Twenty-four
Chiara
His arm is already around me when I wake, his hand flat against my stomach, holding me in place. His mouth is between my legs, his tongue already working over my clit.
I don’t shift. I can’t stop him.
“You’re awake,” he says against me, his voice rough, his breath warm as his tongue drags slow and firm.
“You’re already late,” I say, pressing my hand over his, keeping him exactly where he is instead of pushing him away.
He huffs lightly, his tongue circling again, tighter this time, his fingers sliding in deep, picking up the rhythm his mouth sets. “You’re the one with the schedule.”
“I have a boss.” I angle my hips back, forcing his mouth deeper, not giving him space to ease off.
“She works for me.” His hand tightens at my waist as he adjusts his position, locking me where he wants me.
I reach down and catch his wrist, not stopping him, just holding it there so he feels it. “She’d really flip if she knew about us.”
“Why?” He flattens his tongue, dragging slow before tightening again, his fingers pressing deeper, controlled, and deliberate. “She’s worried you’ll tell on her?”
“Probably.” I push back harder, setting the pace now, not letting him dictate it alone.
His mouth stays on me, his tongue and fingers working together, steady, precise. His grip at my waist tightens, pulling me flush against him, holding me there like he’s not letting me move unless he allows it.
I grip the sheets to hold the position as the pressure builds.
He doesn’t rush it. He never does.
The release hits hard and fast, my body tightening under his mouth as he keeps going just long enough to push it through before he lifts his head.
He looks up at me, a small, controlled smile already there.
“You think you’re so good.” I reach for him, my hand sliding up his chest.
“No.” His hand moves up my body, his mouth closing over my nipple as he licks it to a tight nub then pulls it with his teeth. “You do.”
I catch the back of his neck and pull him up, bringing his mouth to mine. “I’ve got to go,” I say against his lips, not loosening my grip. “Don’t waste time.”
He doesn’t hesitate. He reaches for a condom, and it’s on his hard cock in seconds. His hand braces beside my head, the other gripping my hip as he pushes me back, lifting my leg higher.
His mouth stays on mine, harder now, less controlled, but his hand at my hip stays precise, setting the angle before he moves.
I hold him there, fingers tight at his neck, not letting him pull away.
He exhales once, sharp, and then pushes in, deep, setting a pace that doesn’t ask for agreement.
I match it.
“You’ll be late,” he says against my mouth, his hand sliding under my thigh, holding me open, locked in place.
“Then don’t slow down.” I drag my nails down his back, pushing him to keep the pace.
He doesn’t ease off. His grip tightens, his rhythm sharper now, faster.
I stay with him, pushing back, holding him where I want it until my climax breaks again, fast and hard.
He stills for a second, his jaw tight, his hand firm at my hip before he pulls out, already shifting away.
“That works—for now.” He rolls onto his back but doesn’t reach for me. “I wish we didn’t have to get to work this morning.”
His hand drops from my waist first, the contact gone.
“You should go.” He pushes up and swings his legs off the bed, already moving.
“I know.” I roll onto my side, watching him instead of following.
He stands, dragging a hand through his hair as he crosses the room. “Your driver will be outside in twenty.”
“What about Katie?” I slide out of bed and reach for my clothes.
He stops at the doorway, one hand braced against the frame. “His name is Jackson. He’ll have eyes on you all day.”
“What?” I pull my shirt on, smoothing it down.
He glances back once. “You just dropped a nuclear bomb between two highly organized and armed families. Jim doesn’t want to let you out of his sites.”
My brain is finally functioning. “They think I’m in LA.”
“You heard your father. Palo is here.” He watches me for a second longer and then nods once, like he’s already moved on. “Twenty minutes.” He disappears into the bathroom.
I pull the clothes I’m going to wear today and walk into the bathroom where steam still clings to the glass.
Ciro stands at the sink, shirt half-buttoned, cuff in his hand.
I hop into the shower. The one advantage to wearing a wig is that I don’t have to worry about washing and styling my hair.
I finish my quick shower, and Ciro walks in from his closet. “You’re taking too long.” He slides his cuff through and fastens it with a sharp click.
“I’m not ready yet.” I set my makeup bag on the counter and unzip it in one motion.
“You’ve got five more minutes.” He reaches for his watch and looks at me.
I pull the case out, flip it open, set it flat beside the sink, and quickly give him a peck. “Then leave. We’re not driving in together.” I lift the wig from the box and shake it out once.
“I’ll see you at work,” he says, and he disappears.
