Chapter 15
Michael
I’m full of energy as I putter around, preparing for Arya’s return. I’ve finally received the last of the security videos, so I can legitimize her coming over, but that’s not why.
I want more of her. More of her in bed and out of it. I knew sex with her would be amazing after anticipating it for so long, but it’s more than that. I’m so fucking happy to have her back for the night that it actually surprises me.
I shouldn’t let myself catch feelings for her, especially quickly. She’s probably still pissed off at me deep down, no matter how many orgasms I give her. I need to get her that money back and help her look legitimate in the eyes of her family before I don’t have to worry about a knife in my back.
It’s tough, though. We have a ton in common, we make magic in the sack, she’s fun, funny... and she’s been a grown-up through all of this. It really might be worth all the risk and potential drama...
...Whoah, there, cowboy. Calm down. Take it one day at a time with this chick. She’s still a Castellucci, and you know how they are about revenge.
That thought, though, doesn’t dampen my mood one bit. Or my boner, either.
My thoughts go back to that short and somewhat weird phone call after a little while, and I frown and mull it while I’m checking our stores of ice, juices, and booze. She had seemed very stressed out. Holding it together well, but stressed.
It’s family shit, I’m sure. Her dad is a legendary asshole and a chauvinist, and I’m sure he doesn’t spare his kids. He also made enemies of our family by grabbing my mom’s ass at The Don’s daughter’s wedding five years ago. He says the cold war between us started because she punched him—for something he denies doing.
Everyone else, including The Don, says the bastard had it coming.
If I were a woman and that guy’s daughter, it would be absolute hell for me. It must be hell for Arya, with her brains, ambition, and that super obvious desire to prove herself. Apparently, her mom is even worse than her dad—a controlling shrew, though I don’t know the details.
It’s pretty common for the different Families to live together until they marry or after a divorce, but the problem with that is that if you live at home, even in a mansion where everyone has their own wing, some parents will try to treat you like a kid when you’re almost 30. My guess is they fall into old habits again—or never break them.
If I were an asshole, I could probably turn her against them. But they seem to be doing a pretty good job of that all by themselves. Besides, I’m not big on manipulating people. I’m probably bad at it , too. I can usually see it coming a mile away, but that doesn’t make me practiced in doing it myself.
Arya shows up 12 minutes later. There’s rain in her hair, and her eyes look tired. There’s a very promising-looking overnight bag in one hand and her laptop bag over her shoulder. She offers a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes: strained, polite, empty.
“You look like you’ve been dealing with assholes all day,” I quip, and she smirks and nods silently.
I help her out of her coat. She sets the overnight bag down in the bottom of my coat closet. I almost tell her to go drop it off in the bedroom, but she looks too troubled to start hitting on her yet.
“What is up with this weather? It’s eighty-five degrees and raining. It feels like New York in summer.” She starts with a good-natured grumble about nothing. But she’s talking, and that’s an opportunity.
“It’s those Baja hurricane remnants,” I tell her. “That’s why the big weather shift.” I pause, consider. “Are you okay?”
“No,” she replies flatly. “But that has nothing to do with you this time, so don’t worry about it.” She lifts an eyebrow just a little. “You mentioned something about blender drinks?”
I smirk. “That I did. pina colada, a couple kinds of daiquiri, frozen margaritas.”
“I’d love a margarita. You like sweet booze?”
“I’m more of a beer man, but I learned they’re fun to drink with other people. Also, a lot of women like them on hot days.” And I have absolutely always been a ladies’ man.
“That’s true. Besides, I kind of like a drink that tastes like a dessert but kicks like booze.”
I get to work putting the margaritas together. “So, we’re taking a look at all our staff, like I said, and I just got the last of the videos. We can review them together later. I would appreciate your help.” Much later, if I have any say in it. I want to solve this thing, but right now, I want her even more.
“Good going.” She hesitates. “Look, I need to ask you a favor, and it’s weird. I’ll understand if you don’t want to do it.”
I lean over and eye her curiously. “Uh... what is it?”
“To cover for what we’ve found out, I had to tell my dad I have a source within your family. He’ll only keep his nose out of our business for so long.”
I wince. “Fuck. That’s the last thing we need right now.”
“Yeah, if he’s not going to be of help, I don’t want to deal with him meddling either. He’s always looking for an excuse to get... violent.” Now, she’s the one wincing. “Anyway, now, he wants to know if anyone else is going to replace Imelda on our staff as a Rossi spy.”
“Huh.” That makes me have to stop and think for a moment. My gut wants to tell her I’ll do anything to keep her from getting in even more trouble with her maniac of a father. However, the rest of me remembers that doing that would betray my own father. “That’s a big ask.”
“I know.” She suddenly can’t look me in the eyes. “I just need something to tell him to keep him from getting suspicious.”
“Mm.” That doesn’t necessarily mean telling the old bastard the truth . “Okay. I’ll keep an eye out for anything, but remember that my father usually makes his decisions without my input.”
She relaxes a little so she can make eye contact again. “Thanks.”
