4. Rufino
CHAPTER FOUR
Rufino
V erity left my penthouse with my coffee mug.
The audacity of it makes me want her a hundred times more. I chuckle every time I think about it.
She’s so fucking cocky and full of shit.
Everything about her is a challenge. She’s feisty, rude and carefree in a such a way that I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s driving me crazy.
Finding her number was easy. I have access to a lot of information that is not public knowledge. It comes at a price, but this price was worth every cent I paid.
We’ve been flirting over messages all day.
It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since I last saw her, and I want to see her again as soon as possible.
Sitting in the meeting at work I’m busy talking to her on my phone.
“Rufino, are we interrupting something?” Masaccio says with annoyance.
I look up from the message I was reading.
“Not at all, please, carry on.”
He snarls. The topic of conversation is a new shipment, and he’s stressed about it. I couldn’t give less of a fuck if I tried. My brothers are assholes. They have been assholes my entire life - making it too fucking clear that I am an outsider in their group. My red hair and imposing height setting me apart from them - making me different. They decided when I was young that I was adopted and have spent their lives making sure I understood I wasn’t one of them.
The nicknames they made up for me where endless. Devil kid. Fire brains. Carrot. The gingerbread man. Lighthouse.
But the one that stuck was Red.
It stuck because I let it stick.
I would become aggressive to the point where two of my brothers had to go to the hospital on separate occasions.
It got so bad when I was around thirteen years old that my father had me DNA tested. He knew what the results would be, but he wanted to make it clear to my brothers.
I am their brother.
There is no question about it.
Yet, they still continued to remind me I was not part of their inner circle.
So - fuck them.
Fuck their family meetings and their loyalty to each other.
Absolutely, I stand by my family no matter what. I would not cross that line, but I don’t have to hang out with them or be part of their shit.
I have better things to do with my time.
Typing out my reply to Verity I am back to ignoring Masaccio.
Me: So, when can I see you? I need to get my coffee mug back. It’s my favorite one.
Verity: This coffee mug is my hostage now. It’s going to cost you if you want it back. We will need to open negotiations.
I grin. This girl has caught my attention. I will play her games, and I will win.
Me: Name the price. Anything you want.
Verity: I’ll have to think about it. But in the meantime I might be at Collision tomorrow night.
Me: I might be there too. What a coincidence.
I guess I’m going to Collision tomorrow night then.
When we finished up chatting I email the club manager at Collision and book a VIP table in the private area. I want to spend some time alone with her. Out of the watchful eye of the public.
The little time we spent near each other last time was a risk. We need to be careful if we are going to play with fire.
But I want to play with fire.
Us being seen together could literally start a war between our families. The relationship between my brothers and the A’Vara’s has always been sketchy - on the brink of something violent. I’m pretty sure her father would want to tear me apart if he found out I spent a night with his daughter.
I reckon he’d want blood if he found out I was doing nothing more than speaking to her.
C ollision is full, wall to wall people, and the music is vibrating against my skin as I stand on the balcony of the VIP section with my eyes scanning across the club for her.
I’m filled with nervous tension. The thick thrumming energy of anticipation that I can’t shake. It’s strange to me to feel this way about a girl.
Something about her has infected my mind and body.
Every moment of every day she is there in my thoughts.
And I’m fine with it.
Verity walks into the club looking like a goddess, dragging my attention onto her to the point where I cannot look anywhere else.
Her black, short dress dips low in the front, almost to her belly button, showing off the carved line down the center of her toned stomach.
A groove from below her breasts that travels between her ribs - I want to trace my tongue over it. All the way down to taste her again.
She glances up at me as though she can sense me.
Our eyes meet and one corner of her mouth curls up into a mischievous grin.
She is here alone.
That’s what I wanted.
However, when she makes her way through the crowd, many people greet her. She is well known here, just like I am. We have to be so careful.
“Hello, Viking.” She smiles, her eyes tracing over my body with suggestion while she bites her lower lip. She steps forward and brushes her cheek against mine. Not the greeting I’ve been waiting for.
I slip my hand around her narrow waist and tug her tight against my body.
Pressing my lips against her mouth I kiss her, her hot breath against my skin. My entire body sparks.
My cock stirs and I wonder how I will make it through the night without fucking her on the couch in our private booth.
