Remi crossed his legs at the ankles. “Unusual for an enforcer. Usually they can’t contain the rage.”
Angelo hadn’t seemed angry. He’d just seemed…normal. Sure, on the dangerous side, dominant, but not in a threatening way. At least not toward me.
“A couple of scrapes in juvie, but that’s about it,” Eli was saying. “Not even a speeding ticket. Nothing until the investigation into his death.”
Remi leaned over to eye the screen. “An investigation that went nowhere.”
That didn’t surprise me. Ross could even have been the one to somehow block the investigation.
Eli clicked through the case file. I didn’t know how he’d gotten ahold of it, but nothing the brothers did really surprised me anymore. When Eli got to the autopsy report and photos, I hastily looked away.
Right into Remi’s eyes.
It hit me like a lightning bolt every time that happened. Our eyes would meet, and something electric would pass between us, something so strong it scared me. I’d felt it the first time he opened his eyes from the coma, and every time after until Levi had set me free. And I’d tried to forget. But with him right in front of me, with that electricity sizzling in the air between us…
Did it bother him to hear about Angelo? I’d certainly never imagined Remi with other women, but that wasn’t realistic, was it? This man was no longer an invalid, and there had to have been women.
And you have a child. If it hurts him, tough shit. We need this info to get Brooke back.
“No mention of mob activity, previous dealings with Fiori or the mob.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Eli click the file closed, and I turned to face the computer again. “It was assumed it was a random robbery gone wrong because of the state of the house. Cold case, unsolved.”
“They searched that night,” Remi said.
“Everywhere.” I stared down at my hands clasped on the desk, my white knuckles. “If something had been there, surely they’d have found it.”
“Did Angelo have a secret hiding place?”
I dug my nails into my palms, trying to contain the memories. “Not that I know of, but I wasn’t living there. We talked about it, but…” My throat closed up.
“What about outside of the house? Safety deposit box, favorite place to visit, anything like that?”
“I don’t know about a box. We walked to his cousin’s Italian restaurant every couple of days.” Angelo had loved food as much as I had back then, before caring for a child and lack of time had made me more cautious. “That was our only regular hangout.”
Remi grunted, the rasp of his thumb tracing his stubble a harsh complement. “Did he ever give you anything?”
“All the time.” Most of it had been left behind, but… “Angelo liked to give me things—food, clothes, books.”
“Any jewelry?” Eli asked.
I shuddered, the memories flooding over the dam I’d built to keep them back. “He…he gave me a ring that night. An engagement ring. But…they took it, before they…started…” A wave of my hand filled in what I couldn’t get my tongue to explain. “You know.”
I brought a hand to my lips, holding back words and emotion I had no desire to share.
“Eli”—Remi straightened—“give us a minute?”
I didn’t look up, didn’t want to see what Eli thought of me, of my past. And God, I didn’t want to see sympathy. Pity. I’d lost a lot, yes, but I had gotten through it. That was my focus, not—
A hand appeared in front of my eyes. “C’mere.”
The fingers were thick, strong. They looked like they could weather any storm, and probably could. But when this was over, there’d be no hand to grab hold of. I wouldn’t let there be.
But right now? I needed that hand. So I took it.
Chapter Eleven
Remi —
My basic philosophy in life, given my past, was shit happens. I deserved it. Leah didn’t.
Clients didn’t tell us why they wanted a hit; they just paid us. It was up to us to find out the why, to decide if it was a job worth taking. I had read some messed-up shit in my time, but it had never affected me the way Leah’s simple “you know” did.
The look in her eyes… Fuck.
“C’mere,” I said, needing to touch her, to feel her body against me and know in that moment that she was safe. Whole.
She stared at my hand for a long moment, and I braced myself for her rejection. Held my breath. The moment her fingers slipped into mine and she rose from her chair, I knew I didn’t deserve it.
I took it anyway.
Shifting my legs apart, I pulled her close until her belly met my groin and her breasts plumped against my chest. The sensation was almost indescribable—like coming home and getting hit with a jolt of electricity all at once. Leah’s head fit right in the hollow of my shoulder, and as she settled there, her deep sigh echoed my own.
Home.
She drew in a breath, pressing her breasts harder against me.
Electricity.
Fuck.
“I don’t need your sympathy, Remi,” she said, her voice not as certain as her words.
I ran my palms up her back, down along the dip of her spine. “Who said it was sympathy?”
“Okay then.” She shifted, her body molding even closer to mine. A groan caught in the back of my throat. “I don’t need to be cuddled.”
“Maybe I need it,” I said, not bothering to hide the hoarse tone creeping in. If we could have nothing else between us, there needed to be truth. I wanted her body, no doubt about it, but I’d give anything to take care of her. To love her.
She went rigid against me, the ease of her body against mine gone in a hot second. “Why would you need it?”
“Why do you think?”
Stepping back, Leah narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t about sex.”
Tell my dick that. If her body was against mine, there would always be an undercurrent of hunger beneath whatever else was going on between us; that was fact. “It isn’t all about sex.”
