"Excellent. Enjoy your evening." He got into my Toyota as I walked toward the house. A couple of deep breaths later, I was walking toward the sound of my family, laughing over something in the kitchen.
"And then Denise told them to try again. She could still hear the cow mooing." My brother laughed loudly, and everyone standing around him did as well. His bombshell blond wife was tucked against his side, her smile as fake as her breasts.
My father turned toward me and smiled. "There's my little girl. How are you?"
Everyone said their hellos, and I walked around and gave out hugs, hating every second of it. Denise squeezed me before moving back and gripping my shoulders.
"Darek tells me that you work down at De Luca. I love that place." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
I still wanted to know where my brother found someone like her. She was plastic. Fake. Cold. A complete lie.
"Yeah, but keep it to yourself. I'm happy living my little undercover life." I pulled back from her hold and moved over to pour myself a glass of wine.
My brother snorted and went into another story, this one about me being independent and failing at it during my freshman year. My twin sister stood to Darek's left, wrapped around a thin Asian guy I'd never met. My father and a few of his friends were in the circle, but my mother wasn't.
"Where's Mom?" I turned toward Kayla. She looked enough like me that it was obvious that we were sisters, but no one would ever guess twins.
"No clue. Go find her." She smiled. "You like finding things. Strays, adventure, yourself."
"You have something in your teeth. Big and green." I pointed to my mouth and smirked. Bitch.
The house was quiet as I walked through the long hallway that led toward my father's office. The bottles of brandy he kept hidden in his cabinet were calling me. It was the only thing strong enough that I wouldn't get sick on. I needed something to help me make it through the night.
I poured myself a quick glass and walked over to the small circular table in the middle of the room. Pictures were spread out of the Bertinelli family. I picked up an 8x10 of Erik, the best hitman in all of the United States. The son of the great Lucian Bertinelli. The family was one of the last remaining syndicates of old.
"How are you still roaming the streets?" I smiled and let my eyes move across Erik. He was beautiful, evil, delicious. Dark hair and eyes that said he would fuck you up without blinking twice stared back at me. "Too dangerous."
I liked the idea of getting involved with a bad boy, but Erik was a bit much. He seemed like the kind of guy that would fuck you and gut you in the same evening if he felt up to it. Nate looked the part, but something told me he wasn't at all the evil bastard some of my fantasies had forged him to be.
"Jenna?"
I turned at the sound of my father's voice and lifted my glass. "Just giving a toast to the Bertinelli family."
He chuckled and walked in to wrap me in a warm hug from behind. "And why would you do that? That young man right there is the reason I have so many gray hairs."
"No, Mom is the reason you have gray hair. Erik and his family are the reason you have food in the cabinets and a big house in the hills." I leaned against him, grateful that one member of my family felt real, true, right.
"This is true." He kissed the top of my head. "Promise me that you'll never get involved with an asshole like him? Find you a good man who makes his living being a good and decent citizen."
I pulled away from him and turned, smiling. "Can he look like a bad boy?"
My father rolled his eyes. "No, and you know why."
"Because most who look the part-"
"Are the part." He reached out and pinched my chin softly. "My little girl deserves the best in life."
"Define best." I smirked. It was our favorite discussion since I was a teenager. Best was relative, as was love, looks, and riches.
In my world, it was all a lie. In my father’s, it was the truth.
5
Nate
Two Days Later
"There you go. Arch your back." I rubbed my palm down the center of the sexy broad bent over in my bed for me. I couldn't remember her name to save my life, but it was irrelevant. She was Jenna to me.
Thick brown hair and curvy hips were all I needed. I gripped a handful of her hair as I pressed my dick deep inside her tight little slit and bumped her ass with my hips. It jiggled good.
She arched and whimpered loudly as I started to fuck her a little harder. "Too much, Nate. It's too much."
