9. Need
nine
Need
Eleonora De Salvo was not what Brandi had pictured, in the best of ways. Brandi had been doing her best to brace herself for a hardened woman who surely had not taken kindly to the idea of her baby boy marrying for any reason other than fanciful bliss or perhaps political gain. In Brandi’s mind, Eleonora had become some Elizabethan figure draped in luxury, with all the diamond edges she would obviously have needed to raise the three most powerful and dangerous men in New Jersey—possibly in the entire United States.
The barely five-foot, three-inch woman in a dress so dark it was more black than green was not the terrifying mafia matron of Brandi’s nightmares. She chased Mikey away after barely ten minutes, insisting she needed to get to know her new daughter-in-law, and planted herself on the sofa in the den for close to two hours. Simply talking.
Brandi probably apologized three times over for not attending the De Salvo family dinner the night before by the time Eleonora left. She genuinely hadn’t wanted her introduction to the family as a whole to be with her face half covered in bruises. She stood by her reasoning. But now that she’d met the woman they all gathered to keep close to, the woman who’d taught them the value of that closeness, she felt as if she’d committed some grave sin.
Mostly, she felt an old, familiar pang of envy and blended sadness.
Her mother had remarried, several years after running from her father and her. Had her mother created a newer, better family? Did her mother’s new family consider her some fabulous motherly figure? They weren’t questions Brandi liked contemplating.
She watched from the front stoop as Eleonora was driven off, presumably home.
She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt and nearly jumped out of her skin when her phone buzzed in her back pocket. The buzzing continued, so she knew it was a call, and guessed it was Mikey. She hadn’t exactly given out her new number. “Are you just sitting somewhere staring at your security feed?”
“Not this time.”
“That’s such a shady answer.” Brandi turned and wiggled her fingers in the direction of the front veranda’s camera.
His voice gave no indication that he’d seen her silliness. “How’d it go?”
Both of her brows went up. “Are you calling to check up on me after your mom’s visit?”
“Should I not?”
Brandi continued inside, wandering toward somewhere she could sit. “Your mom seems sweet. If anything, I think she was worried you’d forgotten human interaction so much that you had just plucked me off the street and declared we were getting married.”
He scoffed, but his verbal response was less abrasive than she expected when he said, “Good. It sounds like you got along.”
“Either that, or she’s a great actress and she’s on her way to write a check to a hitman.”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
Brandi grinned. “See, that is where you’re supposed to reassure me.”
“You want me to tell you we don’t have hitmen?”
“I want you to tell me that you wouldn’t waste your time bringing me into your home, and having me sign a contract that does not include putting you in a will, if you were going to turn around and off me before we even get to the courthouse.”
Mikey chuckled. The jerk. “Well, when you put it that way…”
Brandi rolled her eyes and let the joke fall. “Hey, um, how long do you think you’ll be out?” She didn’t know why she was asking. She had voluntarily hidden herself away, she hadn’t once promised to stay in isolation for the foreseeable future.
“I’ve got a couple things to finish up, so probably another hour at least. Did you need me for something?”
The kiss he’d shocked her with rushed to the forefront of her mind and she barely bit back a groan. She absolutely needed him for something, but that was not the thing she planned to be talking about. She had no idea what had come over him, if it had just been a curiosity thing or something more. If it had just been a passing curiosity, she feared that would fracture her resolve to see their arrangement through. The fear was nearly as startling as the kiss, and she didn’t know how to handle either.
“I actually … need to go out.” Need was a stretch. It was a chore that did, arguably, require doing. Did it need to be done that very afternoon? Definitely not. “I thought if you’re busy, and since I’m feeling better, I might as well make the most of the time.”
Mikey didn’t speak right away. “Brandi—”
“I have a plan,” she said quickly. “I just was hoping you might have a person you could spare to help me see it through. I don’t want to draw attention anywhere I don’t have to, but I don’t have a car to just get myself places. So what I need is kind of awkward sounding, but if I can pull it off, it keeps you and everyone connected to you out of the proverbial spotlight.”
Mikey sighed. “That defeats the purpose of the protection. I’ll assign you a driver.”
