Secrets and Lies: A Forbidden Mafia Romance

by Norinne, Rebecca

  I laughed. “Tell me about it. I said the same thing to Ben yesterday. That’s one of the reasons I need to stop Jayce. He’s so goddamn confident, convinced he’s unstoppable. His ego is going to be the undoing of SJE sooner rather than later.”

  “So we change things,” she said with the same sort of confidence I found abhorrent in my twin. “You get rid of him and make things right.”

  I snorted. “Yeah? Just like that?”

  “Just like that,” she agreed with a smile.

  “There’s only one thing wrong with your plan,” I pointed out. “He’s the brains and I’m the brawn. That’s what scares me most about doing this. I don’t know the first thing about running St. John Enterprises. I know how to break kneecaps and hide bodies and the people who are loyal to him are going to seize on that.”

  “You need a bodyguard then.”

  “Ha! Good one.”

  “No, I’m serious,” she said. “Hear me out.”

  I gestured for her to continue.

  “How well do you know Aleksei Vasilyev?”

  “I know him well enough to know you’ve lost your goddamn mind if you think I’m going to have that fucking mad man watching my back. He’d sooner gut me than protect me.”

  “You see, that’s where you’re wrong.”

  “Look Arabella,” I said, my tone resolute. “I don’t know what you think you know about Aleksei, but I’ve seen that man in action, up close and personal, and I’m telling you he’s terrifying. He is legitimately the only man I am afraid of.”

  She snickered and with a sing-song voice replied, “Look Xander. I don’t know what you think you know about Aleksei, but I’ve seen that man in action, up close and personal, and I’m telling you … he’s a changed man.”

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I didn’t even try to hide my skepticism. If she thought Aleksei was some sort of saint, she’d lost her damn mind.

  She glared at me for a handful of seconds, then asked, “Do you really think I’d joke about something as important as your life?”

  “Honestly?” I asked. “I don’t really know. Up until yesterday I thought you hated me, so …” I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “I’ve hated you, yes …” She looked away, “… but I never wanted you dead.” She sucked in a breath, held it, let it out in a long gust, and her eyes found mine. “Which is why you need Aleksei.”

  I ran my hand through my hair. “It’s obvious you know something you’re not telling me.”

  She shrugged impishly. “Aleksei is a man in love and let’s just say he’s changed his ways.”

  “Bullshit,” I challenged. “A leopard doesn’t change its spots. And even if it did, Aleksei wouldn’t. Trust me, he’s fucked in the head.”

  “Oh, I’m not saying he’s not the craziest motherfucker you’ll ever meet, but he wants to marry CeeCee and he’s said he’ll do anything to get her to say yes. Protecting you is probably the easiest thing she’ll make him do before she’ll agree.”

  Shit. It was tempting. I didn’t think there was a man alive who would try to go through Aleksei to get to me. If word got out he was leading up my security detail, I could focus on getting things sorted as the head of SJE and not be constantly worried about keeping one eye over my shoulder. Although as Arabella had pointed out before, I’d been doing a shit job of that for some time now.

  I didn’t have the first idea how Aleksei and Ben would get along, but I was confident my best friend would welcome having that scary ass motherfucker by his side when it came to protecting me. That was the great thing about Ben. It didn’t matter who you were or what you’d done—if you were on the same side, that was good enough for him.

  “Okay,” I said nodding. “Set up the meeting. And in the meantime, I’m going to need you to get that sweet little ass over here so we can finish up what we started.”

  She smiled and hummed as she straddled my thighs. “That sounds like an excellent idea Mr. St. John.”

  Snaking my hand between us, I was surprised to find she was still dripping for me.

  “I can’t believe you’re so fucking wet just from sucking me off before.” I dipped a finger between her folds and zeroed in on her clit. “I’d forgotten that about you,” I admitted. When she shivered and pushed her hips forward, I applied more pressure. “Sweet little Arabella Wilson, so prim and proper for the rest of the world, but such a dirty little slut for me.” Her breath hitched and she panted and rolled her hips. I slipped a second finger inside to tangle with the first. “You want me to make you come?”