"No, it's just enough." I reached around and grabbed her tit, massaging her nipple as I molded my body around hers and used short thrusts to bring her over the edge. I wanted to whisper Jenna's name, to flip the poor girl over and see the woman I needed her to be, not the one she was.
What the fuck was it about the innocent little barista that had my cock hard, my nuts tight, and my aggression on high alert for the opportunity to bust the fuck out?
"I’m gonna come," the girl whispered and pressed her chest to the bed.
I moved back up and released her hair only to take two big handfuls of ass. "Good. I'll join you. I gotta get moving anyway."
She cried out as her pussy clenched around my shaft, sending me into a frenzy. I pumped myself in and out of her, the delicious wet sound of her body sucking on mine was enough to leave me shaking, but my imagination had far more planned for me.
Jenna. Soft and sweet. Falsely presenting innocence. Her eyes closed and mouth open as I spread her wide and licked every sweet fold between her taut thighs. Would she come for me? Wet my tongue or fill my mouth?
I groaned as electricity burst across my stomach, making me weak.
The girl below me dropped to the bed in the middle of my orgasm, leaving me hanging above her, my cock in need of attention.
"Not a chance, darling." I gripped her hips and pulled her ass back in the air before driving into her pussy again. It took a few minutes longer than usual, but it had been awhile.
She was agitated by the time I let her go, which made it that much easier to pull the covers over my head and tell her to get the fuck out.
"You don't even want my number?"
"Unless it's sixty-nine, no. I don't." I pulled my pillow over my head and chuckled as she bitched on her way out.
Women. They all wanted a bad boy only in hopes of turning him into a Boy Scout. But Boy Scouts don't fuck like the devil. And that's what they were really after. At least all the women I knew.
Except Jenna.
"What was her name?" Mikey glanced over at me as we jogged through the slums in New York. He was breathing like a fucking freight train out of control, but what else was new?
"No clue." I ran my fingers through my dark hair and scanned the street in front of us. Reaching out, I grabbed the front of his sweater and pulled him toward the crosswalk. "Let's go. We can make it."
"What do you mean, you don't know her name? What do you call her while you're fucking her?"
"Girl?" I glanced over at him and pulled hard on his shirt again. "Faster. Stop gimping around."
We made it to the other side of the street as a gang of motorcyclists flew by us. I flipped them off and turned to the right.
"Girl? Women actually let you get away with that shit?"
"You've seen the size of my dick, Mikey. There aren't too many holes I won't stick it in."
"They have more than one?" His eyes widened.
"You need to get out more. Fuck." I released him and picked up my slow jog to something that would eventually create a sweat. "The girl last night was good, but I kept thinking about Jenna, which made her fucking great."
"Jenna? The coffee girl?"
"Yeah." I glanced over at him, worried for a minute that maybe I should slow down. He was my only friend in the world and the only one that might actually come looking for me if Ashley finally had enough of my shit and off'd me.
"Why in the fuck haven't you asked her out?" He reached for my arm. "Slow down.
Shit. I'm not in shape like you, man."
I slowed a little, but not much. The fucker was going to die of a heart attack if someone didn't push him a little more. I planned on being that someone.
"Ask her out?" I gave him an odd look. "Why the hell would I ask her out? What in the world would I have to offer a girl like that?"
"Dinner and a movie." He wiped his hand over his brow. "Why does this have to be so complicated? Just cause you're a sick bastard that kills people for money doesn't mean you can't take a girl out for a bucket of popcorn and a finger job in the theater."
"What do you know about a finger job?" I snorted and popped him in the chest.
"Not nearly enough. I'll tell you that much." He smiled and nodded down the street. "Can we walk the rest of this shit? Please?"
"We'll walk for a few minutes so you can catch your breath." I lifted my hands toward the clear blue sky as the breeze picked up. "You need to get in shape. You'd be a good-looking guy if you'd lose that fucking belly."
"Hey," he rubbed his belly, "girls like this thing. It's security."
"How so?" I popped him hard in it and enjoyed the sound of him grunting.
