6. Collins
SIX
COLLINS
Drive the Land Rover?
I stared down at the keys in my hand, then at the door where Miceli had left.
What the fuck was going on? Had I missed something?
Leaving the garage, I went back to the main house.
This wasn’t right. I had my vehicle. I liked my cruddy car.
Kyle and I spent many nights inside that tuna can.
Besides, once we figured out how to reenter our former lives, without being killed, we’d have plenty of money, then we’d buy something new for each of us.
I couldn’t take the SUV. There was no way.
“Miceli,” I called out, entering the house. “We need to talk.”
He stepped out of his office. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, exposing the intricate tattoos on his sinewy forearms. The artwork was done in black, shades of red, and white.
The pop of color gave the pictures depicted on his skin life, almost as if they breathed with each movement he made.
His brows were furrowed. I wondered if he realized he hadn’t shaved in a few days, causing the dark salt and pepper scruff on his cheeks to thicken.
He reminded me of John Wick. An avenging angel with a demon’s soul.
Guess it’s a good thing he doesn’t have a dog, huh?
“Has something happened in the past two minutes that I don’t know about?” he asked, pulling from my musings.
“No. Well, I...” I sagged standing there. “Honestly, Miceli, I can’t take this.” I tossed the keys on the kitchen island. “I really love the Land Rover, more than you can imagine, but I’m a tutor, not a kept woman.”
“Who said you were a kept woman?” He closed the distance between us in quick, sure strides. “I haven’t said as much.”
A pang of something... Hurt? Jealousy? I couldn’t name it.
Rose within me and the rotten feeling soured my stomach.
The need to walk away, more like run away, welled within me until I turned from him.
“Exactly. So, keep the keys, please. If we go anywhere, I’ll have someone else take me or I’ll go myself. ”
This was absolutely stupid. He was older than me.
Experienced more than I had, and he sure as hell didn’t have time for my needs.
Besides, we weren’t dating. He’d been my boss.
No matter how attractive he was or how my body lit up when I got around him, it’d been one sided.
Plus, even if I had a remote chance of him liking me, he’d brought another woman home.
A blonde. More his age and probably his speed.
Not saying I hadn’t fooled around, I had.
College was a great place to try things out, including sexuality.
This though... I’m out of my league with Miceli.
I could recognize that and admit it. Yet, even knowing the truth, those feelings didn’t go away.
The desperate yearning burned away the jealous knot, laying heavy in my gut.
I had butterflies when I was around him.
Just the thought of seeing him put a smile on my face. I was crushing hard for the older man.
Still, I was invisible to him. I’d been given a task.
Teach his daughter. I was a paid employee, not a hopeful woman waiting to see if he’d ask me out.
Actually, in his eyes, I was nothing more than a kid, which hurt even more.
I muddied the waters here and pushed my agenda.
Not the other way around. Until he whispered in your ear, turning you on.
What about that? Yes, what about that? I’d given the situation and the previous week’s interactions some thought.
As much as Miceli was a good man, he wasn’t.
He, like the other the families I’d grown up around, never in, had streaks of superiority and homicidal rage.
They were all about power and wealth. They were the people who were perched on 5 th Avenue staring down at the minions who’d never truly see the world from the wealthiest families’ roosts.
Well, technically, not all of them were stuck up. I painted too many of them with too harsh and broad of a brush.
People like Miceli did, though. It’s why they were always chosen to do the things people with clean hands and weak stomachs couldn’t.
My father, being an accountant for some of those families, gave me the ability to learn about the men who found themselves at the table.
As corny as it sounded. Miceli would always be a dangerous man.
The thought sent a bolt of lust straight to my clit.
Or, maybe, it was the fact he could kill without compunction that turned me on.
Seeing the strength in his hands. How they were well manicured without so much of a mark, or scar to denote the things he’d done in the dark.
Had he strangled anyone with those hands?
Would he do so to me when he found out my truth?
I was deranged.
No two ways about it.
A shiver worked down my spine at the thought. I couldn’t say for certain if it was because I liked the idea of him wrapping his massive palm around my throat and squeezing, or if it scared me into wanting to run away again and take my chances elsewhere. Now you’re being dramatic.
