“You gotta admit those handcuffs turned you on.” Jasmine wiggles her dark eyebrows.
“You have major issues.” Emilee sighs.
I check my phone again. Still nothing. I grip it tighter, my annoyance growing with every passing second. Why hasn’t he responded to my texts? It doesn’t take more than a second to send a fucking message. I need something to take my mind off it.
“What do you have planned?” I get Jasmine back on track. Emilee is right; she has issues, and we don’t have time to go through them.
“I’m gonna slash Trenton’s tires,” she answers, twirling her bleach blond hair around her pointer finger. “Maybe bust out some windows. Depends on how much I drink before we go.”
I snort. “Why waste your time? You know he’ll have whatever you do to his precious car fixed tomorrow.”
She holds up her pointer finger. “Doubtful. Pretty boy doesn’t have a job, and he’s already in deep shit with his daddy for getting kicked off the football team.” She presses her thumb to her nose and sniffs. “For them finding that stash of coke in his locker.”
“And who alerted Coach to his stash?” Emilee asks, raising a brow.
Jasmine gives her an innocent smile, showing off her pearly whites. “It was anonymous.”
“Sure, it was.” She snorts.
“I’m in.” The bastard deserves to spend a few days stuck at home for how he did her. Dirty. I’m in the mood to dish out some karma, and since I can’t give it to the boy who deserves it, Trenton’s a good second choice. We both look at Emilee.
She sighs, giving in. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Great.” Jasmine starts to walk backward, but as she goes to pass the men’s bathroom, the door flies open, knocking her forward.
Cross, a member of the Dark Kings, comes barging out of it with his hands shoved in the pockets of his ripped jeans. He wears a black hat backward and a Wildcats hoodie. All the players on the Wildcats baseball team have one.
“Excuse you,” Jasmine calls out.
He ignores us and continues to walk down the hall and toward the back door exit that leads to the baseball fields. Practice starts in thirty minutes. His chiseled face a mixed mask of annoyance and pissed.
“Fucker,” she calls out, flipping him off behind his back.
Emilee sighs. “Are you just trying to get into trouble today?”
“What? That idiot hit me with the door.” She rubs her ass.
“He’s a member of the Dark Kings,” Emilee whispers, her eyes darting around the now empty hallway.
Jasmine scoffs. “I don’t bow to anyone. And just ’cause you suck a Kings’s dick doesn’t mean I gotta kiss one’s ass.”
I hang my head. “Can we get back on track—”
“I gotta go,” Jasmine interrupts me. “But yeah, I’ll pick you both up a little after ten. Be ready and wear all black. Don’t wanna be seen. And don’t worry about the supplies. I got you covered.” Then she walks down the hallway and out the double doors, heading home for the day.
“Why are we wasting our time? You know she’ll be back with him tomorrow when he calls to cuss her out for what we do tonight.” Emilee sighs.
“Have anything better to do?” I ask.
She goes to answer, but a phone goes off.
My heart races as I look down at mine in my hand, hoping it’s Luca.
“Ugh.” She stomps her foot when she realizes it’s hers.
My teeth grind. Why do I do this? Why do I allow him to get me this worked up? Why do I care so much when it’s very clear he does not?
Ping. Ping.
“Who the hell is blowing up your phone?” I ask frustrated. “Your mother?”
Her parents are very strict. They don’t know just how wild their little girl is. She’s always pretended to be the innocent one in our tight circle. Even now, as a sophomore in college, she waits until they go to bed and then sneaks out to all the parties. I don’t know how she hasn’t been caught yet. I’ve had my mom lie to cover for her before. Jasmine’s too. Eventually, her mother is gonna catch on and ban her from hanging out with us.
Ping. Ping.
We come to a stop, and she shoves her books into my chest. I let out a puff of air, trying not to drop them along with my own.
“Who the hell knows.” She growls, dropping her backpack to the floor and digging her phone out of the side pocket.
Ping.
“It’s Bones.” She sighs as her blue eyes run over the screen.
“Of course, it is.” I roll mine. She can get her fuckboy to message her, but I can’t get the guy I love to even acknowledge me.
