Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Stella
My ass burns from the heat radiating out of it. But my pussy burns just as much from the longing to feel Tommy inside me. It’s a fiery ache. If his hand got any closer to the edge of my shorts, he likely would’ve felt how wet I am for him. I feel like a sticky fucking mess.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’m going to have to see this man over and over again, possibly even daily for the rest of my life, but he won’t be my husband. He’s the last man I should lust for.
Unfortunately, it’s not only lust. There’s more to it than that. There’s so much I already respect about him, even when I don’t like his means of convincing me to behave. I can’t imagine willingly allowing his uncle to do this to me, even if I’m more submissive than I’m certain Tommy would guess.
As much as my body responds to his, he’s not unmoved, either. I feel his length against my hip. Holy fuck, whichever women get to fuck him are lucky bitches. Nothing about him makes me think he’d be shit in bed. Just the opposite. He probably fucks like a porn star.
Between his looks, his charisma, and the length of his dick, it’s overwhelming. It’s distracting. It’s wrong to think about. But now I can’t concentrate on anything else.
Once I’m curled in his lap, it’s like an entirely fresh slice of heaven.
What was erotic a few minutes ago is now beyond comforting.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this protected and taken care of.
It’s not that nobody tries. It just hasn’t felt like this in a long time.
That’s one of the most dangerous thoughts I’ve ever had.
Tommaso Vizzini is not a man I should ever believe I’m safe around. He might protect me from others, but who will protect me from him?
I want to cling to him as he helps me to my feet. He stands at the same time as I gain my balance. We’d been so close to kissing, and I’m certain he thought about it just like I did. But that would cross a line we could never come back from.
“Stella, you will take guards wherever you go from now on. I don’t care whether Chicago is your home and somewhere you know your way around.
It’s obvious people know who you are. Even if you stay out of other syndicates’ establishments, it doesn’t mean you couldn’t run into someone who recognizes you.
I can’t believe you were so reckless last night.
You know it didn’t just endanger you and me.
That fight could’ve caught your friends in the middle once things got nasty. ”
“I know, Tommy. I took for granted that it would just be a quiet night out with friends. I thought we could slip in and out of the bar with no trouble. They wanted to go there. They know who I am, but that doesn’t mean they understand the full implications.
I didn’t want to have to explain why we couldn’t go to one of the most popular bars in this part of Chicago. ”
I don’t want to tell him my plans for tonight absolutely don’t include a bodyguard.
That’s not something he ever needs to know.
I planned to stay at my parents’ home for the next couple of days, but now that I won’t be leaving for another two weeks, I’m going to make other arrangements.
I don’t intend to have my mother and father police my comings and goings.
I won’t move back in with them, even if it’s only for two weeks.
Since Tommy got off the phone and we came straight in here, I figure my dad doesn’t know yet.
My phone’s in my pocket, and nobody’s called.
“Are you going to speak to Papa now?”
“I have to.”
“What will you say about last night?”
“We were at a bar. Somebody approached you and insulted you, and it devolved from there. You did well defending yourself, and Edoardo and his men got there before anything happened to you.”
I wait for him to continue, but he says nothing more.
“Is that it?”
“There’s nothing more to say. That’s what happened. I don’t need to embellish it or give him all the fine details. That will have to suffice.”
As though conjured just from our thoughts, Tommy’s phone rings. When he pulls it out of his pocket, I see my father’s name. I bite my bottom lip and curl my toes in my sandals.
“Hello, Don Rizzo.”
“What the hell is going on?”
My father’s voice is so loud I hear him despite Tommy pressing the phone to his ear.
I know how loud that must be from experiencing it plenty of times.
It’s not the right tone to take with Tommy.
His expression doesn’t change. Neither does his posture.
But something shifts, and controlled menace radiates from him.
One moment he’s gentle with me and even friendly. The next, he reminds me he’s a Mafioso.
I need to remember he’s one before all else.
The niceties are fleeting. This is a man I still don’t know well enough to trust. Part of me does, though.
