by Bethany-Kris
“Again,” she demanded.
Joe chuckled darkly, and his hand pressed hard into her lower back. “Liked that, did you? Fuck, this is a nice sight. I’ve got the best view of your cunt swallowing my cock, babe. You’re so damn wet—soaking me to my balls.”
His filthy words were a drug.
She wanted more of them.
And more of him.
“Do it again, Joe.”
Liliana barely got her demand out before he was pounding into her. A hard, brutal rhythm that sent her resting back over the barre, making her hold on for dear life. But damn, it was good, too. So fucking good.
He fucked her fast—relentlessly.
He fucked her wild—breathlessly.
She couldn’t think beyond the sounds of her own moans, the way his fingers felt digging into her skin hard enough to leave marks behind, and the noise their bodies made every time they met.
And Joe …
God, Joe.
Take my cock, Liliana.
Give me that pussy, girl.
And her personal favorite … Don’t you want my cum, ballerina?
She was a shaking, breathless mess against the barre after her third orgasm. And it was only then that Joe finally pulled out of her body, and yanked her leg down. She felt the loss of him instantly, but the deep pulsing between her legs only made her sigh.
Joe put her on her knees.
The condom was gone, then.
“Get my cum, ballerina,” he told her, “and don’t waste a fucking drop.”
Yes, please.
She sucked him off, and smiled at the sight of him losing control above her. So, maybe nothing was hotter than that.
Except the sight of him coming.
And the taste of him sliding down her throat.
Yeah, that was pretty good, too.
Taking a deep breath, and trying to regain her bearings, Liliana leaned back on her heels, and used her hands to hold onto the barre as she stared up at Joe. “About tomorrow—you did say we could do something Monday, right?”
Joe cleared his throat, but a huskiness still remained when he replied, “Depends on what it is, really.”
Liliana tried not to take that personally.
It was a little hard when his cock was still semi-hard, and this close to her face. It was even more difficult because she could still taste his cum on her tongue.
“There’s a charity event—I was hoping you’d come with me,” she whispered.
Joe glanced down at her.
Liliana knew his answer before he even said it.
It still fucking sucked.
“I can’t, Liliana.”
Not, I would, but …
Not even, It’s not my scene, sorry.
No.
Just an, I can’t.
It shouldn’t have felt like a rejection, but it still kind of did. Mostly because she didn’t know what in the hell the deal was with this man, or what he was trying to do with her. But she didn’t like the way this left her feeling a little too used.
No woman wanted to feel used.
“So, is this all we’re doing, then?” she asked him. “We fuck, and meet up at night, or whatever. Nothing else, though?”
Joe’s brow knotted together. “I didn’t say—”
No, she got it.
“Thanks for letting me know, Joe.”
NINE
JOE FELT LIKE a jackass, and that was probably the worst thing about this whole fucking night next to the scowl Liliana couldn’t seem to drop. He had no doubt that he was the cause of her bad mood, and he wished he could fix it.
Shit.
More than anything, he wished he could fix it.
Even as he moved around the women dressed in ballgowns, and the men in their three-piece suits at the charity event, he knew this kind of thing wouldn’t have been his scene to begin with. But … Joe would have come for Liliana, and put a fucking smile on because he was there with her, and nothing else.
Except he couldn’t do that at all.
This event was quite public. Media outside, and the whole fucking shebang. Being pictured and seen with Liliana would have defeated the whole purpose of staying under the radar in New York. And it most definitely would have defeated the purpose of being her bodyguard of sorts that no one was supposed to know about.
Problem was, Joe couldn’t even explain all of that to Liliana. He gave his word that he wouldn’t tell her—he was nothing if not a man of his word.
To everyone else but her, apparently.
Damn.
His thoughts were something else tonight. Punishing and cruel. They were giving him all kinds of hell for being such a fuck up, and frankly, he deserved it.
Slipping in behind a group of too-loud guests at the event, Joe found Liliana with her mother and father just a few steps away. Cella—one of Liliana’s younger sisters—joined them soon after, too.
Joe was in just the right spot—slightly hidden by the group of people, and half in the shadows the cascades of lights created against the backdrop of silk draperies hanging from the walls and ceilings. He wasn’t a huge fan of the way the organizers had decorated the place, but what did it matter about how he felt?
If anything, the way it was set up gave him ample room to move, and yet, stay out of sight at the same time. He knew—at the very least—Lucian had to know Joe was there, if only because the man was the entire reason why Joe knew about the event, and had the ticket to get in the door.
Although, Joe entered the less conspicuous way through the back entrance, and had his ticket snipped there.
The clang of silver against crystal echoed through the speakers strategically placed in the venue, and brought the attention of the very rich guests to the front of the ballroom. A woman standing on the raised platform at the front—where the band had been playing for a good majority of the night—set her glass aside so she had a better grip on the microphone in her hand while she spoke.
Joe wondered why she had to clink her fucking glass into the microphone instead of just speaking into it to begin with.
Who knew why people did what they did. Certainly not him, anyway.