“No.” Panic filtered into her eyes as they landed everywhere but where I needed them to be—on me. “Absolutely not.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and simply looked at her. We both knew the truth, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
Both fists tightened at her sides. “So I tell you about the worst night of my life and you want to fuck, is that it?”
The words hit their mark, deadlier than an armor-piercing round. Leah had known just where to strike.
Weaknesses aren’t allowed, remember?
So why did it feel like she’d just cut out my heart?
Straightening, I shoved myself away from the desk. “Let’s head upstairs.”
I was halfway across the room before I realized Leah wasn’t following. I didn’t want to care. Before this woman, I’d avoided caring about anyone but my brothers. Somehow she broke through the barriers I’d never allowed to be breached, found the soft underbelly I hadn’t known existed.
Fuck that.
“Remi.”
My name on her lips jerked my body to a stop without my permission. How the hell had I let a woman I’d had no more than a handful of conversations with gain this kind of power over me? Planting my hands on my hips, I glared up at the ceiling and wished I could just keep walking. “Yeah?”
Footsteps behind me, soft, suspicious—a barefoot attacker, knife ready to slip between my ribs. She stopped just out of sight. “I’m sorry.”
Was she? She’d gotten what she wanted—me away from her.
“I just— I don’t understand what’s going on here.”
Who the fuck did? “We’re trying to find your daughter, Leah. That’s it.” The fact that my heart hadn’t got the fucking memo didn’t mean a damn thing.
“No, that’s not it, and you know it.” She walked around to face me. “I mean what’s going on between us. What’s— ” She swallowed hard, her gaze drifting from mine again. “Why were you following me?”
I’d have thought that was obvious. “Apparently I was looking for the first chance to sweep in and force you to fuck me.”
Leah flinched. Her arms crossed over her ribs, gripping tight. “I guess I deserve that.”
I didn’t answer, wouldn’t allow myself to strike out any more than I already had.
“Remi…” Shoving a hand through her hair, Leah raised her eyes to mine. “I am sorry I said that. I know it’s not true.”
I forced my tense muscles to soften, forced my anger away. Tearing each other apart wouldn’t get us anywhere; the only thing that would was clearing away the bullshit.
“You were protecting yourself.”
A strained chuckle left her. “From what?”
“From the fact that you want me.”
A flush of pink crept across her cheeks. “No, I don’t. I—”
I was just enough of a bastard not to let that one pass. “Do you really want me to prove it?” I asked, one eyebrow arched.
The panic that had sparked this whole shit show made a hasty return. Of course she didn’t want me to prove it. Then she might have to admit she lusted after a killer.
That’s what I was, what I would always be in her eyes. I’d accepted it a long time ago. It was only when I looked into those fierce brown eyes that I wanted to be something different.
“Remi, we can’t— I don’t—”
“You don’t?” I stepped forward, something in me relishing Leah’s sudden retreat. “We can’t?” If I was the bad guy, why not own it? Give in? Prove to us both that I wasn’t worthy to touch the princess. To have her.
I might not be worthy, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t fully capable.
“Remi.”
“Jeremiah,” I barked, unable to resist the constant need to hear my full name on her lips. This might be my only opportunity.
“Jer—what?”
“My name,” I said, gravel coming to the fore. “Jeremiah.” Levi, Jeremiah, Elijah. Our heritage was strong, and we carried it with us despite the fact that our parents had been ripped away. “Jeremiah.”
Leah’s step hitched. Her lips curved, forming the first syllable of my name.
“Say it.” I prowled closer. “Say it, Leah.”
Her back hit the wall behind her. She startled, shook her head.
I planted my fists on either side of her shoulders and leaned close. “Why not? Too intimate?” I nuzzled her ear, taking in her scent like the animal I’d become, the animal I kept tightly under control. “What are you afraid I’ll hear if you say my name?”
“I’m not afraid.”
The trembling in her words said otherwise. Something deep inside me purred at the realization.
Christ, what was wrong with me?
“Tell me, Leah.” I trailed my lips over the shell of her ear. Took the lobe between my teeth and nipped. “It’s been a year and a half. Are you telling me there wasn’t a single night in all that time that you didn’t dream of me? Didn’t wake up in the middle of the night and touch yourself, imagining it was my fingers, my mouth. My cock.”
A small sound escaped her.
This time I nipped the curve of her jaw.
“Tell me,” I said again. “Tell me you haven’t wanted me every day for the last eighteen months just like I’ve wanted you. Tell me you haven’t thought about me. Tell me you didn’t care if you never saw me again.” I skated my lips along the velvet curve of her jawline. “Say my name, Leah. Say it and I’ll let you go.”
It was a lie. This close to kissing her? I could never let her go. Pulling back might destroy me.
I licked the corner of her mouth. “Say it.”
Her lips opened, so slowly. She turned until our mouths lined up, allowing me to see the hesitant desire in her eyes even while her body remained tense. “Jeremiah.”
I groaned, swallowing my name on her lips. But it was Leah who raised just that little bit onto her tiptoes and took my mouth with hers.
I was lost the minute her mouth opened against mine.
