John + Siena: The Complete Duet

by Bethany-Kris

  No matter how many times John tried to shake the comments, or forget the man who really couldn’t do anything to him or Andino as long as everything went right, the thoughts wouldn’t leave.

  It wasn’t even so much the detective as just everything about this whole situation in general. Andino didn’t know, but John had been working to get his cousin out. He didn’t stop—from morning until night. He was sleeping maybe three hours a night, and running all goddamn day, too.

  He didn’t feel it, though.

  Not exhaustion, anyway.

  It was everything else that he felt too much of lately. It was everything else that kept his attention obsessive, and unwilling to let him go. He had been taken out of the deep swell of depression, and thrown into the hyper-focused, fixated state he was now.

  That probably should have been a sign.

  John’s gaze zoned in on the clock as voices echoed around him. Leaning back in the kitchen chair, Siena moved around the arguing men like their raised voices and irritation didn’t bother her in the least.

  She dropped a kiss to the top of John’s head as she passed his chair at the head of the table. It was the only thing to break his focus away from the clock, and the countdown he had begun silently in his head.

  “Coffee?” she asked him.

  John shook his head once. “No, thanks.”

  “Cake?”

  He smiled, because fuck, here she was in his house, and making cake. It was everything he wanted and so much more, but at the same time, he wished that was all they were doing together at the moment.

  Instead, they could not focus on the fact they were actually together. That she was with him—had been with him, and waking up in his bed every morning for over a week. No, they had to let other things take center stage in their life at the moment, and deal with it first.

  They came second.

  “Not right now,” he said to her offer of cake.

  Siena nodded, and patted his cheek before heading off to the island again. John’s attention went back to the clock while the men around him raged on. His family—uncles, and his father.

  “Has someone updated Haven today?” Giovanni asked.

  John held up a single finger. “She yelled a lot.”

  Lucian frowned at his son. “I’m sure she’s having a difficult time.”

  “Didn’t say I blamed her.”

  “What about that goddamn deal Andino put in with the District Attorney?” Dante asked. “Arthur, or whatever the fuck his name is. Why hasn’t something come of that yet? The boss of the Marcello family cannot remain in lockup for very long. It’s dangerous.”

  Gazes drifted to John, but he was still staring at the clock. He felt them looking at him, though, and waiting for a response. He didn’t have very goddamn much to give them right now. He knew as much as they did, honestly.

  “We’re quite aware of how fucking dangerous is it for him to be in there,” Lucian snapped back.

  John did look away from the clock at that statement. It was very unlike his father to be sharp in his words or tone, but especially to his brothers. Lucian Marcello had long since perfected the art of cold words, and a detached delivery. Even when it came to family. It was how he managed to distance himself from an argument with people he cared about.

  “I’m just saying—”

  “I know what you’re not saying, too, Dante,” Lucian muttered. “I don’t think we have to worry about someone putting a hit on Andino while he’s in lockup. That’s not the kind of issue we have been having lately. John has a bribe in with two of the guards as well, so he’s being fucking watched as much as we can watch him.”

  “Scum has a way of surfacing when they think they have a chance to be overlooked, Lucian,” Dante replied.

  Lucian opened his mouth to respond, but John stepped in to save his father the trouble. He knew his father was speaking for John, in a way. He rarely ever did that, but John’s distraction at this meeting was not going unnoticed, either. He couldn’t exactly help it at the moment.

  Talking would do nothing.

  Talking had done nothing.

  John needed to do something.

  “I will figure it out,” John said simply.

  Dante looked at John, and so did Giovanni. John’s father, on the other hand, only leaned back in his chair like he knew the discussion was just about over with entirely. Lucian was smart that way—he could recognize when John had found his limit of politeness for the day. John had found his limit.

  “And just how—”

  “I will let you know,” John said, standing from his chair. “I shouldn’t have to make this clear, but this was a plan Andino put into motion. It was his choice to make, and he knew the risks. It was a plan he brought me in on for obvious reasons.”

  John’s gaze drifted to where Siena was wiping down the island counter. She kept her gaze on her work, but he had no doubt she was listening to him. The woman was smart like that, and he appreciated it.

  “So that means it’s our issue to clean at the end of the day,” John continued, giving Dante and Giovanni a look. “Let us do that without stepping in where you’re only stepping on my fucking toes.”

  “John—”

  He held a single hand up, and then just walked away from the table and conversation altogether. He left his father, and his uncles behind.

  John had said his peace.

  He gave his order.

  He meant it.

  “Where is he going?” Giovanni demanded.

  “We’re not done talking, John,” Dante called.

  “Actually,” Lucian said, “he is done, and he can be done whenever he wants to be, brothers. Benefit of being the boss—a benefit you used all the damn time, Dante. A boss is a boss is a boss, even if he is the boss of another family. He said what he said. It’s done. Let it be done.”

  “John?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for the fucking cake, Siena.”

  “What?” she asked.

  Her sleepy confusion might have been cute any other time if John wasn’t so goddamn fixated on finding the cake she had mentioned the night before. He felt her come closer as he peered into the fridge again, and moved things around.