She throws her backpack over one shoulder and types away. “He wants me to go meet him before baseball practice starts.”
“For a quickie?” I question. “E, you have to stop jumping on that. You’re at his beck and call every minute of the day.” I have never seen a girl so dick whipped. It’s actually pathetic. And the truth is, she doesn’t even love the guy. She is just that obsessed with his cock. And him with her pussy.
Her blue eyes pin me with a challenge, and I stiffen, knowing what’s coming. “Do you wanna be the pot or the kettle?”
Her words make me hate Luca Bianchi even more. Damn him … “It’s different.”
“Explain it to me.” She arches a perfectly dark brow while pushing a hip out.
I can’t.
The only difference is that I love the guy who uses me.
Sighing, she adds, “I’m sorry, I …”
“It’s okay.” I wave her off. It’s not her fault I’m pissy. Or that Luca has forgotten about me.
She bites her pink painted bottom lip. Her blue eyes drop back down to look at her phone, and I see her fighting the battle of telling him to go to hell or meeting him to fuck his brains out.
“His dick can’t be that good,” I argue.
She rips her books from my arms. “He’s going through a lot right now.”
Bones is … for lack of a better word, a fucking prick! Everyone knows him and his three friends as the Dark Kings, and they’re all fucking arrogant pieces of shit. Titan, Cross, and Bones are all seniors this year with Luca. Grave, Bones’s younger brother, is a junior. The Kings are just like Luca—going to take over for their fathers and rule the world. Emilie, Jasmine, and I chose to stay because we didn’t wanna leave each other behind. We knew that day would come eventually, but we’re trying to put it off for as long as we can.
“And your pussy is his therapist?” I ask.
Ping.
“I gotta go.” She storms down the hall, her mind made up. The pinging fades as she leaves me to go meet him in the men’s locker room to suck his dick.
With a sigh, I grab my black leather strap to my white Louis Vuitton Discovery backpack and turn the corner, heading to the library. Most students are done for the day, but I stay late on Fridays to do an hour tutoring session. I’ve always made straight A’s. And when the school year started, I found a few kids in my classes weren’t quite ready for the curriculum, so I offered to tutor them.
I walk up the first flight of stairs, my black leather Louboutin Mary Janes clapping on the white tile. Turning the corner, I proceed up the next, when a book slips from my grasp. It tumbles down the steps, making a loud slapping noise that bounces off the abandoned hallways. “Shit.” I run after it. I bend down to pick it up, but someone beats me to it. I look up from my crouched position at the man who stands before me. He holds my book in one hand and his cell in the other.
I stand and rip my book from his grip. “Nice to see you haven’t lost your phone.” Then I turn and start to walk away from him, stomping my heels up the second set of stairs.
“Haven …” He grabs my upper arm, pulling me to a stop.
I spin around to face him, yanking out of his hold. “Don’t you start.”
“I didn’t have any cell service where I was,” he explains, his big dark eyes pleading for me to forgive him.
I don’t.
B
ut now I know he was out in the desert or the woods somewhere. Probably helping his father bury a body. Or two. His father considers that as close to bonding as they will ever get. But what do you expect when your dad is a Don; the ringleader of the Italian-American Mafia?
I wish that had deterred me from falling in love with him. Sadly, when I found out, I was already too far in. That’s the scary thing about love; it blurs the lines of right and wrong. You choose to ignore what you should question because it’s dangerous and thrilling at the same time.
“How long have you been back?” I demand.
Walking up the three stairs, he closes the distance between us, forcing me to look up at him even though he stands on the step below me. He hates people looking down at him for any reason. Reaching up, he pulls the strap of my backpack off my shoulder.
I go to pick it up. “Luca …”
But he grabs my arm, stopping me from bending down. “An hour.” He answers my previous question and cups my face with his warm hand. My breath starts to quicken. The feeling in my chest has my thighs tightening.
No! I will not allow him to do this to me.
“I knew you had tutoring, so I came straight here to see you.”