Possibly.
“You’d never make it as a sugar baby,” he muttered, then laughed. “Not at all.”
Indignation stiffened my spine. “I don’t want a sugar daddy either.”
“Good. I’m not fat, bald or impotent. Nor do I need drugs to get my dick hard.
” Whiplash from his statements had me shaking my head.
Did I hear him correctly? Sometimes I wondered if he got off in seeing me twist in the wind.
The crass man standing before me was Mr. Hyde.
Dr. Jekyll, I presumed, was probably still in his office toiling away at whatever business he’d been attending to.
“TMI, much?” I snarked, crossing my arms. “I don’t need to know about your bodily functions.”
“Your nipples say otherwise.” He took a step closer to me.
“So does the erratic pulse at your throat and the way your nostrils flair whenever I say anything enticing to you. So ,why don’t we quit lying to each other, Collins?
” He placed his hands on either side of the counter, capturing me without me even noticing.
“I’ll have you know this is sexual harassment,” I said, trying to keep up the fake bravado. “I could go to HR.”
He laughed. The bastard. He continued to snicker at me while shaking his head. “No, you won’t.”
Screwing up my face in disbelief, I blinked. “Excuse me. Says who? Just because your name is on the building doesn’t mean you haven’t sat through the prerequisite sexual harassment classes.”
He leaned in. His deep, throaty chuckle rumbled through me.
I clenched my thighs to elevate the throb behind my clit.
His deep brown eyes gleamed with smug male satisfaction and desire.
When his lips brushed the shell of my ear, I gasped.
“I bet if I ran my middle finger along your slit, your pretty little cunt would be dripping for me.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from begging him to do exactly as he said. “You’re wrong.”
“Care to make a little wager?” He pressed the length of his body to mine.
The thick outline of his cock was nestled against my lower belly.
Heat roared to life within me. If I begged right now, would he fuck me?
Did I want to go that far? What did it say about me if I did?
Did I care what anyone thought anymore? Not like I had anyone but Kyle left.
“What kind of wager?” The words slipped from me before I was even ready to speak them. No way in hell I’d bet anything because I had nothing. Plus, I’d lose.
“The Land Rover for your body. One night.” His gaze tracked mine. He didn’t move an inch, making it incredibly difficult to breathe.
I licked my bottom lip, and he groaned. The purely masculine sound kept me off balance. “O-Okay.”
“Mmm,” he hummed. “You should know I enjoy having things done my way.”
No shit. Like I couldn’t tell. Instead, I whimpered and nodded, because he ensnared me, holding me in an aroused trance I didn’t want to break. “Your way?”
He nodded, biting his bottom lip. “Turn around, Collins. Hands on the island. Don’t move.”
I rotated, facing the window overlooking the garage and freshly manicured yard. “Wait... Aren’t you going to tell me what the bet is?” Not staring at him gave me a moment to clear the lust-filled haze clouding my judgement.
“I already did,” he whispered in my ear. “My bet is that your cunt is dripping for me. Remember?”
My breath hitched. “Here? Y-You wanna check here? In the open?”
“No one will bother us. My men know better, and Rocca is sleeping soundly.” His chest molded to my back while his fingers toyed with the tab of my cut-off shorts. “Are you scared?”
I shook my head, worried about what would come out of my mouth if I tried to answer him.
He made a sound of approval at the back of his throat as he eased open my shorts.
Anticipation shot through me. Tension filled me.
I held my breath, afraid to breathe in the moment.
The graze of his fingertips as he pushed past the band of my panties, sent me to my tip-toes.
I wouldn’t survive this. I was caught somewhere between holy shit, this is hot, and holy shit, this is wrong. Miceli is my boss.
The proof of my arousal waited for him as he ran his middle finger over my clit and along my damp panties.
Humiliation and excitement warred with one another as he groaned in my ear.
His hips flexed. Miceli pushed his pants covered dick across my ass, sending me spiraling.
My eyes fluttered closed. My nails bit into the unyielding granite counter top for purchase.
“I knew it.” He nipped my ear lobe. “Take the Land Rover, Collins.” He entered me with his middle finger, teasing me to frustration.
I sobbed in irritation. “I shouldn’t.”