What was this charity event for again?
Women’s shelters, and domestic violence awareness, he thought. Joe couldn’t be sure, but he was pretty sure that’s what all these people had gathered for. His part there wasn’t really to do anything regarding the event, but just keep an eye on Liliana from afar—especially considering Lucian could only get a couple of men inside the place for the night.
Lucky Joe got one of the short sticks on the draw, apparently.
Here he was.
Joe’s gaze drifted to Liliana as the woman at the front began to speak. He could have been over there … with her. She probably wouldn’t be feeling like a discarded piece of trash—yeah, he saw that look of shame and embarrassment she tried to hide the night before. And she certainly wouldn’t be wearing a semi-permanent scowl, either.
“The silent auction in the connecting room will be open in five minutes!”
Shit.
Less people would be around for Joe to use to blend in and hide himself as the guests moved between the ballroom, and the next room for the auction. He didn’t want to risk blowing his cover to Liliana. He didn’t think she would appreciate seeing him there—even if he could excuse it with a lie—after refusing to come with her.
The universe was having a good laugh at his expense.
Or … God.
One of the two.
The quiet conversation happening just a few feet away drew in Joe’s attention for a moment. He had a couple of minutes before he had to find another way to make himself scarce, anyway, so he listened while he could.
Punishing himself more, clearly.
“Why are you in such a shitty mood tonight?” he heard Cella ask.
“Leave her be,” the Marcello wife replied.
Jordyn, Joe knew. The woman’s name was Jordyn. Lucian’s wife, and Liliana�
��s mother. Although, Joe had never gotten a proper face to face with the woman, or even had a conversation with her. It didn’t matter—he could easily see where Liliana took the majority of her features from, the shape of her eyes, to the high cheekbones, and pretty bow-shaped lips. Those eyes were all her father, though.
“Oh, wait—is this about that guy?” Cella asked.
Joe stiffened.
So did Lucian.
“What guy?” Lucian asked.
Liliana gave her sister a look that silently screamed for her to shut up.
Cella only shrugged. “My bad.”
“What guy?” Lucian asked again.
“Joe Rossi,” Liliana muttered, and then sharply to her sister, “And no, it’s not about him, thank you very much.”
“Oh-kay.” Cella’s brow lifted high. “Considering your tone right then, yes, it absolutely is.”
Liliana sighed loudly.
Lucian was still staring at his daughter. “Care to tell me what’s going on between you and Joe?”
“Not particularly, and nothing, now.”
“What?”
“Lucian,” Jordyn said, tugging on the arm of his jacket, “let’s move into the auction room. They’re opening the doors.”
Joe could plainly see the man was not quite finished with his discussion, but his wife had spoken. Clearly, when the wife spoke, the man moved. Much like the men in Joe’s family, too. It was almost comical how no matter where he went, that same thing never changed between husbands and wives.
He glanced at Liliana again …
She was pissed.
Sad.
Uncomfortable.
This was supposed to be a fun night for her, he imagined, and his refusal had ruined her mood and the whole thing.
So, yeah. Maybe Joe understood why when a man cared a great deal about a woman, he simply gave her whatever she wanted to always keep her pleased, smiling, and happy. He would do just about anything to make Liliana happy right then, but he couldn’t.
Duty called.
People were moving.
Joe had to move, too.
Shit, where did she go?
Joe had moved toward the front of the venue when he heard Liliana mention she was leaving the event early, but here it was ten minutes later, and the girl still hadn’t passed him by to exit the building.
Fucking hell.
He had no real reason to be concerned—Liliana might have gotten mixed up in a conversation with someone she knew, or maybe her sister or parents convinced her to stay for a little while longer. It wasn’t necessarily a reason for him to be worried like he was.
Still, he did worry.
A lot.
Something just didn’t sit right with him, and Joe wasn’t the kind of man who ignored when his instincts started screaming at him. Men who had a death wish ignored when something felt off because that’s all it did for them—brought death.
Moving back through the crowd, Joe quickly scanned the people. He searched for the one dress in the crowd—finding Liliana’s wine-red gown would be easier, considering no one else had worn that color. Or at least, not that he had seen.
And then … shit.
There she was.
Tucked into the corner of the room with a man Joe didn’t recognize. The two stood a little too close for his liking. Maybe only a foot apart. The man was smirking, and not in a very kind way. Although, when was smirking ever kind?
It didn’t matter.
Joe could tell by the tension in Liliana’s shoulders, and the way her fists were balled at her sides that she wasn’t comfortable with the man—whoever in the hell he was. Moving closer, at least enough to hear their conversation, Joe was careful about not drawing their attention to him.
“What do you want?” Liliana asked.
“Don’t be like that, Lilibet.”
Joe stiffened on the spot.
She hated that name.
Rich had called her that name, too.
Before Liliana could even respond, the man went on to say, “Rich misses you, that’s all. He knew I was going to be here tonight, and thought I could pass along a message.”
“Or did he send you, Trevor?” Liliana asked, venom coating her every word. “This isn’t exactly your scene, is it? You don’t have deep enough pockets to be on the guest list.”
