Chapter Ten Leo
There were nightmares, and then there was the colossal fuckup I currently found myself in. On the outside, I appeared to have everything under control. I was the gallant knight comforting Drea in her freak-out.
But inside, I felt like I’d been skinned alive.
Raw.
Aching.
Agonizing.
I’d spent the last year arguing that our meet-cute hadn’t meant anything. That I hadn’t experienced the lightning bolt. That I probably just wanted Drea because I’d finally met a woman I couldn’t have.
But now I’d touched her. Intimately.
I’d tasted her.
And I was free-falling harder than I ever had before.
Despite wanting to lose my shit, I kept every raging emotion shut down. I kept the same cool indifference I did when torturing or tracking.
After slipping inside a waiting SUV, Drea and I buried our heads in our phones. Since I knew Rafe was preoccupied, I just sent a text to Gianni.
Hey. I’m dipping.
K.
Favor, plz.
Hot blonde on my lap.
Won’t take long.
A few seconds passed before he typed
Fine.
A woman named Bianca Caprese–that’s her maiden name. Married now.
New pussy?
Associate of new pussy
U owe me.
I’m good for it.
It was a little close for comfort to be running a security check on Drea’s cousin after the silence we’d just sworn. But I knew Gianni would be too preoccupied with the woman on his lap to be suspicious.
I flicked my gaze over to Drea. Her manicured nails flew over her keyboard. When she caught me looking, she said, “I’m letting Bianca know I’m heading to her place.”
“You aren’t saying who's taking you?”
With an exasperated look, she replied, “Seriously, Leo? Give me some credit.”
I chuckled. “Just checking.”
Since we were both still overwhelmed from what had occurred on the dance floor, we made the rest of the drive in silence. Like the tech master he was, Gianni texted back.
Clean. But watch your ass. She’s married to Bolyshev Bratva.
Thanks, G.
When the SUV came to a stop, I waged war with myself for a few moments before flinging open the door. The rational side of me claimed there was absolutely no reason why Guilio couldn’t see Drea safely to her door. That I’d done enough tonight when it came to her.
But like most of my life, I ignored the right thing to do. As I came around the back of the SUV, Guilio was helping Drea out. At the sight of me on the sidewalk, Drea’s brows popped. “What are you doing?”
“Walking you to the door.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Yes, it is.”
With a playful smile, Drea teased, “I don’t think some thugs have been waiting to jump out of the shrubbery to attack me.”
“And I’d argue this is New York, and you’re Raphael Neretti’s fiancée. We can never underestimate what our enemies might do.”
She nodded. “If you say so.”
After climbing the stairs, Drea reached for the door before her hand froze midway. “Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?”
“No key,” she lamented.
I held up my finger. Reaching into my coat pocket, I took out my wallet. Flipping open a side pocket, I took out a gold key that shone in the porch light.
Bending over, Drea asked, “What is that?”
“It’s called a Bump Key.”
She furrowed her brows. “Is it like some weird masterkey?”
“Sort of. It’s cut specially so that when it’s struck while inside a lock, it’ll jump all the pins into the open position.”
Drea laughed. “Of course, you’d have some mafia trick.”
“I knew you’d be impressed.”
After inserting the key into the lock, I made a fist before bringing it down on the exposed part. And like magic, it worked.
I followed Drea up two flights of stairs. When she got to the last door on the right, she turned around with an impish grin. “Do you have another one of those handy?”
“Sadly, no.” When her face fell, I wagged my brows. “I have another trick up my sleeve.”
Once again, I rifled through my wallet. This time I took out a heavy Visa card. Sticking it in the doorjamb, I started shimmying it up and down. Once again, I worked my magic.
After pushing the door open, Drea started to go in, but I stopped her. “Let me go first.”
She huffed out a frustrated breath. “Once again, I think you’re overreacting.”
“Your cousin, who belongs to a New York family we aren’t allies with, is married to a man in Bolyshev Bratva. Correct?”
“Wait, how could you possibly know that?”
With a wink, I replied, “I did a quick background check on the way home.”
“I should’ve known,” she muttered as she followed me inside. One lamp burned in the far corner before Drea threw on the light switch.
Gazing around, I remarked, “Nice place.”
“It’s Bianca’s. She and her husband have a home in Soho.”
I furrowed my brows at her. “Why does she have her own place if she’s married?”
With a playful smile, Drea asked, “Oh, didn’t your background check tell you?”
“Smartass,” I uttered with a grin.
“If you must know, Bianca’s husband prefers the company of others.”
“Ah, a mistress?”
“More like a mister.”
My brows shot up in surprise. “A gay pahkan’s son?”
“Unfortunately for him, yes.”
“Jesus, he must have a death wish. I mean, it’s not like the famiglia accepts being gay, but it’s nothing like the Russians.”