“I agreed to that before my stalker turned into a killer, Mikey.” The argument was past her lips before it registered in her brain, and Brandi felt her throat close up. That could have been me. She didn’t know if George had necessarily planned to kill her on his very next visit, but there was no doubt in her mind that he didn’t plan to leave her walking and talking before he skipped town. All presuming she could have given him what he claimed he was after.
“He’s a goddamn ghost,” Mikey said. “He hasn’t popped up since that dumbass lost him outside your condo last night. You could walk right into him, and if you go out without anyone with you, you’ll get hurt. At best .”
He wasn’t saying anything she didn’t know. She just… “I don’t want to get anyone else dead.” The driver she’d unintentionally gotten tangled up in her mess had probably had a family. He’d had one of those customizable thermoses with photos wrapped around it. She hadn’t paid much attention, and she wished now she had. It wouldn’t make a lick of difference, but she felt as though she owed it to the man she’d gotten killed to remember something more than what he looked like in death and what he’d done for extra income. She didn’t remember his name; she couldn’t remember his face without blood. It seemed discourteous somehow.
At the same time, that realization and old familiar pangs still reverberating in her heart insisted that she was a much better candidate. Her driver had had people. The man trying to protect her because she’d allowed him to see her at her lowest had a lot of people, including a warm and forthright mother. Who did she have? On paper, of course, she had a fiancé. But their relationship was a ruse. In reality, she had a father who would hand her over on a platter if it worked to his benefit—in some ways, he already had.
If someone had to risk death, it should be her.
“That’s admirable, but not the point or your fault,” Mikey said. He was responding to her words, but he may as well have been reading her mind. “Let me wrap this up and I’ll take you where you need to go myself.”
No… She couldn’t do that to the one person who’d gone so out of their way for her. Or to his mother. “I’m sorry, don’t worry about it. I’ll be careful.”
“Brandi—”
“I’ll let you get back to work.” She hung up before he could put together more than a syllable of his response. She was probably being unreasonable again, but the idea of just sending someone out to the wolves on her behalf didn’t sit right with her. I’m no one important. The best thing she could do was be honest with herself about that.
She hurried to change into better walking shoes, grabbed her purse, and let herself out of the house. It felt weird not to lock up, but Mikey hadn’t given her a key. There were guards on duty and the property was completely surrounded by a tall privacy fence. That would have to be enough.
A man in black security clothes, with Mikey’s company logo stitched in thin silver, stepped out from the guard house as she passed it on her way to the gate. “Ma’am, is everything all right?”
Brandi stopped and offered him a smile. She was honestly surprised he wasn’t growling at her go back inside. “Yes, completely fine. I just need to do a couple things.” She had no intention of spelling out her transportation situation, so instead she said, “Please keep an extra eye on the house. I can’t lock up.”
His brows pinched together as if he were pained. “Ma’am, I can’t—” He cleared his throat. “Surely you don’t intend to walk through your errands?”
She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a battleplan.” She turned to continue walking, at the same time offering a wave as if she were departing a friendly conversation. “If Mikey asks, tell him I expect to be home in time for dinner.”
The guard made a distinctly uncomfortable sound. “Ma’am, please let me at least call you a car.”
“Exercise is good for me!” She walked straight up to the individual passage gate and calmly input the code Mikey had previously given her.
Movement at her back drew her attention and Brandi glanced over her shoulder as the console beeped to indicate acceptance of the code. Her eyes widened at the sight of the guard she’d been speaking to and another, maybe half a decade younger, coming to stand at her back. Both visibly armed.
Before she could ask the obvious question, the guard she had previously spoken said sternly, “If you won’t take a car, then we’ll have to walk with you, ma’am. It’s our job to keep you from harm and Mr. De Salvo would not appreciate if we stood idly by knowing the person who hurt you is still out there.”
Brandi stared at them, stunned speechless for a long second. “You can’t be serious.”
“We won’t stop you from going wherever you want to go, ma’am,” he replied. “But we insist on accompanying you.”
Indignation flooded her, followed promptly by confusion. She couldn’t run a simple errand without burdening and endangering multiple people anymore? It was so outrageous it wasn’t even flattering. Except that it also kind of was, because it almost implied she was wrong. It almost made her think she might have some degree of emotional importance.