  “Yes,” she moaned, undulating against me with each steady stroke of my fingers.

  “You want me right here?” I asked as I used my thumb to rub a tight circle over her clit.

  “Please,” she begged. “Please make me come Zan.”

  I secretly loved it when she used the old nickname. “Will you come if I just do this?” I asked, angling toward her g-spot.

  She whimpered and bit her lip until the pink skin went white. “Please.”

  “Not yet,” I told her, devilry in my voice. “I have a lot of lost time to make up for and I want to take my time. Take things nice and slow.”

  “I don’t … want … nice and … slow,” she breathed out between moans. “I want it fast and hard.”

  My cock was in complete agreement, but this first time, I wanted to draw her orgasm out. I didn’t know when we’d get to do this again and I didn’t want it to be over already. Slowly and methodically, I sank my fingers in and out of her, the wet sounds of her pussy mixing with Arabella’s cries of “more” and “harder” and “please.” Her breathing came in fast, agonized gasps and as her whole body trembled, I took her to the precipice of orgasm and then retreated, leaving her empty and sobbing and begging me to fuck her.

  I would—soon—and when I did she was going to have the orgasm to end all orgasms. Our fucking had always been good, but I’d been a boy back then. I was a man now, with a few new tricks under my belt. She’d thank me later, even as she cursed my name now.

  With her legs locked around me, I stood and laid her flat, my big hulking body looming over her small, feminine one. She reached for me, trying to pull me in for another kiss, but I had a different sort of kiss in mind. She’d gone down on me like a goddamn pro, and it was only fair I return the favor.

  Sliding down her body, I propped her legs over my shoulders and settled my head between her thighs, parted her slick pussy, and dragged the broad side of my tongue from her ass to her clit.

  “Fuck, I’ve missed the taste of you,” I growled, taking her clit between my lips and sucking.

  Tapping a quick rhythm against that bundle of nerves with the tip of my tongue, I smiled against her when she convulsed and squirmed and then began uttering incoherent words and phrases while holding my head tight against her cunt. It would be so easy to make her come like this—just a few more seconds, if her moans were any indication—but when she shattered, I wanted her pussy clenching my cock.

  “As much as I’d love to fuck you with my tongue until you were screaming my name, my cock is greedy asshole and he wants a turn.” I nuzzled against her inner thigh before sitting back on my haunches and stroking the greedy bastard in question.

  She laughed, a sexy, throaty sound. “Then by all means, let’s definitely give him a turn.”

  Any other time, I might have stretched this out—prolonged the moment even further—but I needed her, maybe more than I’d ever needed her before.

  When I reached for my wallet to grab a condom, Arabella grabbed my hand. “Is it wrong that I want you bare?” she asked, uncertainty lacing her words

  I felt a rising tide of panic churn low in my gut. I didn’t fuck anyone bare; I hadn’t, in fact, since I’d gotten her pregnant.

  She must have seen the alarm on my face, because she shook her head and muttered, “Never mind, forget I said anything.”

  With my forearm braced next to her head and my body stretched out over her, our f
aces hovered scant inches apart. I searched her eyes, but I didn’t necessarily know what I was looking for. In the span of a few seconds, I was flooded with memories of all the times we’d been like this previously, all the ways I’d made love to her over the course of that one beautiful, heartbreaking year, all the times I’d come inside of her with no barrier between us.

  “I’m clean,” I told her. “I haven’t had sex without a condom since you.”

  “Really?” Her eyes flicked between mine, searching for the truth of my words.

  I dropped a quick kiss to her lips and pulled back. “I couldn’t,” I admitted. “Not after …” I trailed off. I didn’t need to finish my sentence. We both knew what words would have followed.

  “I’m clean too,” she supplied.

  “So no condom them?” I asked, needing her to clarify that was what she truly wanted. I didn’t want her doing something she’d regret later.