Coffee and Leah and truth. That’s what I tasted. Maybe this was the only truth we could have between us, with our bodies. The place where what we told ourselves and each other dissolved and what we truly felt came through. I’d never wanted that with anyone else, but with Leah I craved that shit like a drug.
Reaching down, I grasped behind her knees and lifted, urged her to hook her legs around my waist. Leah’s hands fisted in my T-shirt; my weight pressed her into the wall. The position opened her body to me, my cock fitting as natural as breathing into the notch between her legs. I licked into her mouth, pressed my lips hard against the softness of hers. Ground my erection against her body.
A surprised sound filtered from her mouth to mine. I swallowed it down.
She felt like a fucking dream, and maybe that’s what she was. How many times had I imagined this moment, imagined thrusting my tongue into her mouth, tangling with hers, swallowing the taste of her over and over. How many times had I imagined the tightness of her nipples dragging against my chest, the damp heat of her pussy against my cock? More times than I could count. More often than I’d admit even to myself, but here it was, finally. Absolutely.
Jeremiah.
My cock kicked against Leah’s clit.
She dragged her mouth away, but her hands were in my hair, digging deep, refusing to let me escape. I bent to her neck, took the skin between my teeth and sucked hard, needing my mark on her, needing to brand her as mine. Needing to prove this moment was real and I wasn’t about to wake up with come splashed across my belly like I had a million times before.
“Remi.” Leah panted in my ear. Her hips rolled against mine, threatening to undo me. “God, Remi!”
So close. She’d been in my arms less than five minutes, and she was so close to climax. I could hear it in her voice, feel it in the urgency of her pelvis as she rode the ridge of my cock. And I wanted to give it to her more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life, including my own release. I wanted to see her body seize, see the tension ball up and explode, leaving her soft and pliant in my arms.
Snaking a hand beneath her T-shirt, I smoothed over hot skin until I found the edge of her bra. Shoved up. Taking Leah’s mouth again, I plumped her breast and pinched the taut nipple between my fingers.
Leah surged against me. A high whine escaped into my mouth.
I pinched again, rolled the tip between finger and thumb.
She convulsed in my arms.
Pressing her hard into the wall, I let her ride my cock as she hit her peak. Swallowed every moan and sob as each wave took her. Eyes open, I soaked in the beauty of orgasm on her face, the strain and need and, finally, relief. I soaked it in and knew this was far more than I’d ever deserved. Leah’s trust, her vulnerability.
The greatest gift I’d ever been given.
And when she tipped her head back against the wall, trying to breathe, trying to regain control, I buried my face in the curve of her neck and wished I could keep her forever. It was fucking stupid, a child’s impossible dream, to become someone else, someone worthy of the only woman I’d ever wanted to possess. But I closed my eyes and prayed to whatever force might be listening to somehow, please, make it come true.
Chapter Twelve
Leah —
My mind was a mix of haze and satisfaction. Surrounded by Remi’s warmth and strength, I floated on a sea of nothingness that I never wanted to leave. And Remi’s head tucked against my neck— I’d never associated tenderness with my feelings for this man, but right now, with his head bowed against me and his arms holding me up… My heart melted.
I released the handfuls of shirt fisted in my fingers and slid them up the smooth expanse of his neck to the tendrils of hair that were just long enough to curl. His breath hitched at my touch, his hips shifting the slightest bit between my legs.
He was hard. Still hard, his heart drumming against my breast.
He hadn’t come.
“Remi.”
<
br /> He growled against my throat, the vibrations sending aftershocks through my body.
“Jeremiah,” I said softly, the syllables spilling from my tongue with a sweet ache I hadn’t intended to reveal.
This time Remi purred.
“I—” My knees clenched involuntarily, nudging him closer. “You haven’t—”
The swish of the elevator doors opening cut off whatever I’d been struggling to say.
“Wow!” Eli crossed the room, one hand coming up to block his view of us against the wall. Of course his fingers were parted, so it wasn’t very effective. Perv. “Not what I thought I’d be interrupting, but okay.”
A warning rumbled against my shoulder. “Dickhead.”
I choked back a laugh. Then groaned as Remi backed up and allowed my legs to slide from his hips.
I hadn’t used those muscles in a while. Ouch.
I’d definitely used them with Remi. The fact that the thought didn’t send me into a tailspin of panic should have set off warning sirens in my brain, but there were too many endorphins already swimming around in there for it to make much headway.
Remi’s big hands were on my hips, rubbing discreetly along the joints and the tops of my thighs as if he knew exactly what I was feeling. I slid my palms down to his biceps, gripping the heavy muscles until his eyes met mine.
“I—”
Damn. Why was I always fumbling with words with this man?
Remi’s lips were tight, his body tense. Guilt hammered at me. Was he upset that I had finished and he hadn’t? Was he wishing this hadn’t happened? Was he—
He leaned in until his lips brushed my ear. “Damn my little brother and his fucking interruptions,” he growled. And it was a growl—the words quaked through my body, sending shards of pleasure to places that really shouldn’t be feeling this way with someone else in the room with us.
A little hiccup of a laugh escaped me.
Remi straightened, cleared his throat. “Let’s get out of here.”
Assassin's Heart (Assassins Book 4) Page 7