She had no idea what to do with these feelings. She wasn’t used to being so conflicted.
The younger guard spoke up suddenly, his voice a sharp command. “Get back to the house.”
Her lips bent in a frown at the words and she looked up, only then realizing her gaze had dropped to the ground. “Excuse—”
“Come on out, sweet Brandi.”
Everything slowed down and Brandi felt the breath rush from her lungs. No. She turned toward the voice, on the other side of the gate she had only just unlocked, in time to see her stalker raising a gun. Where the hell he’d even come from she didn’t know. She didn’t exactly have time to play twenty questions.
Ralph George, even uglier in the full light of day, looked her dead in the eyes. “Don’t make me kill those monkeys, too.”
No!
The guards who had volunteered to come with her moved forward, weapons already in hand, shoving their way between her and the possible trajectory of George’s gun. “Get inside, ma’am!”
Brandi opened her mouth, still hesitating. Did they realize she’d unlocked the gate?
Something exploded in her ears and the younger man jerked back with a distinctive grunt of pain. He didn’t fall, but he lowered one arm and blood quickly started dripping from his fingers.
The older guard grabbed her and moved so that he was fully in front of her, his back practically flattening her nose. “With respect, ma’am, fucking move !” His shoulders gave a sharp, controlled jerk as he punctuated the command by pulling the trigger of his own weapon.
Brandi instinctively backed away from the noise, her ears ringing, and screamed out when another guard grabbed hold of her arm from behind.
“Sorry, ma’am, we’ve got to get you inside,” the newest one said. He didn’t wait for her compliance, physically dragging her with him back toward the house.
Her feet complied eagerly even as her mind panicked. “Wait,” she said stupidly, “the gate—I unlocked the gate—I have to lock the gate!”
“We’ll handle that, ma’am,” her escort said without breaking stride. “Protecting you comes first.”
She didn’t agree with that, but she had no other argument, so she let him nudge her up the stairs and didn’t question throwing the lock on the door as soon as it was shut behind her. Gunfire had still been going off up near the gated entrance to the property and she hoped that meant George was pinned down. She didn’t know what else it could mean.
Why is he here?
Brandi ripped off her officially useless walking shoes and carried herself to the comfort of the den, dropping onto a sofa where she could haul a pillow into her lap just for something to hold. She still felt vulnerable, but she wasn’t sure if that was because she was alone in the massive house or because her emotions had already been all screwed up before this had happened. She shifted in order to curl in on herself as much as she could.
Of course he’d eventually found her. He’d been stalking her, he knew she had previously reached out to her boss, and he knew she’d gone in to the office on Wednesday. She had assumed he hadn’t seen her get into Mikey’s car the day this arrangement had started. Surely Mikey would have mentioned if he had any suspicions of George camping out just beyond the gate.
But regardless, it was her fault. Again.
And she really had almost walked straight into her stalker’s grasp. Fuck. Me.
Brandi held the pillow tighter and tried not to think about what it might mean that the gunfire had stopped. She didn’t want any of Mikey’s men to be dead. She didn’t even want them to be wounded, though obviously that was impossible. What had she dragged everyone into?
Mikey had never so resented the length of his driveway in his life. It’d taken him close to fifteen minutes to get home after he’d heard Ralph fucking George had opened fire on Brandi and his guards. He was furious. He was still irritated over the strange as fuck conversation he’d had with Brandi shortly before, but that was nothing compared to how angry he was that the very man he’d promised to protect her from had practically waltzed up to his goddamn front door and put a bullet in her head.
Someone’s observational skills had taken an unpaid vacation, and they had better hope they were the ones who’d also taken the fucking bullets.
But he would deal with all of that later. First, he needed to get inside and see for himself that Brandi was unharmed. He wasn’t sure how the actual conversation would go, with both of them being on-edge, but they obviously needed to have one.
He found her clutching a decorative pillow and pressed into the far corner of the back sofa in the den, all the lights off. He flicked on the overhead chandelier and strode into the room, narrowly avoiding stepping on her purse as he rounded the coffee table. That probably explains why she didn’t answer her phone.