“I know.”
As I thought about her cousin being in a loveless marriage, I couldn’t help thinking about Rafe and Drea’s future. “It has to be horrible for her.”
“Oh, Bianca isn’t hurting for male attention.”
“What about children? He might be the second son of a pahkan, but they’re still going to expect heirs.”
“You’re full of questions tonight, aren’t you?” Drea teased.
“Sorry. It’s none of my business.”
“You’re right, it’s not.” With a coy smile, she replied, “But to prevent you from wondering all night, they’ll do IUI or IVF.”
“Like in a clinic?”
“Exactly.”
I slanted my brows in confusion. “What’s the difference?”
“In what?”
“In those letters you mentioned.”
Drea blinked at me before heat tinged her cheeks. “Um, well, don’t quote me on this, but I think with an IUI, they take the guy’s…um…”
At her squirming, I couldn’t help saying, “Cum?”
My heart raced at the sight of more red on her cheeks. Ignoring me, Drea said, “Right. They just inject the…”
I chuckled. “Seriously, Drea? You were about to fuck a stranger on a dance floor an hour ago, but you can’t bring yourself to say cum?”
“You said we weren’t going to talk about it ever again!”
“It’s a necessary reference at the moment,” I countered.
Her nose crinkled angrily. “They inject semen straight into the uterus. Happy?”
Since I loved messing with her, I said, “But how do they get to the cum? Does the guy like to jerk off into a cup? Oh wait, is it a turkey baster?”
Drea threw up her hands. “You know what? You can just Google it!
“But I enjoyed your descriptions.”
“Leo, you’re testing my patience.”
Fuck. I loved it when she was riled up. After taking my phone out of my pocket, my fingers flew across the keyboard. It was a few moments into my reading before she brought herself to say anything.
“Please tell me you aren’t doing what I think you’re doing,” Drea huffed.
“They don’t use a turkey baster to get the cum inside. Instead, it’s a very thin catheter. And cum can be frozen. Not like just pop it in the freezer–it has to be cryogenically frozen. ” Holding my phone out to her, I said, “It has a convenient lid to keep all the cum inside.”
She pursed her lips at me. While her mouth stayed surprisingly closed, I knew she was cursing me in her head, and I fucking loved it.
Inwardly, I knew Rafe would have my ass for saying cum a thousand times in front of his fiance.
Of course, he would also have me annihilated for having my hands on his fiancée’s tits and ass.
In the silence, the growl of Drea’s stomach echoed between us, which caused me to chuckle. When she dared look at me, her cheeks had turned the color of an overripe tomato. “Hungry?” I asked.
Recovering from her embarrassment, she replied, “I pregamed for the club with alcohol, not a big meal.”
“Ah, I see.” Walking past her out of the foyer, I headed into the spacious kitchen. After throwing open the fridge door, I was pleasantly surprised to see how well-stocked it was.
As I started perusing the contents, Drea peeked over my shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for ingredients.”
“Um, for what?”
After grabbing the package of salmon fillets, I threw a glance at her. “To cook.”
“Why?”
“You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
“Yes–”
“Me too. So I’ll cook us something.”
Her dark brows shot up. “You know how to cook?”
“Is that so shocking?”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she replied, “Yes, color me surprised a mafia prince knows how to boil water, least of all cook.”
With a wink, I replied, “You should know by now not to underestimate me.”
She laughed. “I’m learning.”
“Why don’t you get changed while I fire up the stove?”
Glancing down at her outfit, Drea asked, “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
It’s distracting me, and if you don’t take it off, I’m not sure if I can behave myself. Forcing a smile, I said, “It looks expensive, and I don’t want you to risk getting anything on it.”
Nodding, she said, “You’re right. I’ll go get changed, and then I can help you.”
“Not necessary.”
“But I want to help.”
“All right. But only if you don’t fuck up my recipe.”
Drea grinned. “I can’t make any promises.”
As she turned to flounce into the bedroom, I let my gaze trail over her retreating form. Just the sight of her lush ass bouncing across the floor caused my dick to jump. Using the clean spatula in my hand, I slapped my cheek. “She’s. Your. Brother’s,” I grunted.
Focusing on something besides Drea’s rocking body, I gathered up the other ingredients to make my go-to meal–Tuscan Salmon.
When Drea reappeared, I’d just started searing the salmon. Gone was the overdone makeup, and her long hair was swept back in a clip. She wore black leggings similar to the ones I’d first seen her in. Instead of a sports bra, she had on an oversized t-shirt.
And fuck me, she was beautiful.
“Smells a little fishy,” she remarked as she hopped up to sit on the counter.
“Don’t you like fish?”
“I do. It’s just that it's usually coming to me cooked on a plate.” Wrinkling her nose, she replied, “I miss the fishy part.”