Chapter 5
ASTON
Ichecked my watch for the fourth time.
It didn’t go unnoticed by Rafa. He never missed anything. His stare was the kind that made most men squirm—or run.
“Somewhere else you need to be, Aston?” he asked, voice even and unreadable.
Rafa was a master of that—masking every emotion behind a wall of ice.
One of the many reasons he made a damn good Mafia underboss.
With his wife or other people he was extremely close to, he could be soft, funny, and almost normal.
But with the rest of the world? Ruthless.
Efficient. The kind of man who didn’t waste time on warnings.
I wasn’t stupid enough to lie to him. “I have a date.”
His mouth twitched—basically a full grin for Rafa. “So I hear.”
My eyes cut to Domenico, sprawled on the couch as though he didn’t have a care in the world, thumbs tapping at his phone. It didn’t look like he was listening. Which meant he was absolutely listening.
Domenico absorbed everything. If he wasn’t watching, he was still processing—voices, movements, exits, threats. Probably texting Gabbi while mapping out the fastest route to kill a man with a stapler. He could most likely tell you how many times I’d shifted in this damn chair since I sat down.
I narrowed my eyes at him anyway.
He didn’t look up—just raised one hand in mock surrender. “Gabriella.”
Putain de merde.
Of course, Gabbi. His wife and Rafa’s sister.
He didn’t need to say more. Domenico rarely did. The man treated words like a precious commodity. Unless it was about Gabbi—then he had plenty to say. Usually in the form of guttural warnings to any man who dared look at her too long.
Which was mildly inconvenient since she worked for me.
I huffed out a breath. “I figured Gabbi was the source. But since you two are—how do we say—attachés comme des chiens… and gossip like your wives, I’m assuming it was Domenico who told you, Rafa.”
Domenico just grunted while Rafa smirked like a man who’d earned the insult and didn’t give a fuck.
Then Rafa asked casually, “Who is she?”
The question was anything but casual, and I stiffened. “No one, right now. But if that changes, you’ll be the first to know.”
He would have to know about Kerrigan eventually since I wouldn’t be letting her go anytime soon. However, as long as I kept her ignorant of The Family and our operations, Rafa wouldn’t interfere. Still, I wasn’t ready to share her yet.
Rafa rubbed the scruff on his jaw, his enigmatic brown eyes once again studying me. Then he nodded. “Va bene.”
“Let me know when you have a solid date for the next shipment,” I requested. “There have been some rumblings on the art scene about a couple of the paintings. The paperwork will have to be spotless before we can add them to the next showing at Belladonna.”
“Certo.”
“Merci,” I said as I pushed to my feet.
The mishmash of Italian and French in our conversation would probably seem comical to most. But Rafa and I spoke both languages, so we barely noticed it anymore.
We’d met in Rafa’s downtown office, located in a high-rise next door to Vellum & Vine. So I headed back to the museum to change my clothes.
Since we’d met at the gala and then I’d taken her on a date after work, Kerrigan had only seen me in a suit and tuxedo. Our plans for this evening were more relaxed, so I dressed in jeans and a dark gray, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up just above my elbows.
We’d both been swamped the past couple of days, forcing us to wait until mid-week before seeing each other again, although we’d texted every day.
While I’d hated not seeing her, it gave me time to plan a special night.
One that would definitely include more time spent tasting that sweet mouth of hers.
I’d fucking dreamed of her lips every night, waking up a sweaty mess and forced to take an ice-cold shower.
I arrived at Kerrigan’s apartment at four o’clock on the dot. The Peachtree was closed for a private event, so she’d been given the afternoon off.
It pleased me to see that her building was in a decent area and had moderate security, though I would be changing that to fucking Fort Knox soon enough. I hadn’t yet decided whether she would be aware of the amped-up security, though.
The door opened while my hand was still in the air, poised to knock. A woman who looked to be around the same age as Kerrigan stood across the threshold, grinning at me.
“You must be Mr. Tall, Dark, and French,” she chirped.
“I suppose that is an apt description,” I replied with a half smile.
“Come on in. I’m Melanie. Kerrigan should be ready any minute.”
“Merci.”
“I can see what she means about the accent, but personally, I go for tall, dark, and Italian.”
I was saved from a response when my woman sashayed into the room. A bright smile lit up her beautiful face, and that alone sent my pulse into overdrive. Then I let my eyes drift lazily over her delicious curves, and my mouth went dry as a bone.