  She shook her head, putting and end to the discussion, and pulled my face down to meet hers. Our tongues tangling, she moaned low in the back of her throat. “Now get inside of me,” she murmured against my lips.

  Yes, ma’am.

  Taking my cock in hand, I ran the thick crown over her wet slit and she raised her hips to meet me. “Eager girl,” I laughed and inched forward until I’d breached her opening, the heat of her enveloping me.

  Welcoming me home.

  Holy fucking shit, she was tight.

  I’d had a lot of sex in my life—some of it fantastic, some of it run of the mill, and yes, even some pretty bad lays—but it’d never felt as good as it did with Arabella.

  Never.

  “You’re perfect,” I said, sliding in another inch.

  “Oh god,” she moaned as her head fell back, exposing the long column of her throat. “I’d forgotten how big you are.”

  I snickered. “I don’t know how,” I answered, gliding in another two inches and stopping to savor the feel of her clenching around me. “My dick was just down your throat.”

  “Yeah, but …” she moaned, unable to finish her thought as I pushed forward, tilting my hips to hit the spot she went nuts for. “Oh fuck, yes! Just like that.”

  Her wish was my command as I pulled back and surged forward until there was nowhere else for me to go. “Fuck you feel good,” I growled as I pumped into her with slow and measured strokes.

  When her breathing hitched and she scrunched her eyes closed—a sure sign she was nearing orgasm—I changed tempo, thrusting harder and faster in time to my own labored breaths.

  “Look at me,” I commanded, needing to see her eyes as she came.

  When they sprang open, they were glassy and filled with so much wonder I almost had to glance away. Almost, but not quite … because I was sure if I’d held a mirror up, I would have seen the same exact expression on my face.

  With our eyes locked, I dropped my hand between us and zeroed in on her clit, stroking Arabella insistently as my thrusts grew more controlled and deliberate.

  “Keep those eyes open,” I demanded when her lids started to droop, “and come for me.”

  I pulled back, until only the head of my cock was still inside of her. Hovering there for a couple of seconds, I watched the pulse beat wildly in her neck and then, with a hard, driving thrust, I sank into her and fell forward. Spearing my hand into her hair, I wrapped a thick, ropey lock of it around my fist and pulled her face back so she’d have to look at me when we both came.

  “Now. Come on my cock right now Arabella.”

  “Oh fuck,” came her keening cry. “Holy fucking Christ!” she sobbed as her body broke out in goose pimples and she arched her back on a high pitched moan. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chanted while her channel clenched tightly around me and her orgasm rocked through her.

  “Yes, just like that,” I groaned as I jerked violently and my whole body convulsed. “I fucking love fucking your tight little pussy,” I said from between gritted teeth, as on the next thrust I saw stars dance in front of my eyes.

  With a roar I surged forward one last time and I emptied myself into her barren womb. Collapsing on top of her, I fought for breath while she ran her hands back and forth in long sweeps across the muscles of my back.

  “Holy Christ, woman,” I said into the crook of her neck, “I could fuck you forever.”

  Beneath me, Arabella flexed her hips, sending ripples of pleasure from my dick, up my spine, to the back of my neck. Twisting her fingers in the hairs at my nape, she chuckled and said, “You might regret saying that.”

  Chapter Seven

  Although I joy in thee,

  I have no joy of this contract tonight.

  It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden,

  Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be

  Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night.

  This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,

  May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.

  William Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet

  And so my relationship with Arabella resumed much the way it had begun before: clandestine encounters conducted under a shroud of secrecy, stolen moments carved out of schedules that weren’t our own.

  And meanwhile, the days, hours, and minutes ticked past, counting down the seconds I had left to deliver proof to Jayce that I’d done as he’d commanded. Eight more days. That was assuming he stuck to the original timeline he’d given me. It was hard telling if he’d give me the full allotment or if he’d get fed up waiting and take matters into his own hands.