"It means I'm wealthy enough to have an abundance of food. I'm portly, so I'm stable."
"You're gross. Get yourself together and find a hot woman to show her all the holes she has to play with."
"You're gross." He turned his nose up at me.
"What's the deal with the 9th Ward? I heard something about some shit going on down there on the news before I left the house today." I ignored his comment. I wasn't gross and he knew it. We were cut from the same cloth where women were concerned. Give me a pretty girl with big tits that didn't mind me exploring every inch of her and pressing my fingers, tongue, and cock into the places that would give a little.
"From what I understand, three guys got their asses handed to them. Two of them lost their tongues, the other his cock."
I shivered and glanced over at Mikey. "Who the fuck cuts another man's cock off?"
"You assume it was a dude that did it."
"And you're assuming it was a woman?" I smirked. "No fucking way."
"No? I think Ashley would be capable of that shit."
"True dat." I pointed toward the street light in front of us. "Let's jog from that light to the next turn and we'll walk the rest of the way home."
"Fine. Shit." He tugged at his t-shirt. "I'm pretty sure it was the Bertinellis that did that crap to those guys. No one else would be that nasty about it."
"Wouldn't surprise me much." I picked up my walk to a jog as my thoughts moved back to high school when Erik and I were friends. He'd had a hard-ass life, and there was no out for him. No matter what he wanted to do for the rest of his days, he was stuck. Once a Bertinelli, always one. The mafia didn't play games, and his father, Lucian, didn't seem the kind of guy to give anyone a free pass in life.
Erik would forever be a hired hitman and the vilest of his kind.
"You still talk to him?" Mikey's voice softened as if he knew my thoughts.
"No. Not really. We've run into each other over the years, but not in the last five or so." I shrugged. "Race you to the house."
"Fuck you. You know that I can't-"
I didn't hear the rest of his whining. I pumped my arms and legs instead, making it to the front of the apartment and pausing to catch my breath. The world seemed brighter with adrenaline pumping through me.
Maybe I should ask Jenna out. Maybe Mikey's right. A movie wouldn't kill anyone unless Ashley caught us out together. That could be dangerous. But like everything, she was manageable.
"Why do you do that?" Mikey jogged toward me, stopping beside me and pressing his hands to his knees as he gulped at the air.
"What? Run? It's good for the heart. Gets your blood pumping! Helps with erections and shit." I gripped the back of my head and glanced up at the sky.
"Fuck you too."
"Not my type, fruit fly." I glanced over at him and winked. My phone rang and I pulled it from my pocket, checking to see who it was before answering it. "Ashley. What's up, girl?"
Mikey rolled his eyes and half-limped past me.
"Everything is set up for Friday. I'm ready for this to be over. You're still free, right?"
It took me a minute to realize what she was talking about. The hit.
"Yeah, of course, I'm free. How are we doing this?"
"We'll talk about it in person. I'll see you soon." She hung up, leaving me standing there with the phone still pressed to my ear like an idiot. She did that shit for a power trip. Seemed like fucking her violently wasn't helping with her alpha attitude much. I'd have to break her in another way if she didn't step off my dick soon.
"What's up? I hate that look." Mikey held the door to the main hallway open for me.
"What look?" I walked in and glanced back at him, narrowing my eyes and growling low in my throat.
"Oh, sure, just scare the little guy. I see how it is. I have your back for twenty-six years and this is how you repay me."
I flipped him off and jogged up the stairs. "I repay you by letting you hang out with me. It's a benefit most people don't get."
"How does hanging out with you benefit me?"
I snorted and opened the door to the apartment. "How does it not help you?"
"Whatever, man. Where are you headed after this?"
"Coffee shop. I gotta see my girl."
"She working today?"
I loved that Mikey already knew who I was talking about and wasn't willing to front me anymore on Jenna actually being mine. We both knew it was just a matter of time.
Now it was time to let the pretty girl in on the secret.
