Dark Desire (Famiglia Book 1)

by A. J. Daniels

  Seeing Braxton standing in front of me, looking hot as all get out in his designer suit with his dark hair slicked back, is making me want to throw caution to the wind and tell my brain to take a hike. Especially when he lifts a hand and runs a thumb over his bottom lip. Dear god, that lip! Memories of wanting to suck on that lip flash through my mind. My core clenches.

  “If you change your mind I’ll just be over there.” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder at the table directly across from mine and I have to swallow back a groan.

  If I thought it was going to be hard trying to concentrate with him in the same room, then it was going to be damn near impossible with him sitting directly across the room with his table facing mine. It’s then that I realize he gave me his name but I never gave him mine.

  “It’s Klara by the way. Klara Blouin.” I grin and make my way over to my table. Butterflies take flight in my belly when I overhear him repeat my name.

  “Klara.”

  I briefly wonder what it would sound like leaving his tongue while he orgasms, his body crushing me beneath its weight. Then I shut the door on those thoughts and get to work on writing this paper.

  An hour in and all I’ve done is stare at the blinking cursor, watching as it mocks me. I take in a deep breath and exhale it through my mouth knowing that I’m going to end up sitting with him and this paper isn’t going to get written…at least not while I can feel his eyes on me from across the café.

  I tried. I tried so hard to ignore the intense heat of his gaze, but I was weak and found myself involuntarily shooting quick glances out the corner of my eye to see what he was doing. The first time I looked over I was shocked to see him with his nose in a book. That skyrocketed my attraction to him up another notch…or two. To me there was nothing hotter than a man who enjoyed reading, well, maybe a man in a tailored suit. Sensing someone watching him, he glanced up at me over the top of the book and grinned, sending those damn butterflies loose in my belly again.

  The second time I glanced over it looked like he was in a heated phone conversation with someone. He looked stressed, leaning over with his elbows braced on his knees, a hand running through his slicked back hair. I gripped the ends of the table, having to physically stop myself from going over there and seeing if he was okay, from sliding onto his lap and kissing up that thick neck in hopes of taking his mind off whatever it was that got him so worked up. He never looked up to catch my gaze that time. I was silently grateful because it allowed me time to really take him in.

  Every time I peeked over after that he was watching me. I sigh, closing the lid of my laptop, and secretly wonder what he did if he just happened to be able to spend the day in a café watching me.

  Braxton quirks an eyebrow when I take the seat across from him.

  “Done already?”

  I finger the hair tie around my wrist. It’s something I’ve been subconsciously doing ever since I was little. Whenever I was nervous or feeling a little anxious I would run my finger under the hair tie and spin it around my wrist. I didn’t do it as often anymore because I had my gravity blanket now, but I couldn’t exactly carry that around with me wherever I went. So, the hair tie acted as my travel-sized gravity blanket. “No, I decided to call it a day.”

  “Must’ve gotten a lot done in an hour to already be calling it a day, Mia Bella.” The corner of his mouth tipped up into a knowing smirk.

  I shrug. “I was a bit distracted. Couldn’t concentrate.”

  I look at him pointedly, but that half smirk turns into a full grin, as if he knows exactly what he does to me.

  “I see.” That damn thumb is back to running across that bottom lip. It’s like a magnet, always drawing my eyes in, with a direct line to my pussy. “Does that mean the rest of your day is free to spend with me?”

  “Um, like a date?” I ask, shifting nervously in my seat.

  His eyes darken, his features going cold. “I don’t date, Mia Bella. But you… there’s something about you that makes me want to forget everything I know.” He looks away and swallows hard before turning those intense eyes back on me. I want to ask him what he means by that. Why would I make him want to forget everything he knows? I want to know what secrets lie within his heart.

  “Will you spend the day with me, Klara?”

  No, my brain screams.

  Yes, my heart screams back.

  Fuck yes, my body screams in agreement. My nipples hardening beneath my thin sweater at the sound of my name on his tongue again.

  “Okay.” I nod. I would do the responsible grad student thing tomorrow, but today… today I was going to throw caution to the wind, tell my brain to shut up, and enjoy the here and now. I haven’t been able to get Braxton out of my head since last night; his touch, his smell, the feel of his hard body pressed against me, all of it was a heady combination.

  As much as I want to see where this thing goes, part of me knows I’ll never be the same after Braxton leaves, because he will leave. He as much as told me that himself. Braxton was going to break me, and maybe I was just stupid enough to let him.

  “TELL ME, WHAT’S your paper on, Mia Bella?”

  The city disappears around us as Braxton zooms up Austin Terrace. After we left the café earlier this morning he asked me what my favourite things to do around the city were, and then he made us do them. The Hockey Hall of Fame, shopping at Eaton Centre, walking through Union Station.

  I always used to think the station looked like a miniature Grand Central station, but I had never been to New York so I could be completely off base with how similar they are. But Union Station and Eaton Centre were connected by an underground walkway. He wanted to drive us to the shopping centre, and I insisted that I wanted to walk through the underground pathway. I told him he could drive if he wanted to but I was going to walk it. He eventually caved, slipping his hand through mine, not letting go even after we made it through to the other side.

