The Complete Irreparable Boxed Set: Irreparable #1-2

by Sam Mariano

  She fell back against the couch, limp, spent, trying to catch her breath.

  He offered a smug little smile as he joined her on the couch.

  Not begrudging him his male pride, she gave him a sleepy smile back. "Wow."

  Before she had time to feel ripped off that she wouldn’t get to feel him inside of her, his magical hands were on her body again, guiding her onto her stomach. A little tendril of excitement coiled in her tummy as he began massaging her back and shoulders.

  Relaxation seeped all the way down into her bones.

  Unlike most men, who do the bare minimum, he spent a good ten minutes rubbing any remaining tension out of her body, periodically letting a hand slip away to explore even more pleasurable nooks.

  When he flipped her back over, she was so deeply pleasured that it was almost an out-of-body experience.

  "You didn’t think we were done here, did you?" he teased.

  "Oh, I was hoping we weren’t," she replied, somewhat dreamily.

  He smiled, reaching down to rub his own cock—or so she thought, until he grabbed her hand and led her to it.

  Eagerly wrapping her fingers around his length, she savored the look on his face as he closed his eyes, experiencing pleasure at her hands.

  After only a minute, he pulled her hand away, roughly pulled her closer, and without further delay, pushed his cock inside of her.

  "Oh, god, yes," she said, her eyes falling shut as she wrapped a leg around him.

  He pulled back, then pushed forward again, filling her to the hilt. A few slow movements as he got his bearings, then he picked up the pace until he was fucking her so hard the couch moved. She’d never felt so full in her life, and his cock hit all the right spots.

  Before long she was crying out nonsensically, begging him for what he was already giving her, but needing more, faster, harder.

  One hand found her breast and he squeezed, brushing his thumb across her nipple. "You're so fucking sexy right now, do you know that?" he asked—practically growled.

  "Oh god," she cried, body twisting, reaching impossibly for what only he could give her. "Please. Please."

  He slammed into her harder in response. She cried out, using her legs to pull him deeper. And then he tilted his hips. Her eyes went wide, unprepared for the friction, less prepared for the explosion of pleasure as a second orgasm rocked her. She cried out again, spasming around his cock. Her spasms triggered him and he exploded inside of her. She clung to his strong upper body as he rode out his own orgasm, then collapsed on top of her.

  Weakly pulling her against him, he dropped several tender kisses against her head. Then they lay there, tangled together, both thoroughly sated.

  "Damn," she drawled, her face pressed against his shoulder.

  “I’m never moving from this spot,” he murmured in agreement.

  “Well, in that case I’m glad this was so good, because it will be our last fuck before you die.”

  Heaving an exaggerated sigh, he said, “Fucking parents.”

  “We should’ve done this at your house. Poor planning.”

  “I was going for romantic. Also, I was pretty sure you wouldn’t respond to a booty call given the circumstances.”

  Shrugging noncommittally, she said, “No comment.”

  Ethan chuckled, burying his face against her skin. “I love you.”

  Willow sighed happily. “I love hearing you say that.”

  “Hey,” he said, as if offended.

  “And also I love you, obviously,” she added.

  A moment passed with him in her arms and Willow was so content, so consumed by sheer happiness that she felt like she might burst with it.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked him.

  “Debating whether or not it might be worth dying to stay here like this. I’m leaning toward yes.” He tilted his head to look up at her. “What are you thinking?”

  With an openness that somehow managed to surprise him, she smiled and said, “That you make me very happy.”

  A soft smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and he leaned up just far enough to brush a kiss across her lips.

  Then he resumed his position in her arms, and she lightly ran a hand up and down her back, basking in however many moments of bliss she had left before they had to return to reality.

  Willow jerked awake, eyes bleary, head foggy, and unsure exactly where she was. The wall of Ethan’s chest beneath her cheek felt foreign and her body already ached with protest from the unnatural position she’d been lying in.

  Another rap on the door, and she realized what had woken her.

  Her heart practically propelled out of her chest as she rose to a seated position, grabbing Ethan’s arm and shaking him.