“Ouch,” Trevor murmured, “shoot me right in the heart.”
“I might be more polite, except I’m not stupid. I know why you came.”
“He’d like to see you.”
“Nope,” Liliana said.
Joe didn’t miss the clenching of her jaw when she said that, or the way she swallowed hard, too. All signs of fear, even through her anger.
“You could—at the very least—see him for dinner, or something,” Trevor offered.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Liliana picked up the skirt of her dress, and turned to walk away from the man. “The least I could have done for him, Trevor, I did. It’s Rich who can’t say the same for me. Considering what he did—”
Before Liliana could even walk away, Trevor grabbed her by the back of her arm. A hard enough grip that even from ten feet away, Joe could plainly see the way the man’s fingers dug into her arm hard enough to redden her skin.
Joe’s anger burned hotter.
His rage spilled over.
For a second, he forgot what his purpose was being here at this event. He forgot that he wasn’t supposed to be noticed, or draw attention to himself.
He forgot … because the man put his hands on Liliana. Trevor touched her, and Joe blew his fucking top.
It certainly didn’t help to soothe Joe’s rage when Trevor yanked Liliana back, and caused her to stumble over her dress. It was her quiet cry of surprise that sent Joe ramming forward through the crowd.
It was amazing to him how easily—considering his size—that he could blend into a crowd. And then just as fast, how his size could fucking part it, too.
Liliana saw Joe coming first.
Widened eyes.
Confusion.
Concern.
All that stared back at him, but he wasn’t really paying attention. His gaze was laser focused on the foolish fucker with his fingers still wrapped too tightly around Liliana’s arm. He had exactly one-point-two seconds to let her go before Joe made him do it.
Trevor saw Joe, then, too. He didn’t recognize him if the expression on his face was any indication. Joe was going to consider that a win for the whole staying-under-the-radar thing.
That one-point-two seconds was up.
Joe’s fist reared back, and then slammed into the man’s face. All at once, several things happened. Trevor bled from the busted mouth he now sported—he’d be lucky if Joe hadn’t broken out his front teeth from the force of the punch—and Liliana fell from the man’s hold as he dropped to the ground to clutch his broken face.
“Fucking stay down there like the dog you are,” Joe spat at the man.
“Joe?”
He was still considering hitting the man again. All it took was looking at the idiot on the ground, and Joe’s rage swelled all over again.
“Joe,” Liliana said, forcefully the second time.
Joe’s attention went back to her, and everyone else.
Shit.
He’d drawn attention. Gazes were on them. Large men in three-piece black suits with comms in their ears were coming his way.
So, maybe he didn’t think this through.
“Why are you here?” Liliana asked.
Joe gave her a look, and then scanned the crowd.
He didn’t have an answer.
Not a good one.
“Are you following me?” she demanded.
Joe’s gaze darted back to hers. “You won’t like the answer to that one, Liliana.”
Disbelief, and disgust colored up her pretty features. He hated seeing that expression on her face, and hated even more that it was directed at him.
“What do you want, Joe?”
He pointed down at the man still on the floor. “What does he want, Liliana?”
Joe didn’t get the chance to pull an answer out of her. Lucian slipped through the semi-circle of the gathering crowd, and his gaze met Joe’s.
“Get out the back, and don’t be photographed,” Lucian demanded. “Be at the mansion—this will be handled.”
Joe knew better than to argue.
Liliana still looked like she hated him.
Great.
Liliana didn’t even see Joe standing beside the window when she was directed into the sitting room of the Marcello mansion. He kept his back to the wall, and his gaze on her as she moved to one of the plush leather couches, and fell into it.
“Are you still pissed at me?” he asked.
Liliana jumped, and her eyes widened when she found where he was standing. “Do you just … always do that?”
Joe’s brow furrowed. “Do what?”
“Hide like that. Sneak up on people. Scare the hell out of them, Joe.”
Joe didn’t get the chance to answer, as Lucian strolled into the room and spoke for him. No one followed behind the man.
“That’s kind of the point of Joe,” Lucian said to his daughter. “He’s called the Shadow for a reason—people aren’t typically meant to see him.”
Confusion lit up Liliana’s features as she glanced between her father, and Joe. And then, as though it all came onto her at once, and understanding dawned in her eyes. She settled on looking at Joe when she spoke, and not her father.
“You’re working for him,” she said. “That’s what you meant when you said I wouldn’t like your answer about if you were following me or not.”
Joe swallowed thickly. “Does it really matter?”
He could tell she was hurt. For what reason, he didn’t quite know yet. It didn’t really matter, either. Her hurt was enough to pain him, too.
“It matters,” Liliana said. “Is that what it is, Daddy? He’s working for you, or Uncle Dante?”
Lucian sighed. “Joe has been hired to … look after you, we’ll say. We didn’t want him letting you know that was the job. You have a lot on your plate, and I didn’t want to worry you with anything that wasn’t important details.”
“Important details?”