Long, red hair hung in waves down her back, some of it pulled away from her face with a blue clip on the left side of her head. Her makeup was subtle, just enough to make every feature pop, and the gloss on her plump, bow-shaped lips had all sorts of dirty thoughts coming to mind.
She wore a sweater that hung loosely off one shoulder, but the material turned snug around her breasts and down her torso until it ended just above her pants, showing just a sliver of her stomach when she moved.
The light blue color made her soft, freckled skin look even creamier, and my fingers flexed, wanting to touch all that perfection.
Her jeans were molded to her curves, accentuating her breeding hips and thick thighs.
I blinked when the thoughts flitted through my mind, taken aback.
I wanted Kerrigan under me, over me, every which way I could think of.
But why the fuck was I thinking about how her perfect body was made to have babies?
I tried to shake off those thoughts, but images of her naked body with a gently rounded belly made my cock swell to painful proportions. Thankfully, my shirt hung just low enough to hide the bulge.
“You look incroyable, petite miette,” I croaked.
A sweet blush of pink stole across her cheeks, and her smile grew soft. “Thank you.”
Holding out my hand for hers, I silently prayed that I wouldn’t walk funny, thus giving away the state of my dick despite its current cover.
Kerrigan placed her palm in mine, and I threaded our fingers together. “Are you ready, miette?”
Kerrigan nodded and glanced at Melanie, who handed her a purse.
“Have fun, you two. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Kerrigan snorted playfully. “Wouldn’t do? Or haven’t done?”
Melanie screwed up her face and huffed, “Now that wasn’t very nice.” Then she giggled, her eyes twinkling at her friend. “Okay, then do allllll the things I haven’t, but totally would love to do with the right guy.”
Both girls burst into laughter while I stood there wondering if they’d lost their minds.
After a minute, they sobered and said good night to each other.
Hand in hand, Kerrigan and I strolled to the door, then out into the evening.
When we reached the passenger side of my car, I smoothly shifted our positions so she was leaning back against it while I caged her in with my hands on the roof.
“Not seeing you since Monday taught me a very important lesson,” I told her, my expression serious.
Her brow furrowed, and she bit her bottom lip.
Gently, I tugged it from between her teeth. “I realized that your lips are a fucking drug, and I’m already addicted.”
I licked her plump bottom lip, and she let out a tiny gasp. Taking full advantage of her open mouth, I covered it with mine as my arms curled around her.
She moaned and leaned into me, pressing her big, soft breasts against my chest.
My tongue swept into her hot mouth, and I felt a wave of hunger crash over me when I tasted her sweetness. One of my hands slid down to her ass, while the other glided up into her hair. I clenched my fingers in the long tresses, roughly tugging her head to just the right angle to deepen the kiss.
My cock was as hard as stone, and my hips rocked into her, letting her feel how much I wanted her.
“J'ai envie de toi,” I groaned against her lips.
I dove back in for another deep kiss, but I knew I was on the edge. If I didn’t want to fuck her right there in my damn car, we needed to stop.
“Putain,” I cursed after ripping my mouth away.
We were both breathing hard, and I could feel her pulse racing. I needed to calm the fuck down, but her flushed skin and swollen lips were wreaking havoc on my control.
Raising my hand, I glanced at my watch. I had called in a big favor for tonight, so it helped that we needed to leave right away so we wouldn’t be late.
“Let’s go, miette,” I murmured, giving her ass a little squeeze. “We have somewhere to be.”
I opened the door and helped her into her seat, then pulled the belt across her chest and clipped it into place. A smirk formed on my lips at her quick inhale when my arm brushed the hard tips of her breasts.
Merde. She had amazing tits, and I went fully hard all over again when I added fucking them to the list of things I planned to do to her eventually.
“Where are we going?” she asked once we were both settled in my car.
“Somewhere special,” I replied with a smirk.
It was clear that she was curious, but she remained silent.
“No more questions?”
She shook her head and laughed. “I love surprises.”
“Good to know.” I would enjoy using that to my advantage in the future. Although I doubted she’d like them quite as much if she ever found out what I was hiding from her.
The drive to Pullman Yards didn’t take long, and rather than pulling into the public parking, I drove around to the employee lot.
“Pullman Yards?” she mused inquisitively. “Why are we here?”
I smiled mischievously as I opened my door. “Patience, ma petite miette.”