  “Ethan, we fell asleep!”

  Her stomach churned and she launched off the couch, grabbing her shirt and pacing past it as she yanked it on.

  Then she stopped. Why would her mother knock? Maybe Lauren was impatient and Ashlynn hadn’t made it to the door yet. Maybe there was still time for Willow to sneak Ethan out the back door.

  “What the…?” Ethan trailed off, groggily scrubbing at his eyes.

  “Goddammit,” she hissed, heart racing as she took a step toward the door and then a step back. “The… the kitchen, maybe I can get you out the back door.”

  His senses seemed to sharpen as he realized what was happening and bent to grab his jeans off the ground. “Aw, shit. Willow, my car is out front. That’s not going to work.”

  “Shit!” She whirled around as he pulled pants on, eyes searching the room as if for an escape route.

  More resolved than she was, he said soberly, “We’re just going to have to deal with it. They’re going to find out eventually.”

  He didn’t understand, and his calm only enhanced her panic as horrifying scenarios flew through her head and tears burned behind her eyes.

  “They’re not going to let me…”

  Gaze softening, Ethan said, “Willow, you’re an adult; they can’t stop you.”

  “They can. They won’t pay for college, I can’t get financial aid because they make too much money—I’ve already looked into all this! I have to go to college.”

  Still calm, Ethan said, “You’re going to go to college.” Then, grasping her by the shoulders, he looked into her eyes. “Calm down. They’re not going to shoot me because that’s illegal; they will be mad, but they will get over it. They’re not going to kick you out or keep you from going to college, and if they try to, I won’t let them.”

  Rolling her eyes, still panicky, she said, “Yeah, because if they won’t listen to me, they’re sure to listen to you.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does. I can’t afford… I’ve already crunched all these numbers when they kept me from you before, I can’t…”

  Hooking a finger under her chin and tilting her gaze to meet his, he assured her, “You won’t have to. If it comes down to it, you’ll live with me, I’ll pay your tuition. No one controls you, Willow. They can get mad and they can hate me, but there’s nothing they can do to keep us apart now.”

  Torn between tenderness over him wanting to come to her rescue, and anxiety over the situation at hand, Willow stifled the urge to hug him.

  Another knock, that one louder, more aggressive.

  Willow frowned, unease creeping up her spine.

  That didn’t make sense. Why weren’t they letting themselves in? It was late, she could be asleep….

  Suddenly her chest tightened, several different scenarios, each more terrifying than the last, bounding through her mind.

  “Do you have your gun?” she asked, her voice low and shaky.

  Ethan’s eyes went wide, his gaze shooting to the door, then back at her. A moment behind her, she watched realization dawn on his face. “Your parents wouldn’t have to knock.”

  “Oh god,” she whispered, old fears creeping to the forefront of her mind.

  Pushing her behind him protectively,
he trained his eyes on the door and said quietly but firmly, “Go to the kitchen, use the landline, call the cops.”

  Her voice shook. “Ethan…”

  Suddenly a voice boomed from the other side, deep and male. “Open the goddamn door, Willow.”

  Ethan threw a glance back at her. “You recognize that voice?”

  Practically vibrating with nerves, she shook her head, but without confidence. “I… I’m not sure.”

  “Who is it?” Ethan called back.

  “All right.” That time the voice was quiet, as if speaking an afterthought, and before Ethan could react the door flew open.

  The man on the other side dropped something back into his left pocket. His right hand grasped a gun, which was quickly trained on Ethan’s face.

  Willow gasped, throwing her body in front of Ethan’s, trying to cover all his vital parts with flailing limbs. “Salvatore, no!”

  “If you’re armed, drop it,” the man stated, looking past Willow to Ethan.

  “If I’m armed, there’s a goddamned hole in your chest and Willow isn’t trying to protect me,” Ethan snapped back, gently pushing her out of his way.