She already belonged to me. Lucky little thing.
6
Jenna
The sound of my pen tapping on the table in front of me was soothing, but only to me. Someone cleared their throat loudly to my left, and I glanced over and gave an apologetic look.
"Sorry." I sat back in my chair and let my eyes scan the expanse of the library, looking for Grace. She'd come over when I first got there, but with Nelly breathing down her throat, I wasn't sure I'd get the chance to see her again.
"Good thing you're here to study," I whispered to myself and leaned back over my physics book. It only took a few seconds of staring at the numbers and shapes for my mind to disappear to the place it always did... in a dark bedroom. With Nate.
For someone who'd never had great sex, I sure knew how to conjure it up in my mind in a split second. His strong hands greedily pulling at my hips, his soft lips racing across my skin, his huge, thick-
"Jenna. There he is."
I yelped as Grace's hot breath hit the back of my neck. "Dammit."
"Shhhh!" An older woman got up and gathered her things. "This is a library for Pete's sake."
"Sorry." I blushed and covered my face with my hands. "I hate you, by the way."
"No, you don't." Grace pulled out the chair beside me and sat down before picking up my physics book and pulling it up to hide behind. "He's here."
"I heard you the first time." I scanned the tables in front of me, looking for who he could possibly be.
"Oh my God. He's so damn hot." Grace closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. "This book is too heavy to hold up."
I reached over and snatched it from her. "Why are you hiding, and who am I looking for?"
She tugged on the book, winning the battle and almost falling over backward out of her chair as I let the damn thing go.
"I don't know his name." She huffed and pulled the thick book down a little. "He's right over there. Dark blue t-shirt, gray beanie, five-o'clock shadow. He's so damn hot. I swear every time I see him, I feel like my heart is going to burst from my chest."
"Wait. You're in love with someone?" I continued to scan the room. "Why wasn't I informed of this?"
"Not in love. At least I don't think it's love. Feels like lust." She fanned herself until the book started to fall towar
d her face.
I reached out and grabbed it. "I don't see him."
"Stand up and look." She glanced down at her hands, far more nervous than I'd ever seen Grace before.
I stood and glanced around, my eyes landing on a face that was a little too familiar. A smile lifted my lips as I turned my attention back to my best friend.
"Please tell me you're not talking about Erik Bertinelli."
"Is that his name?" She fanned herself faster. "He makes every part of me ache."
"Too much information, though I know the feeling myself." I leaned forward, grateful that the handsome hitman had his face in a book. "What the fuck is he doing in here?"
"He's here all the time. He reads in a corner at the top of the stairs usually, but Nelly made him stay down here because he's got a reference book today." She turned and lifted up out of her seat a little. "I want him to take me to his apartment and make me forget my pathetic ass life. You think he would?"
"What? No." I sat back down.
"It's the dress, isn't it?" She glanced down at her pretty white and navy blue dress and shook her head. "I just love this style. I don't know why."
"No, it's not the dress. He's," I leaned close and pressed my face against her hair so I could whisper into her ear, "a hitman for the mafia. No one knows that, and you don't either. I don't want to see you in some dark alley with your throat cut."
"He is not." She jerked back, her eyes wide.
"I'm telling you that he is. My father is the DA of New York City, Grace. He's bad news." I glanced back over at him, taking in his profile and understanding completely why Grace would be head over heels for the man. He was beyond fine. "There were pictures of him all over my father's desk when I went for dinner on Monday night."
"Really?" Her voice lowered. "Can you get me one of them? I just want one."
"You don't need my help with that. Go get the latest paper. I'm sure he's in it. The Post is always running an ad on the Bertinellis. It's gotta be part of the scheme they have going."
"All right, look, I don't want to get wrapped up in anything deadly. I just want an afternoon of worshiping his body. You think I could get him to take me home and I live to tell about it?"
Captain Hotness: A Single Father Bad Boy Novel Page 62