  There wasn’t even that much in there. It wasn’t like the fucking cake had got out, and walked away or some nonsense.

  “Did you put it in the cupboard or something?” he asked.

  Because it wasn’t on the counter in a dish, either.

  Standing, he shut the fridge door, and turned to face Siena. She had leaned one hip against the kitchen island like it was going to keep her standing. Her droopy eyelids spoke to how tired she was.

  “You want cake?” she asked.

  John shrugged. “Yeah, the chocolate cake. You had it out yesterday when everybody was here. Where is it?”

  He had pretty much gone through his office, and then the living room on a cleaning spree. Everything was meticulously shiny again. There was no dust to be found, but he only felt marginally better, really.

  “You want the cake,” Siena said again.

  John just stared at her. “That’s what I said.”

  “Holy shit, John, it’s …” Siena looked at the clock on the wall, blinked twice, and then looked at the watch on her wrist. “It’s three in the morning.”

  “Is it?”

  What did that matter?

  “I still want the cake,” he told her.

  Siena shook her head, and rubbed her hand against her eyes. Finally looking a little bit more awake than before, she took another look at him, too. “When did you go to bed, John?”

  Well …

  “I didn’t.”

  “Why does the living room smell like bleach?”

  “I cleaned.”

  Siena smacked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and nodded. “You didn’t sleep last night, either. I saw the shelves on the way down the stairs, too. You moved everything around again.�
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  “I didn’t like the way it was.”

  “Yeah, I bet.” Siena tightened the belt on her thigh-high, white silk robe, accentuating her tiny waist a bit more. “You just, what, suddenly wanted cake?”

  “Listen, I’ll just go drive around until I find fucking cake, Siena.”

  “It wasn’t a big cake, John. They finished it off. I’ll make you one tomorrow.”

  No, he kind of wanted one now. And when he fixated on something—like cake at the moment—he was willing to do just about whatever he had to in order to get it. It was not as simple as a promise of eventually getting what he wanted.

  “That’s not going to work,” John said.

  Her blue eyes showed no surprise, and little concern at that point. “Do I have to take your keys from you?”

  “Why would you—”

  Siena started ticking things off her fingers in that calm, sweet way of hers that always lulled John into a sense of comfort. “You’re not sleeping. You’re fixating on different things. Your energy is through the roof. If and when you sleep, it’s maybe an hour at a time. You’re watching clocks like time is the only thing tangible to understand at the moment. You’re distracted at every turn unless it’s something you’re obsessing over. You’re not quite nasty—yet—but your moods are flipping up and down depending on who’s around at any given time.”

  John cleared his throat, not bothering to deny anything Siena just said. None of it was a lie, and he knew it. “It’ll settle.”

  “Likely not at the moment,” Siena countered. “Leonard has had you off your stabilizers for the antidepressants for what, a couple of weeks or more?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I think you need to get him to switch them back over now, John.”

  John’s ability to rationalize emotions and his situation at any given time was often hindered by his current phase of bipolar. The more hypomanic he became, the less concerned he was over his behavior and actions. He gave it all very little thought because that was just how his disorder worked. Right and wrong became whatever he could get away with a lot of the time.

  All over again, he was reminded of how difficult it was to live his life, be a made man in the utmost control of himself, and manage his disorder.

  “It’s all right,” Siena said like she could read his mind. Her hand came up to stroke his jaw, and she pulled him close until the two of them were just a breath apart. Damn, he loved his woman. “We can call Leonard in the morning, and get the meds switched back around.”

  “Always have my back, huh?”

  Siena flashed him a smile. “You know it.”

  “People know now—about me, I mean,” he said.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “But they can’t know this shit, too. They can’t know these things, too.”

  “They won’t.”

  Her words felt like a promise.

  She didn’t break promises, he knew.

  “It’ll always be just you and me for this,” Siena told him. “We’ll handle it. It’s your life—your business. Those doors are shut, John.”

  “Where did you come from, bella donna? You seem a little too good to be true when it comes to us.”

  Siena laughed. “I came from Brooklyn. And you know damn well I was made for you, John.”

  He gave her a quick kiss and said, “Damn right.”

  “Are you still thinking about the cake?”

  John grimaced because, yeah, he kind of was. He really wanted some of that, and it wasn’t just going to go away because he knew he was being irrational. “I can’t—”

  “Help it, yeah. I know. How about I distract you instead?”

  Her tone dripped with sex.

  It couldn’t be missed.

  John grinned. “I’ll give you a head start.”

  Siena cocked a brow. “A head start?”

  “Mmm, make it to the bed, and I’ll bend you over. Let me catch you, and you’ll suck me off and get fucked right then and there.”

  Her eyes widened, and glinted with lust. “That sounds like a win-win for me.”

  “Me, too. You get three seconds. Go.”

  John’s attention switched from chocolate cake to sex just like that. All it took was Siena darting away from him with a sexy, teasing wink thrown back over her shoulder. Her robe flicked outward as she spun around the island, and gave him the briefest peek at the swell of her bare ass.