It makes me feel foolish. It makes me angry at myself.
If it were merely physical attraction, I could push it aside.
But it’s more than that. I’ll make myself miserable—more miserable—if I don’t get over it.
He tilts his head toward the door. I’m dismissed.
He hasn’t said anything to Papa and won’t until I’m gone.
That’s fine. The movers should be nearly done.
I can slip out without him noticing, then be on my merry way.
I have what I need already in my car. I didn’t think I’d get any more wear out of my clubbing clothes, but I will after all.
These are very particular clothes, so it’s not like I can hand them off to my friends.
I close the office door behind me and do a mad dash around my house to see what’s still here.
Nothing. The chair in my office is all that’s left.
The movers are on the porch, waiting for me to sign off on the shipment.
They work for my father, but I’m certain Mano or Tommy’s brother made all the arrangements.
It’s how they knew better than to approach a closed office door.
Once my signature’s on three separate lines, I watch them pull the rolling door shut.
Then they’re pulling out of my driveway.
I glance over my shoulder, knowing I shouldn’t slip away without telling Tommy I’m leaving.
But what Tommy doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
* * *
I check my mask with my phone camera one last time before I pull open the first set of doors.
I hand my membership card to the security guard.
He shines his flashlight on it, and the hologram glows.
I had to show ID when I signed up for my membership at this sex club, but once a member, the club protects anonymity.
The card has a member number, but my name appears nowhere on it.
Once the bouncer buzzes me through the second set of doors, I make my way directly to the locker room.
I leave my outside clothes—a slinky cocktail dress that’s daringly short with no back and a plunging neckline—locked away behind a padlock I bought when I became a member.
I check the mirror once again, ensuring my lipstick hasn’t smeared.
The teddy I’m wearing took a lot of courage to don the first time.
I still think it’s way hotter than my body that’s in it, but it fits the dress code just like the dress I wore in.
I don’t wear the platform heels some women prefer.
I’d break my damn neck if I tried. I wear clogs or sneakers most days because my hospital shifts are long.
I have strappy sandals that are easy to slip on and off.
They’re just the right height to make my legs look good without me worrying I’ll wobble off them.
I don’t have a Dom right now. I broke things off the moment Papa told me he was negotiating a marriage for me.
The first time he told me, I was too dumbstruck to say anything.
The second time, I had far too much to say.
But my objections don’t matter. I didn’t choose the family I was born into, but with privilege comes duty.
I’ll do mine by my family and our branch.
I don’t want to think about that as I scan the crowd for the couple of guys I scened with before my last formal arrangement.
That only lasted three months anyway, so not that hard to break off.
If neither of the men are here, I’ll observe or take care of things myself.
I don’t do random hookups, even if plenty of other people do here.
I’ve tested the waters, but it’s always been with a clear understanding that the goal is to find partners I can return to.
I slip into the open lounge area where subs can wait for Doms to approach them.
If either man is here and looking to play, he’ll check this area out.
I watch a gorgeous man I haven’t seen before approach a leggy blonde.
He sidles up next to her at the bar and leans to whisper in her ear.
She giggles before nodding. I expect them to turn away, but he has more to say to her.
I shift as I look around. My movement must catch his eye because I notice he leans around the woman to look at me. Our gazes lock.
Son of a bitch.
Motherfucker.
Fuck my life.
Even with a mask that covers more than mine does, I recognize him.
He clearly recognizes me. He steps around the woman, ignoring when she reaches for him.
He stalks toward me until he’s in front of me.
His hands shoot out and box me in against the bar.
He keeps his body relaxed, appearing dominant and enticing, not intimidating. Little do people know.
“Bambina, it’s past your bedtime.”
Baby girl. He called me that last night. It’s as thrilling now as it was then.
“It’s a little late for the seniors’ early bird special.”
His gaze skims down my body before his left hand slides down my waist and around to my ass. He squeezes hard enough to make me go onto my toes and press my hips into his. He’s hard, but did the blonde do that?