  The intruder was tall and dark, lean but muscular—the kind of guy who’d be scrappy in a fight, but he didn’t have to fight, because he had a gun. He had short, jet black hair, a neatly maintained “scruffy” jaw line, and steely gray eyes. His complexion hinted at Italian heritage, and Willow knowing his name indicated he was from her side and not Delmonico’s.

  Running through the roster he’d studied a year earlier, he narrowed it down to the obvious conclusion—Salvatore Castellanos, Willow’s half-brother.

  He would’ve preferred her mothers. He was pretty sure they wouldn’t kill him. With Willow’s father, the odds were not similarly in his favor.

  Smirking, gun still in the air, Salvatore stated, “I did assume that waking you from your little love nest lessened the chances.” Then, with a mockingly sympathetic glance in Willow’s direction, he added, “He’s painfully vanilla, isn’t he?”

  Not in the mood, Willow glared. “Have you been spying on me? Are you Dad’s lapdog now?”

  That ruffled his feathers and her brother’s gray eyes narrowed accordingly. “Even if I was, seems you should be a little bit nicer to me, unless you like your boyfriend better dead than alive.” Casting a bored look at Ethan, he added, “Though, I guess I couldn’t blame you there.”

  There was a solemn look about him, a coldness that didn’t match the smug asshole’s demeanor. Ethan couldn’t get a clear read on him.

  Lowering the gun to his side, Salvatore’s posture relaxed and he tossed the tiniest of smiles in Willow’s direction. “Relax, I’m not here on Dad’s behalf.” Gesturing to the two of them with an index finger back and forth, he stated, “I don’t care about this. I’m not interested in who you’re fucking,” then, with a dry, unimpressed look at Ethan, he added, “As long it’s consensual this time.”

  “Jesus Christ, Sal,” Willow hissed, folding her arms across her chest.

  Shrugging unapologetically, he said, “Hey, I guess you found a way to make it work. Your kink’s not my business.”

  “I don’t have a kink,” she ground out, face flaming.

  Raising both dark brows, he said, “Whatever you have to tell yourself. Again, don’t care.”

  “Why are you here?” she demanded, ready to explode with agitation.

  A guarded, tentative look transformed his face—that suited the look of him more, but did nothing to put Ethan at ease. “I need to talk to both of you.”

  Willow’s eyebrows shot up, her surprise tentatively replacing her scowl. “Us? About what?”

  Instead of immediately answering, he held Willow’s gaze for a moment before looking to Ethan. “You were on the inside of that whole operation, yeah?”

  Tensing, Ethan gave a quick nod. “Not for real, but yeah, I was on the inside.”

  Salvatore rolled his eyes. “Obviously. Who brought you on? Who told you you’d be working on Delmonico’s crew?”

  By then Ethan’s scowl had come back. “Why?”

  “Answer the question,” the other man said, patience not being a virtue he came equipped with.

  “Tito Suarez, he let me know about the spot. I’d worked with him before, he owed me a favor. Why are you asking?”

  “Is this about my case?” Willow asked, frowning.

  Ethan answered before her brother could. “I’ve looked into that, it’s not…” He trailed off, unsure how to explain what he’d found in the least upsetting way. Several times he’d intended on saying something, but the timing never seemed right.

  “Your case fell apart,” Salvatore stated, less sensitive to her feelings.

  Her mouth dropped open. “That’s… not possible. There was evidence, there were witnesses…”

  Salvatore nodded once, his gaze moving around the room. “The guys they put away are all dead. Inside job.” He paused before looking at Willow and adding, “And it wasn’t us.”

  Willow stood there, blinking and shaking her head, mouth still agape. “I… I don’t understand.”

  Turning his attention to Ethan, the less emotional of the two, Salvatore said, “I don’t know what you know, so bear with me. We were very distinctly given the impression that Willow’s kidnapping was orchestrated by Delmonico’s crew, acting on orders that came from Morelli.”

  “Right,” Ethan said.

  “That was bullshit.”

  Ethan’s dark brows drew together in a scowl. “What do you mean, bullshit? How is that possible?”

  “You ever meet any of them when you were working for them? Delmonico, any known associates of Delmonico?”