After some quick makeup, I pop my contacts in and run down the stairs and meet Katie. She hands me a cappuccino, and I meet Jackson in the garage.
On the drive into the office, Jackson keeps one eye on the rearview mirror. He doesn’t change course. He doesn’t reroute, doesn’t slow, doesn’t check twice. No one’s holding our line, although given all the traffic in the City, I can’t imagine it would be easy to spot a tail.
Jackson pulls into the garage, and a space reserved for security. He comes around and opens my door. And we walk to the elevator.
He drifts ahead as if the pace belongs to him. His head moving constantly as he looks for any possible threat.
“You don’t need to be in front.” I shift left so I can walk out first.
The elevator opens, and through the mirrored wall panels, the two of us line up without trying—same frame, same direction, like it was planned.
I let it hold for a second longer than I should, and then shift my gaze to the floor indicator as the numbers tick up.
“Where will you be?” I ask, pressing my thumb lightly against the button again, even though it’s already lit.
“I won’t be far. I have a place.” He steps in behind me as I walk toward my cubicle pod. “Don’t worry about it.”
I adjust the strap of my bag on my shoulder, sliding it higher. “Okay, I’ll call you when I’m ready to leave.”
“Just go about your day.” He shifts his stance, angling away so we’re no longer side by side. Close enough to register. Not close enough to connect. “I won’t be far.”
The elevator hums under us, steady, controlled and when the doors open, I step out first.
The floor receptionist’s hand pauses over the phone as Jackson lifts his badge, the plastic catching the light.
“Morning,” she says, her voice tightening as she tracks him.
He doesn’t respond or look at her.
“Morning.” I scan my badge and push through the gate, holding it just long enough for the lock to click before I let it swing shut behind me.
Her eyes follow him.
I turn left to head to my desk, Jackson breaks right at the corner, flashing his badge at the secured door and disappearing inside. He doesn’t stay with me. Thank goodness.
By the time I cross into the bullpen, the day has started.
“Hi!” Bethany says as she holds her mug of steaming coffee. “How was your day off?”
“I had to work for an old client.” I walk into my cubicle and try to remind myself I need some personal things here so it looks like I’m here to stay.
Heather appears. “Cara, do you have a minute?”
Heather says my name and I don’t move—half a beat too long—before it hits and I turn, already stepping in to cover it. That could have been a big mistake that I forgot that here at the office, I’m Cara Davis.
Bethany rolls her eyes and sits down in her cubical across from mine.
“Of course. Let me put my things down, and I’ll be right there.”
She nods as I scramble to tuck my purse in my desk and unpack my laptop from my bag.
I walk over to Heather’s office and knock on the door.
“Please shut the door and have a seat,” she says as she pushes a thick file in front of the chair.
I shut the door and pull the chair out slowly and sit, my hand resting on the edge of the desk instead of the file. “What’s up?”
She slides the file closer to me with a controlled push. “You’re taking lead on this audit.”
I don’t touch it yet. “No problem.” I shift my weight back in the chair so I’m not leaning in. “What do I need to know?”
“We’re presenting audit findings to our COO, Luca Marino, next Monday. You’ll lead it.”
I finally open the file, flipping the first tab with my thumb while she watches. “Luca,” I repeat, scanning the header without lifting my eyes. “You’re putting me in front of him.”
“Don’t be fooled. This is a test. If he doesn’t like you, I won’t have any say in the matter.” She straightens and folds her arms. “Unless that’s a problem.”
“No. It’s not a problem.”
I let my hand fall away from the tab she touched and then turn another page. “And the rest of the team?” I ask, glancing up briefly before dropping my gaze again. “They’ll report through me?”
“They’ll support you.” She steps around the desk so she’s closer to my shoulder than my face. “You’ll direct.”
I stand, tucking the file against my side instead of carrying it openly. “I’ll review and circle back if I have any questions.”
“Take the morning and go through everything, and let’s meet after lunch and I’ll answer any questions you have.” She reaches for another stack without looking at me. “And Cara—” She pauses just long enough for me to turn. “Don’t make me regret it.”
I nod once, and then turn and open the door, stepping back into the noise of the floor with the file held tight against me.
I sit down at my desk, open the file, and start a running list of questions, shutting everything else out. I spread the audit across the surface and pull the procurement reports onto my screen, lining the columns side by side so the numbers can’t hide behind formatting.
I spend the morning familiarizing myself with the various things we order, hold, and work through them line by line.