Perhaps I won’t.
Perhaps that is exactly what I’ll do.
There is a first time for everything.
“Champagne?” I ask when I step away, taking her hand and looking down at her. Those bright blue eyes teasing me with secrets I want to learn. I want to know everything about her. I want to read her like an open book.
She nods, a soft smile on her rose lips.
The VIP room I’ve booked is a lot more secluded than the main VIP balcony. I lead her to it and pull the heavy velvet curtain closed behind us.
Below us, on the dance floor, crowds of people move in time to the same beat, like waves on the ocean, all flowing in the same direction. I watch them for a second, but they can’t hold my attention. I turn back to her. She drops her clutch onto the table next to the silver ice bucket.
“Excellent choice.” She comments, lifting the champagne to look at the label.
“I only make the best choices.” I say, my eyes on her as I pull her towards me.
She stands with her hands on my chest, tracing her fingers over my pecs.
The top of her head almost reaches my shoulders.
I could break her like a twig, but something suggests she is covered in thorns.
Verity bites her lip and throws me a look that sends hot shivers down my spine.
“I was hoping you were more inclined towards making bad choices.” Her eyes narrow with a silent challenge.
On her tip toes she wraps her fingers around the back of my neck and pulls me towards her for another kiss. Our lips touch and nothing else matters. The world around me disappears and all I feel or see is her.
She blocks off the chaos of my thoughts and silences my mind.
This girl might just be the death of me, and I’m not even bothered if that turns out to be the case.
She joins me on the sofa, while I pour us each a glass of champagne.
The thing that takes me more by surprise than anything else is how well we get on when we are just talking. Yes, the sharp electric current between us is a constant. Rich sensual tension that sparks beneath my fingertips when I brush them over her. But apart from that - we share the same dark sense of humor, that same streak of cheeky arrogance and a talent for the game of teasing.
She doesn’t want to be tamed - neither do I. But the thought of making her submissive to me is driving me wild.
After a bottle of champagne the risks we take are escalating.
“Where is your security guard?” I ask as she climbs onto my lap, straddling her legs over my thighs and grabbing my face in her hands.
“Don’t worry about them. They made the mistake of tracking my phone.” She grins.
“And where is your phone, Verity?”
“It’s gone for a little drive with a friend of mine.”
She brushes her thumb across my lips, pulling my mouth open and then wrapping her own lips over mine.
I can’t help the growl that rumbles through my chest when she rocks her hips over me. My cock growing harder by the second.
I grab her waist and push her harder against me.
The little gasp that falls from her lips is my undoing.
I reach behind her, my hands wrapping around her ass, letting my fingers trace between her ass cheeks. She isn’t wearing underwear. She is asking for this. I dip my finger inside her pussy and her breath catches.
She locks her eyes into mine.
Pulling my zip open I free my cock and she doesn’t break eye contact when I push myself inside her.
This is way too risky.
This is beyond stupid.
But I can’t fucking stop.
Her nails dig through my shirt into my shoulder and I push her back and forth on my cock.
I can see the dance floor over the edge of our balcony, moving and flowing and flooded with people.
But none of them can see us.
And if they could, all they would see are two people making out on a sofa.
That’s what I tell myself as I thrust up into her and let the blissful blur of champagne continue to taint my better judgement.
Verity is moaning against my ear and it’s so fucking hard to control myself.
I want to rip her dress off her body and wrap my lips over her nipples. I want to grab her thighs and spread them open so that I can fuck her deeper.
We move together, both striving for that same control.
But even without the freedom of movement I would prefer, I am so close to exploding and I can feel how her pussy is pulsing over my cock.
Her nails dig in deeper and her legs shake.
She grinds herself against me and bites her lower lips.
In the dim light of the club, with red and pink lights flashing around us, she tilts her head back and gasps when the orgasm locks her onto me.
My cock goes rigid inside her.
The release is pure ecstasy as I come more intensely than I thought possible.
She giggles but doesn’t climb off my lap in a hurry.
Instead she leans over and picks up her champagne, sipping it, whilst watching my face.
“I think you’re bad for me.” She whispers against my ear.
“Why is that?” I chuckle.
“Because - with you - there seem to be no limits.”
“There aren’t any limits, little vixen. And even if there were - you and I can break them all.”