“Does he usually give you loyalty tests?” I ask as I finish preparing the drinks.
“He gives everyone loyalty tests, but I go under a microscope because I haven’t followed their plan for me.”
I recall one of her complaints from before. “Marriage and babies?”
She rolls her eyes, nodding thanks as I hand her one of the drinks. “You got it.”
“Shit. I get leaned on some, but not like that.” I grab my own drink and sit down next to her on the couch. “Doesn’t either of them get that you can’t just magic up a husband and a kid for them—and that you shouldn’t be expected to?”
“Nope.” She rubs her face distractedly, and I realize she’s getting teary-eyed at me.
Shit. “Okay. My point is, I’ve got your back. It’s the least I can do after everything.”
She swallows and nods. “Thanks. Fortunately, he isn’t pushing to meet my source. Right now, anyway.”
I take a swallow of my drink. I’ve gone heavy on the alcohol. There’s something about the tanginess mixed with the burn that I like. “Well, the elephant in the room is, if either one of our families figure out we’re working together—”
“Or fucking,” she points out bluntly, and I stop short for a few beats before I find my voice again.
“Uh... yeah, that, too.”
She smirks at my expression. “You already know my family would go nuts about it.”
I nod. “Same here. Maybe not quite as nuts, but they would. They wouldn’t be able to understand it. We’ve been rivals forever.”
“Yeah, except now, I don’t have my job anymore.”
I wince and nod. “Yeah. I know I had a hand in that—”
“They were just looking for an excuse,” she sighs, surprising the hell out of me. It’s true, but I didn’t expect to be let off the hook, even partly, this fast.
Then again... maybe I’m not.
“You know,” I say as gently as I can, “after a while, there’s no real way to control anyone else’s reaction to you. You can influence it, but a rotten person is just a rotten person.”
She licks her lips. “I know. I have one foot out the door of that place. I even told him that today.”
“Oh, baby,” I sigh before I can stop myself. She lifts an eyebrow, and I shake my head a little as I take another swallow of my drink. “Mm. Look. Threatening to leave is not really going to bother him that much. It’ll probably bother your mom because she’s clingy, but your dad’s the one who burns bridges with people like it’s his favorite hobby. You know our dads used to be friends, right?”
She blinks at me in astonishment. “No, no, I did not.”
I laugh a little at her expression. “Okay. Yeah. Our families have been rivals for a while, but it didn’t get hostile until a few years ago. Your dad and mine started out Army buddies and really close.
“But then, Dad got married to my mom. Dad says your father started drifting away after that. It wasn’t until he got drunk and groped my mom at that wedding that Dad realized he was jealous. He’d wanted Mom for himself.”
She almost chokes on her drink. “Oh, God, that’s gross. Dad and Mom have been married longer than your parents, too.”
“Three years longer. My dad got drunk one night about six months ago and told me the whole thing. That was a really, really weird conversation.”
She’s blinking at me wide-eyed. “I’ll bet. What a fucked-up thing to want to drag us into a war over.” I can practically see her opinion of her father falling a few notches.
“Well, I’m sure they’ll go off pretty violently if they realize we’re seeing each other unless we find a way of handling it. Because my point is, your father’s wanted to fight over less.”
“Yeah.” She looks a little uncertain. “So, what do we do?”
“Play it by ear for now while we work to redeem ourselves, make sure not to let them know anything, and once we’ve found our perp and exposed them, we can work on figuring out what to do about... us. In general.”
She purses her lips slightly. “Us?”
The skepticism in her voice stings. Maybe she thinks it’s too early to talk about “us.” I shouldn’t take that personally, but I have to squash a bit of disappointment.
“Yeah.”
She looks distracted, conflicted... and then, she hides it all behind a smirk. “Jesus, you move fast. What’s that about? You’re not on the rebound from that ex, are you?”
That stings a little, too, and I put on my own smirk. “No, because some of us are grown-ups about this shit. My last relationship ended months ago, and I’m well over it.”
“Yeah, well.” She takes another swallow of her drink. “You make good frozen margaritas, and you’re a lot of fun in bed, but it’s gonna take a lot more than that to get me thinking in terms of ‘us.’”
The challenging stare in her eyes surprises me and heats up my blood. “Oh, yeah? So, what more do you want?”
Her smirk widens and warms just a touch. “Besides my money back, a nice payout for myself, and you not fucking with my work ever again?”
“All of that’s a given. It’s why we’re working together in the first place, besides catching that fucker,” I reassure her at once. “What else?”
Her eyebrows go up, and she thinks about it, her frown looking more like a smile. A promising sight.
“Tell you what,” she says. “I’ll think about it and let you know.”
I have to fight down a grin, but playing it cool or not, I’m delighted. I have my foot in the door with her, and I haven’t needed any bullshit to get there.
We go over the security camera footage for the night of the heist and see absolutely no one in the house who isn’t supposed to be there. Maria spends the night mostly in her room. My brother has a date and comes in late. My parents knock off early after the party...