As I look over his freshly shaven face, I know he’s showered recently. I can still smell the lingering citrus of his bodywash on his flawless skin. The guy is too gorgeous to be real. It’s truly unfair. He has his father’s jet black hair. Normally, he wears it spiked and shorter on the sides, but right now, he has it combed back. And he has dark eyes, but not as dark as his father’s or his brother’s. They’re framed with long dark lashes. A chiseled jaw. Dressed in a black fitted T-shirt and dark jeans, he looks utterly delicious.
His late grandfather is from Italy, but his father was born in New York and lived there until he moved to Vegas when he was fourteen. Where Mr. Bianchi met Luca’s mother. Her father owned a very large concrete company, and concrete is useful when you have bodies that can be hidden under the new foundations being poured daily. No one has ever come out and told me, but I connected the dots. His father wanted access to the properties to hide evidence and bodies, and he got it when he married Luca’s mother. I’ve done my research on the Mafia; they marry for power. In some cases, that even means marrying blood relatives. But his father moved back to New York when Luca was ten, leaving Luca and his brothers here. He knew they would do his bidding in Vegas while he was able to control New York. He was able to cover more ground that way. All part of his plan to take over the world.
He wraps his free hand around my waist and pulls me to him. I don’t pull away. Fuck, I’m just as bad as Emilee.
Dick whipped.
Good dick will make a girl stupid. I should become a lesbian.
“I have to go,” I tell him but make no move to pull away.
“Cancel,” he whispers, his lips inches from mine. My heart begins to beat faster, knowing he wants to spend time with me.
You stupid bitch. “I can’t …”
“Yes, you can,” His head dips to my neck, and he kisses the tender spot behind my ear. My head falls back, and I moan but cut it off in case any classmates are lingering. “I’ve missed you.” He licks up my neck to the shell of my ear. “I thought about you the entire time I was gone.” His voice drops to a growl, and I feel his hard cock against my lower stomach when he rubs his hips against me.
“Lie …” I breathe but so badly wish it was the truth.
His hand travels up my back and fists my hair. I wore it down today in hopes that I would see him. “I pulled up that naughty picture I took of you last week.” Oh, shit. “The one where you’re lying on my bed naked with your hand between your legs. I stroked my cock thinking of you.”
“Luca.” I pant. Please don’t stop.
“I pictured you on your knees while I fucked your mouth …”
I whimper. That’s his favorite. He loves it when I give him head. He says I’m the best, but I call bullshit. It’s not that hard to open your mouth and let a guy fuck it. It doesn’t take any actual talent. But then again, I’ve never had a dick, so I guess not all girls suck the same. I did have a friend who couldn’t lick a lollipop more than five times before she would just bite it to pieces. I wonder if that’s how she gives head?
His free hand slides up my side to my chest. Dipping into my crimson V-neck shirt, he squeezes my breasts over my bra. I want him to rip the constricting fabric off. “And I imagined you on your hands and knees while I fucked that pretty little cunt from behind.”
My hands grip his black fitted T-shirt. My thighs tighten when he talks to me that way. He has a filthy mouth in and out of the bedroom. It’s one thing I’ve always liked about him. I’m not as prissy and uptight as the kids at this college think.
His mouth is on mine. My back is pressed into the rock wall. Nightfall covers us in darkness. I don’t care. All I can think about is him. All I can feel is him. And all I want is him.
“Please, Luca?” I pull away, panting.
His hands trail down my shirt and over to my ribs. They burn like my insides. My entire body is on fire. “You sure you’re ready?” he asks as his lips kiss my neck.
“Yes.” My hands grip his shirt, yanking him closer to me. I can’t get him close enough.
He reaches for the hem of my shirt and rips it over my head. I almost cry as the hot air hits my bare skin. I don’t have a bra on, and my nipples ache as they rub against the fabric of his shirt.
“Fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long …” He trails off, and then I feel his lips on my nipples.
I gasp and dig my hands into his hair. Thrusting my head back, I bang my head on the rock and close my eyes. His hands go to my jean shorts, and I help him shove them along with my underwear down my legs.
His hands go to my naked thighs, and my legs shake. “Nervous, baby?”