  Damn.

  “You’re not wearing panties?” he called after her.

  “Nope.”

  Sweet and sexy all at once.

  John groaned. “That’s unfair. Had I known that, I wouldn’t have given you a head start, Siena.”

  “Too late!”

  Her voice echoed to him from outside the kitchen.

  “Fucking tease.”

  Then, Siena’s head popped back in the entryway of the kitchen. “Better make it worth my while, John.”

  Just as fast, she was gone again.

  “Yep, time’s up, babe.”

  Only her laughter answered him back.

  John discarded clothing as he headed after Siena. He didn’t really have that much on, anyway. A cotton shirt, and sleep pants. Like her, he hadn’t pulled anything on underneath his nighttime clothes. His shirt hit the kitchen floor, and by the time he got to the staircase and could see Siena just reaching the top, he had shoved his sleep pants down, too.

  Siena left her robe hanging off the bannister. He caught sight of her bare tits as she turned at the top of the stairs, and then quickly disappeared. But not before she graced him with a sensual smile that promised all kinds of sin.

  Jesus.

  “You’re going to kill me, donna.”

  “I love you too much for that.”

  John rounded the top of the stairs only to be tackled from the side by Siena. Her unexpected attack came out of nowhere. He expected her to be down the hall in the bedroom, but apparently, that was not her plan.

  He lost his footing, but somehow managed to keep ahold of both of them as they tumbled to the floor. His dark laughter lit up the hallway, but it quickly turned into a low groan when Siena’s lips found his throat.

  Her kisses trailed lower over his chest, and down to his stomach. Her fingernails dragged soft lines down his skin, making his nerves come alive, and his skin heat under her touch.

  She barely had to do anything at all to drive him crazy. A simple touch. A quick kiss. A lingering look. One of her softly whispered words.

  Sex was one thing.

  Sex with Siena was something else entirely for John.

  “Jesus Christ,” he grunted when her hand snaked around his cock. A firm grip answered his harsh words, and then she stroked him as she leaned back up over his body at the same time. Her lips hovered over his, and her blue eyes locked with his gaze. “I think you like this, babe.”

  “Hmm, what?”

  “Getting the upper hand on me.”

  “It doesn’t happen very often.”

  “Do me a favor, huh?”

  “What’s that?” Siena asked.

  “Get your mouth on my dick before I fucking explode.”

  Siena flashed him a smile, and without another word, she moved lower again. His fingers tangled into her hair as her mouth hovered over the head of his dick. Her tongue snaked out to strike against the tip, and taste him.

  “Fucking tease,” he told her again.

  “Barely.”

  That was all she said before John lost his ability to breathe or speak. She took his cock in from the tip all the way to the base. He felt her throat muscles contract from how deep he was in her mouth, and then her lips closed around him.

  Silken lips.

  A rough tongue.

  Hot wetness.

  Christ.

  “Love your fucking mouth,” he mumbled.

  John swore he saw Siena try to grin around his cock. He lost sight of her eyes as she dipped her head back down and swallowed his cock again. He loved t
he feeling of her mouth tight around his dick, and the way her tongue stroked his shaft as she pulled him out of her mouth once more.

  Still, he needed to see her.

  “Look at me, Siena.”

  Instantly, her eyes were back on him.

  Blazing blue.

  Raging lust.

  Brimming love.

  John tugged on Siena’s hair with one hand, and grabbed her arm with his other. Yanking her up, he pulled her into his kiss with bruising force. She straddled his waist, and let her fingernails rake over his pecs hard enough to leave stinging red streaks behind. Her wet cunt grinded against his erection in the best fucking way possible.

  “Get on me, girl,” he growled against her lips. “Stop this fucking teasing, Siena.”

  She didn’t need to be told again. Her hips shifted just the right way, and he positioned his cock where he wanted to be the very most. She fell down on his length with a sigh that melted into a satisfied moan.

  “You like that?” he asked. “The way I fill you up, babe?”

  “So much, John.”

  She rocked her hips, and fit her body even tighter against his. Every little flex of her inner muscles hugged him tight. He could feel her honey coating his shaft—he bet he could get her even wetter before they were done, though.

  “You gonna ride me?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You gonna fuck me, my pretty girl?”

  “All night, if you want me to.”

  John grinned. “You better.”

  Her pace was frantic when she started riding him—a fast, hard rhythm that drove him insane. She tossed her head back, and her hair fell in a wavy, wild curtain over her tits. His hands cupped her breasts, and his thumbs tweaked at her hardened nipples.

  “Come for me, Siena, and let me taste that cunt of yours.”

  “Fuck.”

  He loved that.

  Loved how she swore when she fucked him, and how good she sounded doing it. Not to mention, the way she looked.

  Good God.

  Siena’s eyes flew wide, and found his. Her body tensed, and the broken cry that resounded matched the way her cunt squeezed him tight. He pulled her off his cock, and grabbed onto her ass to pull her higher.