Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
LORENZO
I wasn’t sure if the phone even rang before I had it pasted to my ear. The regret of letting her go weighed on my chest right before her drunken whisper hit my ear.
“Enzo.”
“What’s wrong?” I had already got my keys and was headed out the front door.
“Can you come…” a flutter of a second before she dropped a, “please.”
My heart skidded to a halt as the elevator pinged open. Fuck. I was going to lose her if I stepped in, but even I couldn’t throttle 129 fucking floors down. I was beginning to fucking hate these elevators. Why am I always running after her? “On my way, Principessa . Can you see Orso?” My voice dripped nonchalance even though I was slowly losing my mind.
A sob. “No.”
I gritted my teeth and stood between the doors, one foot in and one out. “Find the toilet and lock yourself in there.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“He’s watching me,” she muttered in Sicilian, and an icy fist wrapped around my heart.
“Well, tell him you have a fucking husband and kick him like you kicked me,” I growled.
“I don’t know… he’s really big.”
Now she’s scared? “I’m coming for you. Keep him talking, and keep those hands off you. Capisti ?”
“ Sì .” She didn’t sound convinced.
“Tell me where you are.”
“The bar,” she whispered right before the call dropped.
I speed-dialed Orso. “The bar. My way.” Worry was thumping so hard on my chest that I couldn’t string words together to form a fucking sentence.
I dropped a quick call to Nico, told him God knows what shit, and dashed into the elevator. Somewhere between the 129th floor and the basement, my fist collided with the glass, splintering it into a million shards.
I had wanted to give her the fucking freedom she desired, even if it killed me. Now the heaviness of that decision weighed like a ton of bricks on me.
I didn’t know how I got there. A vision of crimson, the buzz of New York traffic, whizzing cars, and red lights, and I found myself striding toward the club.
My heart slowed to a throb when I saw her outside. She was leaning on Orso like she didn’t trust herself to stand on her own. A few feet further, Danilo and my men had formed a wall around two assholes on their knees. I gripped her face and studied her features for what I didn’t know. “ Stai bene? ” I gritted through my teeth.
She gave a shaky nod, and when I made to pull away, she latched onto my wrist, keeping my hand on her face. “Don’t leave, per favore ,” she pleaded, and damn if it didn’t simmer the fury inside me.
“I’ll never leave you, Principessa .” I pulled her into my arms, teetering boots and all.
“He hurt her?” I asked Orso.
“No, but he was about to.” He gave me an angry look. “Should have never let her go alone.” He was out of line, but it was the truth. I would have to give her the freedom she wanted another way because damn if I was ever letting her go alone again.
“Couple of thugs.” Nico came up behind me. Acrimony clawed up my body, and I fisted my hands. Indecision lay underneath my skin. My trigger finger itched to take care of the jerks who thought to even look at my wife. But preferably, I wanted to do it when she wasn’t trembling in my arms.
“Get her home. I’ll take care of them,” Nico muttered.
This was the second time my brothers had to take care of shit when I was the one who would have had the greatest pleasure in shredding the skin off the back of these men. But I didn’t even argue and yanked her with me towards my ride.
Her mouth gaped open. “You came in this?”
Right. I geared myself to hear the stupid shit about nice girls not riding motorbikes.
A finger trailed the aluminium monocoque frame of my Ducati. “I like it,” she breathed.
Of course she did. Bitter amusement lifted my lips as I pulled her closer and armored her with my helmet. It wobbled precariously on her tiny head as much as my rib cage when my ears caught a whispered, “I’m sorry.”
I was going to a be a lot of things for her. Forgiving wasn’t one of them. “Damn right, you should be. You’re never going out without me.”
She giggled like a juvenile.
I jerked my head behind me, “Let’s go.”
Doubt plastered on her face. “Can’t.”
Both our gazes dropped to her skirt. The fucking thing was so damn tight it was a miracle she could walk in it. With a grunt, I pulled my switchblade out and yanked her closer to me. The release of leather on the side of her thigh sizzled in the air and ran the length of my cock. I gritted my teeth when she climbed onto my bike behind me. I glared at her naked thigh. Jesus, it was going to take me forever to get her home.
DARIA
He was warmth in the shape of comfort. He grabbed my anxiety, yanked it off me and blew it into the air like a puff of smoke. I had wanted secrets and betrayal to swim before us. Instead, the air sizzled with need and desire. The hum of the engine vibrated on my core that wrapped against his ass like it was home. The urge to rub myself against him was heavy. In my heady state, I thought it was good to trace a path to his chest with my hands.
A growl fell from the man in front of me, and the line of his shoulders went taut. I wrapped my thighs around his black jean-clad ones, and I rolled my face on his back. He had sacrificed his helmet to me and rode without protection, and all I wanted to do was run my hand through his tousled hair and tug ever so softly.
Every light we stopped at, his rough palm found my thigh and grabbed with his nails biting into my skin. I swear it had a direct link to my core because the spark of electricity zapping to it had me wringing my ass in unease.