  There was nothing extravagant about our day, it wasn’t the typical romantic date and I was surprisingly okay with that. I was more than okay with it. This date, spending the day with Braxton exploring the city the way I loved, was better than any romantic date I have been on.

  His hand squeezes my knee and I realize I’ve been so deep in thought about our day that I never answered his question.

  “It’s um… it’s about the connection between mental health, diet, and exercise.” My cheeks heat and I turn to look out the window, knowing the question that usually follows when I tell someone about the topic of my grad paper. It was the same subject I chose to do my thesis on when I was an undergrad, but now I was able to spend more time on the research and expand on it.

  What made you decide on that particular subject? I can see how the rest of the night will go. He’ll ask what made me choose that particular subject, and because I can’t lie, I’ll tell him it’s because I struggle with mental illness on a regular basis. He’ll look shocked, but try to play it off like it doesn’t bother him, but I’ll see in his eyes that it does. He won’t end the day though, he’ll politely continue whatever he has planned and then take me home. He won’t come in either, and he won’t call or text.

  I hold my breath, waiting. I close my eyes wishing—not for the first time—that I was normal. That I didn’t have this daily struggle going on inside me. But I’m not normal, and I do struggle on a daily basis. It’s not that I’m ashamed of my disease. It’s that I hate the sympathetic looks people give me when they find out I have anxiety and depression.

  I have a disease, but I am not my disease. I am stronger than it, and I refuse to let it win. I refuse to be another statistic in a textbook. Do I have my bad days? Fucking right, I do. But I don’t let one day dictate the rest.

  Braxton is quiet when he pulls up to the gates of castle Casa Loma. The grounds look like they’ve been closed for a while, and when I chance a glance at the dashboard in the car I see that the grounds should’ve been closed to the public almost two hours ago. A guard runs out and opens th
e gates, ushering us through. I want to question him about it, but then the castle comes into view and words fail to form.

  The castle sits against the backdrop of a newly darkened sky, spotlights on the ground are focused up on the castle, causing it to almost…glow? There’s a light in the fountain in the centre of the drive, illuminating the water.

  He parks the sleek black coupe. Stepping out and walking around the front of the car to open my door. I’m suddenly more nervous and anxious around him now than I’ve been all day. It doesn’t make sense, but then again, it does. He never responded when I told him the topic of my paper, of what I’ve worked the last six years towards—four years of undergrad and getting my bachelors, followed by a combined two year program that’ll award me both my Masters and my PhD in a few short weeks. I realize that I so desperately want him to be different, and if he’s going to play the polite gentleman only to leave me wondering what I did wrong later then I’d much rather skip the charade and call it a night right now. I’d much rather go home and Netflix and chill by myself than spend more time with him wondering what’s so wrong with me that he can’t look past my anxiety.

  Braxton reaches a hand out for me to take but I hesitate. Do I want to put myself through this? Can I really sit through another few hours of being around him?

  “Mia Bella? Our dinner is waiting.” He stands with his hand still outstretched, waiting for me to accept it and step out of the car but I just can’t. “Klara?” There’s a hint of concern marring his voice but I can’t force myself to look up at him right now. I’m having a hard-enough time breathing. My vision is blurring and I feel like I’m going to pass out at any moment.

  I hear Braxton curse before he’s gripping my hips and turning me in the seat to face him as he kneels down in front of me, face to face. His hand wraps around my nape and he forces my head down between my knees. “Breathe, Klara. Just breathe for me.”

  I want to tell him that I can’t. That it’s too hard, it feels like there’s a weight pushing down on my chest, and no matter how hard I try to get it off it just won’t budge. Braxton keeps talking to me, his voice low and soothing as he whispers in my ear, his breath tickling the side of my face.

  “Focus on my voice, Mia Bella. Focus on me, nothing else, and just breathe.”

  It’s getting a little easier. The weight becoming lighter and lighter with every word that he whispers. When he senses that I’m okay, Braxton places a soft kiss on my forehead, his lips lingering against my heated flesh.

  “I-I’m sorry.” I’m about to ask him to just take me home but the next words out of his mouth have me stopping.

  “It’s okay, Klara. It’s not my first rodeo.”

  “What—”

  “Come,” he takes my hand in his, closing the car door behind me and setting the alarm. “I’m starving, and I know you must be, too.”

  “Why…What…” My mind is racing with so many questions. What did he mean it wasn’t his first rodeo? How did he know exactly what to do to stop my attack?

  He places a hand on my lower back, urging me up the front stairs and through the entrance. Casa Loma has been one of my favorite places in this city ever since I discovered it back in high school. I love doing the guided tour and finding out who used to live here. It’s usually always full of tourists walking around, but tonight there’s no one here except for us.

  Braxton steers us down the hallway to the left. We pass by the library, which is one of my favorite rooms in the castle, and then the dining room. I frown when we walk by, sure he said we were having dinner here. But then we enter the conservatory and I stop breathing. The only light coming from the candles on the lone table in the middle of the room, and the moonlight shining down from the stained-glass skylight.