“Fuck,” I mutter, realizing. “I’m a complete dumbass.”
She looks up. “What is it?”
“My parents held a party earlier that evening. Someone could have slipped off during it and deployed something onto the system to lie in wait for that cash transfer.”
She blinks and sits up straighter. “Oh, crap. Do you know who went to that party?”
“I can get the guest list from the app my mom used to invite people. They were mostly family, but a few brought dates.”
It worries the shit out of me that I somehow managed to completely miss that the heist had happened while my parents had guests. How wrapped up in Arya have I gotten that I missed that?
It’s like finally spending that wild night with her has shocked the clarity back into me. I’ve been off my game ever since my father had asked me to screw her over, and now, I’m getting back to myself.
As I gather the information off my phone, I notice her watching me. She seems a little worried.
“What is it?” I ask after transferring everything I need to my laptop.
“I didn’t ask if you’re okay.” She sounds almost apologetic. “You don’t... you’ve gone from pinpointing when to jack my heist to missing huge details. That’s not normal for you. Are you all right?”
“I...” Shit. She noticed. And yet... she cares enough to say something. That last part has me intrigued.
I can’t tell her the truth. I can’t say that I’ve had her in my head so long that screwing her over like that had felt like the worst thing I’ve ever done. I can’t tell her how much I care about her already, even though I don’t know her that well yet.
But I’m moved. And suddenly, unexpectedly, I’m so horny for her that I can barely see.
I get up and carefully draw the blinds on all the windows. My hands shake a little bit. When I sit back down, I down a sweet, cool, burning swallow of my drink and double-check my pocket for the condoms.
“I’m working on it, baby. I just don’t... I don’t want to think about any of it right now.” Not family drama, not the possibility of a family Judas, not how much I want to punch her dad.
I set the remnants of my drink aside and move over to her, looking into her eyes. They avoid mine for a moment, then stare back at me. “Okay,” she murmurs.
“I just want to be with you right now,” I tell her.
She freezes for a moment as I kiss her, and then her hands settle gently in my hair and slide down to my shoulders. I feel her shivering under my hands as I caress her thigh beneath the edge of her dress. She’s wearing a garter belt again... and my dick starts to throb as I realize she has absolutely worn it for me.
She makes those sweet little sounds against my mouth that she does when she’s turned on: small, musical whimpers of pleasure and desire. My hand slides up to cup her breast and then pushes down the strap of her dress. The bra’s a front-buttoner. I smile at the discovery.
She gasps a little as I unlatch it and push one cup aside. I immediately start kissing her breast like I can’t stop. I run my tongue over her nipple and swirl the tip over her sensitive skin while she moans my name. I can feel her nails against my shoulders. I can feel the way her hips lift under me as I suckle her and pull off the rest of her clothes.
I pull away only long enough to strip off my shirt, then pause in surprise as I see her unbuckling my belt. She’s up on her knees naked, her body gleaming in the good living room lights, and her eyes have a fire in them that intrigues me.
“Lie back,” she tells me.
I lie back on the broad leather couch and let her unfasten my belt and my jeans and pull them off of me. She finds the condoms and opens one, then clambers onto my thighs with the rubber in hand. “I want to make you feel good,” she murmurs, and I catch my breath.
She rolls the rubber onto me slowly, her fingers sliding tenderly over my dick while I struggle to get a full breath. “God, baby,” I groan, and she smiles a little more before going up on her knees again to straddle me.
I watch her settle over my aching length for as long as I can until I finally groan and close my eyes, thrusting up into her. She gasps softly and starts riding me, her low, sweet panting mixing with the soft smack of our bodies bouncing against each other.
I’m not used to being ridden. It rubs me in ways I haven’t felt before, and God, it’s nice to be able to use both hands on her. I can play with those gorgeous breasts of hers as much as I want. I can rub her clit without having to fit my hand between us. Her slow grind builds up my excitement gradually while she excites herself shimmying and rubbing against me.
Soon, we’re both panting and clutching at each other. I grip the cheeks of her ass and arch up into her as she dances over me. She rubs her breasts against my chest. Her nails are in my shoulders, the sting just sweetening each fresh wave of pleasure.
I hear a man’s voice shouting blissfully and realize it’s me a second before she moans in my ear and starts contracting around me. I push in deep and hear her crying, “Yes, yes...” as I explode.
I can’t see. My heartbeat bangs away in my ears, and my voice is a hoarse, animal groan, and cum blasts out of me again and again until I’m completely spent. I relax under her, and she barely catches herself with her hands before settling over me with a soft whimper.
I bury my nose in her hair and hold her gently, struggling to catch my breath. “Oh, baby,” I murmur in her ear when I can speak again. “That felt so fucking good.”
“I’ve... never done that before,” she admits, muttering into my neck.
“I’m just glad... you decided to try it with me,” I manage as I struggle against the urge to drowse. I still need to get rid of the damn condom.
“Me too.” She yawns and then shivers with delight as I pet my hand down her bare back. “Oh... oh. Me too.”