We couldn’t have taken long to zoom through the basement garage doors, but it felt like it had taken days rather than minutes.
When he turned off the motor, it throttled to death underneath me. My skin was hot, but the heat coming off burned tires, and a fired-up motor, was hotter. The air was silent except for my heated breath and the knicks and knacks of a silent garage. His warm hand cupped my knee and rode up my thigh. In one flick, he flipped me around, and I landed in the front, in between his legs, with my back against the front fork. My breath left me in a whoosh. This man had nothing but uncouthness riding in his veins. His hand was rough when it wrapped around my chin and unbuckled the armor on me. The hollowness of a rolling helmet on concrete filled the air as he ran his hand through my hair.
“No more clubs.” He yanked my ponytail.
I pouted because I had vodka courage and an impulsive itch. “I like dressing up.”
His gaze sparked, black violence in its depths. “You dress like this, I’ll tie you to my bed and fuck you from behind. No one gets to see you like this.”
My drunken vision swirled. “Not even you.”
“Only me, capisti? ”
Whatever.
“Say it.”
“Only you get to see me, only you get to fuck me…” I wrapped my legs around his hip and pulled myself up, “with your big fucking dick.” Shit, did I just say that?
I drew back in shock, but he jerked me right back and groaned in my mouth. “Fuck if you aren’t hot.”
His tongue fucked my mouth like I wanted him to fuck me. Hot, messy, and loud. A low moan rode my body.
“Jesus, stop those fucking noises,” he hissed between his teeth right before his hands found my panties and snapped them into two. He bunched up my skirt and bundled it into a belt on my belly. A flick of his tongue and amusement flickered in his gaze, together with hot lust. “You’re so damn wet I could coat my bike with you.”
“I’d rather coat your dick.” Medda ! My hand flew to my mouth to his dark chuckle. Stupid liquid courage.
“I love you with alcohol in your body.”
He traced my slit with his finger, distraction in his eyes. What the hell is he thinking about?
“You called me Enzo.”
“Huh?”
“When you called.”
I shrugged. “Made a mistake.”
“Yeah?” He pulled his finger out and sucked it.
I nodded slowly. Didn’t know what I was agreeing to. His finger-sucking was too distracting.
“I like it,” he declared. I wasn’t sure if he was referring to my taste or my use of his name. Both riddled me with discomfort. “Take it off.” He jerked towards my top.
My gaze shifted to behind him. We were alone. For now.
“No one’s going to come in.”
I shrugged my mamma’s upbringing off the moment my hands floated up to unbutton my top. Good girls didn’t ride bikes, let alone lie on them naked. Inch by inch, I revealed naked skin like I was born a whore and not a Di Matteo. Was it the vodka running in my veins or the heat that flickered in his gaze? I didn’t know and didn’t care to find out. But the rough tattooed hand that pushed my bra to choke my neck had me pushing myself to him like a bitch in heat.
His gaze shone on my skin, sprinkled it like glitter, and typical of glitter, followed every nook and crack, leaving nothing untouched.
“You want me to fuck you?” he asked like it wasn’t a given.
“ Sì ,” I whispered, and it echoed off the bare concrete walls louder than the click of his belt.
“Fuck if I do. Fuck if I don’t.”
I had no idea what he meant, but I was too far gone to make sense of it. I sucked my lip in when his zipper went down. The sizz of it brushed my skin.
He pushed himself up, yanked me forward, and throttled inside me with a grunt. I felt the length of him inside me, opening me up. A moan climbed out of my throat, and I wrapped my arms around the front fork. He gave a dark shake of his head and muttered under his breath. “You are so fucking hot.” He pulled out and pushed in again. “Too fucking hot.”
His calloused hand rode my skin, found my nipple, and gave it a hard pinch. Sparks jittered to my core, and my back arched off the hot metal. “You say you don’t want a made man, but you’re all wet for me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to think about any of that.
“Open your fucking eyes,” he bit out, and my vision cleared like a switch to his demand. “Who am I to you?”
Didn’t need to think hard for that one. “My husband.”
A dark edge lined his jaw. “About damn time. What do you call me?”
“Lorenzo?” He pulled out, a tight glare on his face. Doubt flickered in my mind. What did he want? “Enzo?”
A flick on my clit. “Good enough for now.”
Good enough for now?
Confusion marred me, but the heat wrapped around me made me forget it. He pumped hard, mad, and rough. I tried to reach and get what I wanted. Needed. Desired. But he kept me just out of reach.
“Promise me.” His gaze was needy.
My head flipped left to right, desperation in mine. “What?”
“No more clubs.”
“Whatever.”
His dark chuckle filled my insides.
He fucked me roughly. Like he needed this more than his next breath. He was as rude in his fucking as he was in his words and his deeds. I wanted everything a nice boy had to offer, but my body yearned for the callous words and the rough manners of the man above me. That was what made my insides split and spark like a million stars exploding. That was what made my muscles clench when his eyes rolled back and his erection jerked inside me to the hum of his name on my tongue.