  Unfortunately, I was no closer to pulling the trigger, so to speak, on my plan than I’d been the moment I’d chosen Arabella over him. And that was a problem because the longer I waited, the more I wondered if I’d be able to go through with it when the time came. I’d spend the past 48 hours concocting and then tossing aside one elaborate plan after the next when I’d seen the inherent flaws of each and every one of them. Finally, an hour ago, I’d decided I didn’t actually need any grand plan to accomplish my aim. It was really quite simple: I’d take out Jimmy and then my brother. Two bullets and done. It was risky, but I had the element of surprise on my side.

  Still, I didn’t know if I could do it alone. Actually, that wasn’t true. I knew I had to be the one to put the bullet in my brother, but I needed someone to act as my eyes and ears while I cornered him. It was risky bringing someone else in on the operation lest they turn on me, but I was almost positive I could trust my friend Ben Volio. We’d been tight since we were boys and he’d been my right hand enforcer the last five years. He was as fed up with Jayce’s whims as I was, but I didn’t know if he was pissed enough to help me commit fratricide.

  Which was why I was sitting in a dive bar in an out-of-the-way neighborhood neither Jayce nor his goons would ever visit, waiting for my friend to join me. Because I had to find out where he stood and the only way to do that was to ask him flat out and trust he wouldn’t rat on me.

  “Whiskey, neat,” came a deep, gravely voice as Ben pulled up a stool. “This ain’t your usual haunt,” he observed, swiveling his head to take in the low, tobacco-stained ceiling and dark pine walls covered with posters featuring beer girls last seen sometime in the mid-1980s.

  “Nope,” I agreed, taking a pull of my Bud Light. “Figured what I needed to say was better shared where the walls don’t have ears and the bartenders don’t talk.”

  “Shit, sounds serious,” he remarked, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket to pay the bartender who’d delivered his shot. Slamming the inferior liquor back, he swallowed and winced. “Shit, I hate cheap whiskey.”

  I held up my bottle in commiseration. “Cheap beer ain’t any better.”

  “This must be serious if you’re drinking that piss.” He laughed. “I haven’t seen you drink anything other than your fancy craft beers in years. So what’s up?”

  I leaned my forearms on the bar and picked at the soggy label. “Something needs to be done about Jayce.”

  Ben c
huckled. “You’re telling me. He’s lost his ever loving mind.”

  I turned my head to take in his face, to read his expression when I spoke next. “I’m going to take him out Ben.”

  To his credit, he didn’t flinch. As if I hadn’t just admitted to the worst sort of sin, he raised his hand to get the bartender’s attention and signaled he’d like two more shots. His Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, he stared back and then nodded. “I know you Zan and I know you wouldn’t do that unless the situation had become untenable.”

  The shots delivered, Ben slid one of them my way.

  “So what’s changed?” he asked before tilting his head back and tossing the liquor down his throat.

  Doing the same, I waited until the hot sting of cheap booze slid down my throat and settled in my belly to answer. “Do you remember Arabella?”

  This time he did flinch. “Shit. That’s a blast from the past.”

  “Yeah,” I concurred. “I know.”

  “What does she have to do with Jayce?”

  I hesitated but I couldn’t figure out why. I’d already told Ben I planned on killing my twin brother; nothing I said now would even come close to that. Scratching the side of my face where my beard had grown thicker, I decided to him in on everything.

  “No one else knows this—at least I don’t think they do—but she’s been in charge over in Wilsonville for the last eight months or so. Old Royce is just a figure-head at this point. She’s the one calling the shots.”

  “Shit man, sweet little Arabella’s a don?” He swiped his large, scarred hand over his closely cropped hair. “I can’t picture it.”

  “Neither could I, but it’s true.”

  “How do you know your intel’s good?”

  “Do you remember the surveillance tape from the warehouse fire?”

  “Of course. Fuck, those assholes covered their tracks good,” he answered with grudging admiration. “Not a trace of who they were or how they’d gotten close enough to do it.”