Brandi blinked rapidly, as if clearing her vision. From her body language, he was honestly surprised not to see her face covered in tear stains. “I-is he…?”
Something suspiciously like guilt wove its way into the seething ball of rage in his chest. Mikey unclenched his teeth. “He took at least two hits, but the fucker got away. I’ve got a crew enroute to upgrade external security, he at least won’t be able to get the drop on the property after today.” Mikey lowered to crouch in front of her. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.”
Her hands tightened around the pillow. “How many were hurt? Did anyone else—did I get anyone else killed?”
Mikey frowned and reached out, yanking the pillow from her grip and tossing it aside. She squeaked, but he talked over her displeasure. “No fatalities.” Yet. “They’re security guards, Brandi. They’re security guards for the fucking mafia . If they’re not prepared to take a bullet, they’ve made more than one wrong decision in their life.”
Her brow only furrowed in obvious disagreement. “But this isn’t even a mafia thing,” she argued, her voice weak. “It’s my asshole father’s thing that’s been dumped on me. And I’m…” She trailed off and her gaze dropped to her lap.
Mikey scowled, but before he could explain his disagreement, she whispered the rest of her thought.
“I’m no one.”
Something shifted inside him at her words and the fragile tone in which she spoke them. Something he had no name for.
Mikey looped an arm around her waist and hauled her to her feet as he stood, pulling her up against his chest. He threaded his other hand into her hair, letting his palm settle over the back of her head and holding her stare. “You are not no one. You’re my future wife. You have me, and everything that entails.”
Her arms circled around his torso. “I’m so confused,” she said. “One minute I’m angry, the next minute I’m feeling sorry for myself.”
Mikey frowned, but he stayed silent. It was clear she had more to say.
“I expected your mom to hate me,” Brandi continued, “instead she was really sweet, and when she left, I started hating me instead.” Her fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t have anyone who would feel compelled to meet my fiancé. The most I have is someone who would feel entitled to voice an opinion on their perception of the benefits to my marriage.”
She dragged in a breath and Mikey found himself holding her tighter. Irritation pinched her brow. “I got it in my head that I needed to go and yell at him,” she said, obviously referring to her father. “Tell him my news, and that he’s not invited. I justified it to myself because I thought maybe it would help to see if he had any kind of reaction to these bruises. That was all … that was all I was going to do. It wasn’t even important.” She dropped her head to his chest. “I’m so stupid.”
Mikey lowered his hand to her nape and tipped his nose into her hair. “You’re processing a lot. Give yourself more credit. If you want to tell your father the news, I’ll go with you. Considering that he’s ultimately George’s target, that’s the last place you should be going by yourself. Right now, even I would take an escort for that trip.”
She eased back barely enough to look up at him. “You would do that?”
He couldn’t help the scowl that marred his lips. “Don’t misunderstand. Your father’s on my list of assholes to deal with. He’s just not my top priority, and I don’t mind making him sweat first.”
Her gaze dropped and she nodded. Not arguing, not questioning, not defending.
Mikey released a slow breath and gave the back of her neck a faint squeeze. “Brandi.”
Her eyes snapped up again, as if she hadn’t meant to wander. A hint of pink blossomed across her cheeks.
Everything he’d envisioned yelling at her faded to a single, gruff sentence. “Don’t fucking endanger yourself like that again.”
Her eyes widened, but there was no fear. Not even when a single stream of tears slipped free.
Mikey failed to fully contain his groan, dipped his head, and caught the trailing tear on his tongue. Her soft gasp shot through him. When he moved his lips to hers for the second time, she opened promptly. He sucked on her tongue as the hand not on her neck lowered to grab hold of her ass through her skirt. He’d underestimated the temptation she would be, simply existing beside him in his space and talking more comfortably to him.
He may have been underestimating his desire for her overall, for a while.
He retreated from her lips as the press of her fingers dug into his shoulder blades. He didn’t otherwise ease his grip, making absolutely sure this time she was fully aware what she’d done to him. “I have half a mind to bend you over this sofa.”