  “Tito.”

  “Other than Tito,” he said with an impatient, dismissive hand gesture.

  “No,” Ethan said hesitantly. “But I was just a soldier, there’s no reason I would’ve—”

  “You weren’t working for Delmonico’s crew,” Salvatore interrupted. “Along with all the other guys there, you were made to believe you were, but you weren’t.”

  “Then who the hell was I working for?” Ethan demanded.

  “Tito.”

  Ethan couldn’t keep a short laugh from shooting out of him. “Tito? No. No way. Morelli’s got a trafficking operation, everyone knows it—”

  “He does,” Salvatore agreed. “But he didn’t take Willow. Morelli has a daughter, you think that’s a precedent he wants to set, kidnapping and abusing a made guy’s daughter?”

  Skeptical, Ethan demanded, “Exactly how do you know this? Last I checked, you weren’t a Morelli.”

  Not like his guards had been down to begin with, but Salvatore’s features closed off even more. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Who’s your source? Who says Morelli didn’t issue the order?”

  “Mateo Morelli,” Salvatore stated, his tone brooking no room for further instigation on the matter.

  “Senior or junior?”

  Salvatore rolled his eyes. “Mateo, not Matt. The son’s running everything now, old man’s just a figurehead. No order with these kinds of consequences is going to happen on his watch without his knowledge. Not to mention, Delmonico’s too smart to hire some asshole he doesn’t know,” he added, jerking his eyebrows up to indicate Ethan was said asshole, in case he missed it.

  He couldn’t very well argue that, though. Even when he’d gotten on the crew, he hadn’t been able to believe his luck—until it turned bad, and he realized it obviously hadn’t been luck.

  “Notice Tito was the one who brought you in, the one who told you who you were working for, and also the only one who got away?” Salvatore asked. “You think that was luck? He wanted you guys to get caught.”

  Ethan shook his head, the pieces not clicking together. “Why?”

  Sighing, running a hand across his chin, Salvatore said, “That’s… not completely clear. What is clear at this point is that whoever Tito is working for, they wanted a beef betwee
n us and the Morellis, a big one.”

  “I mean, you guys aren’t exactly friends, are you?”

  “Not exactly, but there’s no war between us, either. Someone wants there to be.”

  Thinking aloud more than talking to Salvatore, Ethan said, “Who would benefit from that?”

  Salvatore shrugged. “Someone who wants both of us weaker, maybe so they can take over? There’s been rumblings, people who’d like to see a new regime in power. Morelli’s too powerful to take on at this point, he has too much money, too much influence, and the right guys on his payroll; his guys almost never get caught.”

  “Joey Morelli got busted a few years back.”

  Salvatore rolled his eyes. “That was stupid shit, he’s out soon. Nothing like what could be, though. All that he’s into…” Salvatore trailed off, shaking his head.

  “Yeah, he’s a fucking sociopath,” Ethan agreed.

  Salvatore shrugged one shoulder, looking a little resigned. “It is what it is. He’s not as bad as his old man. He’s got his hands in a lot more legitimate business though, he’s getting too big to topple.”

  “Well…”

  “What?”

  “I mean, he’s not bulletproof,” Ethan reasoned.

  “Guy doesn’t trust his fucking shadow; no one’s putting a bullet in him anytime soon. Even if they did, they’d have to take out half his family or the retribution would be…” Salvatore shook his head, looking almost disgusted.

  The whole situation made Ethan uneasy.

  “Well, listen, we don’t want to get involved with this shit. I can’t get involved with this shit.”

  “I just need to know what you know about Tito. When did you last talk to him, where was he last? Anything that could help. Anything that may pop up now that you think about the time you spent there, either one of you.” Finally he glanced at Willow, but he seemed remotely uncomfortable.

  Willow swallowed, shaking her head. “I try not to think about any of that, but… honestly, my interaction with Tito was pretty minimal. My interaction with anyone but the other girls was pretty limited, and even the girls… they just cried and didn’t really move from the beds.”