  Once we’re seated the waiter arrives with our meals covered by a metal dome, and places a plate down in from each of us. When he lifts the lid, I’m expecting a glamorous meal but what appears on the plate is…a slice of pizza. I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out. Once I get a handle on myself I glance up at Braxton, worried that I may have embarrassed myself again with my outburst. But he’s just sitting there, staring at me. Something flashes in his eyes but then it’s gone as a smile pulls at his lips.

  “Had to leave something for the second date. Couldn’t do all the romantic on the first.” He raises an eyebrow at the pizza as if asking for my approval.

  “Pizza is perfect. Thank you.”

  The rest of dinner goes by in a blur. I tell him about my family, about Adrienne, and he asks more questions about school and what my plans are for after graduation next month. He tells me about his family, that yes, his family is from Italy. Sicily to be exact. He talks about his best friend since childhood, Antonio, who also moved here with his family around the same time Braxton’s did. And that he thought his parents must’ve thought they were funny giving him an English first name when the rest of the family all had Italian first and last names. When I ask him about what he does for work, his answer is a little more clipped, less forthcoming.

  “Finances. I work a lot in investments,” was the only answer I got before he switched the conversation back to me.

  ***

  It’s late by the time we pull up in front of the apartment I share with Dri. I’m tired but I don’t want this day to end yet. I’ve had fun with Braxton, and I guess a part of me is scared that once I step out of this car and close the door that’ll be it. I have no idea how to get a hold of him, or even where he works.

  He surprises me again when he rounds the car to open my door, helping me out, then proceeding to walk me to my door. Braxton turns me around and pushes me back into my apartment door before I can get my key out to unlock it. His lips find mine, his tongue running along the seam, silently coaxing me to open for him. I moan when I do and his tongue slides in, finding mine.

  “You make me lose my mind, Klara. Make me want to lose control.” He presses soft kisses to the corner of my mouth and along my jaw to that secret spot behind my ear. “Losing control is dangerous in my life, but you’re like a drug, Mia Bella. A drug I can’t seem to walk away from.”

  Fingers skim down my sides, around my hip and over my ass, making me arch into him. Braxton growls when I rub against him, his lips seeking out mine again.

  Somewhere in the distance my brain registers the sound of a ringing phone, but all I can concentrate on in this moment is Braxton’s lips working against mine, his strong arms wrapping around me.

  The ringing stops and starts again not even a second later. Braxton curses, his eyes pained when he pulls away from me and reaches into the pocket of his dress pants to retrieve the culprit.

  “De Luca,” he barks.

  I should give him his privacy and turn around to unlock the apartment door, but I don’t. Instead, my fingers find the button on his suit jacket and undo them before I can reach for the buttons on his dress shirt, his hand wraps around my wrist, halting my progress.

  “I have to go, Klara.”

  “Oh. Okay,” I gulp, turning around and praying my hand doesn’t shake as I reach out and slide the key in the lock.

  Before I can open the door, I feel him behind me. A hand sweeps my long hair off my shoulder, his breath warm against the nape of my neck. “‘Til next time, beautiful,” he says, placing a soft kiss on my shoulder and then he’s gone.

  ***

  Sundays have always been my do-nothing days. The days where Dri and I stay in our pajamas and spend the day either catching up on shows we missed throughout the week or indulging in a movie marathon. Sometimes it entails me getting lost in the newest book I downloaded on my kindle while Dri catches up on her reality tv shows. I can’t stand those shows. They’re so overdone, and have they ever actually been ‘reality’? I feel like a good percentage of them are all scripted. And the drama isn’t my thing either. Although, I must admit that my one guilty pleasure was Total Divas… for like the first season.

  But today is different. Today, I can’t seem to f
ocus on the book currently pulled up on my kindle, my mind instead choosing to drift to Braxton and what he’s doing today and the kiss we shared in the hallway. I find myself wanting to know things about him I shouldn’t. Like, how does he take his coffee, or is he more of a tea guy? What does he do on his days off? What music does he listen to? Does he prefer summer or winter in the city? Does he even like the city, or is he more of a country man?

  I giggle then instantly slap my hand over my mouth and look over at Dri in slight horror but her full attention is still on the tv. I slump back further into my side of the couch, relieved that she didn’t hear my slip.

  There’s no way that Braxton prefers the country over the city. I can’t even imagine him, in his tailored, designer suits sitting on a porch swing of a farmhouse, surrounded by nothing but open land. The two just don’t mesh together. The idea of open land, no one for miles, is appealing. No one to hear me scream while Braxton pounds into me from behind, my hair wrapped around his fist, my back arched just for him.

  I jump up from my spot on the couch, sending my kindle falling to the carpet. My cheeks heat as Dri glances up at me, concern written on her face.

  “I, um,” I clear my throat. “I’m going to get coffee. You want anything?”

  “You okay?” Dri asks, quirking an eyebrow.

  “Fine. Just need a caffeine pick me up.” I paste on a smile, hoping she doesn’t sense my unease. She doesn’t.

  I’m dressed in skinny jeans, my favorite pair of Vans, and a tank top and bounding down the stairs of our building less than five minutes later. As I push open the heavy glass door, a dark figure leaning against the brick wall catches my attention.