forgetting to mention your guys who pimp them out to your customers and take a cut of the fee for your pocket.”
“It’s a good business model,” he slurs, clearly already wasted despite the early hour.
Saint’s hand twitches by his side. “Let’s get one thing clear, shall we, Enzo? I would never lower myself to do business with a man like you. Although ‘man’ is too generous of a word to describe someone like you.”
And when Enzo realizes Saint’s not interested, he swings his gaze back to me and his eyes narrow to slits. “Emerald always has a way of cozying up with rich men. So, how did she hook you? She probably uses the same tricks as her mom...”
I start to say something, determined to stand up for myself and not let him talk about me in such a way. “Enzo, you are disgusting and a complete creep. Why don’t you just?—"
But Enzo raises his voice to talk over me. “I bet she reeled you in by showing you a good time with her tight little pussy. Shame I never got to give it a go. I would have loved to have been the one to break her in. But then, I should have just offered to pay Emerald because everyone knows how much she loves money?—”
And Saint pulls his gun and makes the snap decision there and then to end his pathetic, measly life. Pop! Pop!
There’re gasps all around, murmurs of shocked whispers, and a shrill scream or two as I look down as the puddle of rapidly expanding red.
Christian comes running out from the back office, and taking one look at Saint and the scene around him, he gives him a ferocious scowl. “For fuck’s sake, Saint, couldn’t you have at least done it outside?”
But Saint merely smirks as he downs the rest of his drink.
People are looking at the scene as Christian barks orders into his cell for a clean-up crew. The Imperiosi’s cop contacts means the authorities will turn a blind eye to this. And I know killing is wrong, but I can’t help being glad that Enzo is no longer going to be around to cause issues for my family and me...