I can hear the amusement in his question. I’m a virgin, and I’m very aware that he isn’t. I could kill that bitch Lucy Bellinger for fucking him. She took what I wanted. He never really dated her, but they hooked up. Over and over again. Her dad is friends with his, and they’re always over at his house, so it was bound to happen. Typical story—he used her, and she fell for him. But that was two years ago. She moved away, and somehow, he noticed me. We’ve been seeing each other for a month now, and although that’s not much time, I’ve known him all my life. I’ve wanted him for years. Now is my chance, and I’m not going to let it go.
“No,” I growl and undo his jeans.
“I’m going to fuck you right here,” he warns me. As if I should be scared.
“Yes.” I’m not.
He finds my hands and shoves them above my head, pinning them to the rock in one of his. I whimper, pushing my hips into his.
His free hand reaches between our bodies and moves between my legs. He cups my pussy before sliding a finger into me.
“Luca …” I gasp his name, the sensation making heat run up my spine.
“Fuck, you’re wet, Haven,” he growls, lowering his head to my neck. “And so fucking tight. Your pussy is going to feel so good.”
I pump my hips, not really knowing what I’m doing but needing more. “Please?” I beg.
He removes his finger, and then I feel the head of his cock rub against me. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, he pushes into me.
I scream out into the dark night as he stretches me, and a burning sensation rips through me.
He slaps his now free hand over my mouth, pressing my body into the rock wall. It’s the only thing that shields us from my parents’ house. My hands fight with his to release me, but he holds them prisoner above my head.
“Shh,” he whispers, his hot breath hitting my face. The moon shines down on us, making his dark eyes shine. They bore into mine intently, hungrily, causing my pussy to tighten. “You wanted it. Now take it.”
I willingly gave him my virginity. Our first time wasn’t slow and sweet because that’s not him. It’s not me. I like when he hurts me. W
hen he chokes me. Or when he rips my shirt, throws me on the bed, and fucks me until I can’t walk. He takes great pleasure in making my body weak.
My pussy clenches at the thought, knowing how rough he’ll be since it’s been a few days. He’s always the most barbaric after he comes back from a job with his father. I used to try to get him to tell me what he did, but he never discloses that information, so I gave up asking.
“I imagined your nails scraping down my back. Your heels digging into my ass. Speaking of ass …” His hand cups it and lifts me off my feet.
I shriek in surprise as he slams my back into the wall next to the window that overlooks the courtyard. I wrap my legs around his narrow hips and hook my heels together. Then his lips are on mine. His tongue forces its way into my mouth, and I welcome it. My hips grind into his, and my hands go to his dark, luscious hair, gripping and pulling. He growls into my mouth before pulling away quickly, leaving my lips feeling swollen and bruised. My underwear instantly soaked.
His dark eyes look down into mine, and he licks his wet lips. “Cancel,” he repeats, now panting. “Tell me I can spend the rest of the day drowning in that pussy of yours.”
CHAPTER ONE
HAVEN
Four years later
THE MORNING LAS Vegas sun beats down on me. Sweat covers my face, neck, and chest along with the rest of my body. “Garden” by Halsey blares in my ears from my wireless earbuds. My phone strapped to my upper arm.
My feet pound the ground as I push myself, knowing I don’t have much farther to go. This is my morning ritual; wake up, drink a cup of coffee, and then run until I feel like I’m dying. It helps clear my mind and keeps me in shape.
I see the old stone and stucco mansion come into view at the end of the two-lane road in the exclusive neighborhood. I’m sucking in breath after breath, and my sides burn, but I push harder. Faster. My thighs scream, and my feet hurt, but I don’t quit. I’m too close. My once tight ponytail has come loose, and strands hang down around my face, sticking to my sweat-covered neck and chest. It makes my skin itch.
My mind wanders, thinking about where I am in my life right now and why I’m still stuck here in Sin City. At twenty-four years old, I’m currently living with my parents and trying to get my train wreck of a life back on track. I’m what most would call a fucking mess. But am I supposed to have my life figured out at my age? I’ve heard stories from others that you’re expected to go crazy in your twenties, to party and sleep around. If you ask the right people, they’d say I’m on the right track.
Code of Silence Page 2