Her eyes widened again, the burn on her face intensifying. Her lips parted. “That’s—I— Someone could walk in!”
That was her argument? A grin teased his lips and he whispered in her ear. “The risk makes it more fun.”
The moment her breath shuddered out of her, her fate was sealed. The fact that she pressed her forehead into his shoulder and almost inaudibly mumbled her agreement was icing on the damn cake.
Mikey spun her around and trailed his lips down the side of her throat, his hands at her hips. “Do you remember your safe word?”
“Yes,” she said on an exhale.
He slid a hand up her spine and bent her forward. “Hands on the back. Do not let go.” Her hands immediately latched onto the sturdy support of the sofa and he gripped her neck once more. Not pulling, not squeezing, simply holding. “Unless I tell you otherwise, you will call me ‘sir’ when I’m fucking you, and you will always answer my questions or I will stop. Do you understand?”
Her hands flexed over the fabric. “Yes, sir.”
His dick twitched at the perfect, breathy response. Fuck. “Good girl.” He slid his hand back down her spine, moving slow enough to watch her reactions. She squirmed, her feet shuffling, but gave no indications of pain. Good.
Mikey flipped her skirt up over her ass, revealing a half-lace strip of cloth teasingly obscuring her flawless skin. He let himself palm her ass, squeezing and stroking as if she were already bare. He wasn’t much for spanking, or he’d certainly be tempted with this presentation and her own self-sabotaging behavior earlier. He’d have to find a more enjoyable method of punishment. He trailed his fingers along the edge of her panties, letting his touch curve between her legs. “Wider.”
She widened her legs immediately.
He pressed his fingers over the fabric, gliding them back and forth against the dampness. “I want to feast on this pussy, Brandi,” he told her. “But only good girls get their pussies eaten. Have you been a good girl? Or have you misbehaved?”
She sucked in a breath. “I-I’ve been bad, sir,” she said on a gasp. “I’m sorry!”
He grinned and removed his hand from her heat. “I commend your honesty. Unfortunately, that means I’m going to have to fuck your pussy until you scream. Because bad girls get fucked.” He pushed his own pants to his knees and pulled her panties to the side, leaving them in place as part of the punishment. “And when we’re done, you’re going to leave my seed inside you until I give you permission to wash it out.”
The lust in her voice was so tangible it resonated in his balls as she said, “Yes, sir.”
He groaned and stroked his length through her folds once, letting her arousal coat him before he lined himself up. His hands settled on her hips and he thrust his full length forward, filling her tight pussy in a single movement. Fuck.
She panted out, her back arching and her fingers clenching desperately to the sofa.
He rocked his hips just to hear her moan, leaned down, and murmured against her ear, “This is our house, Brandi. When I fuck you here, I want to hear you.” He punctuated the instruction by dragging his cock out to the tip and surging deep again.
She did not disappoint, and he wasn’t sure if that was good or terrible. Even as her forehead dropped to the sofa, her moans, ragged breaths, and half-words got louder. And she was so fucking pliant. Her body moved for his, holding just sturdy enough to offer the resistance he needed while swaying in a way that provided a more sensual rhythm to his ruthless thrusts.
Mikey curved a hand around her, tugging up at her top until he was able to slip his fingers over her skin and beneath her bra. He palmed her breast, making his way to her nipple, as his other hand found her clit.
Her whole body trembled when he rolled both simultaneously. “S-sir!”
“Not yet,” he breathed against her neck. She whined and he did it again, timing it with a driving thrust that had him grinding against the spot inside that made her choke on her words. He moved his lips to her ear. “I’m going to come inside your pussy, fiancée. Do you want that?”
“Yes,” she said with a sob. “Yes, sir. Please, please let me come with you, sir!”
He kissed the back of her ear. “Much better.” He gentled his movements for a moment, teasing them both, before repeating the earlier triple assault that had nearly had him seeing stars. As he did, he growled, “Come for me.”
Their bodies trembled in sync, his groaning drowned out by her scream of ecstasy. He caught her around the waist when her knees buckled and moved with her onto the sofa, keeping himself buried in her delicious heat for as long as he could. Because fuck, he hadn’t even caught his breath and he already knew he needed more.