Now Or Never (Erotic Romance) Book 2 (The DeLuca Brothers)

by DuBois, Lucinda

  “Cecile.” Her name fell from his lips.

  She let him slip from her mouth, glistening wet, and then he was pulling her to her feet. He crushed her against him as he captured her mouth with his. His kiss was fierce, feeding the flame inside her until it threatened to consume them both. The world was only his lips moving with hers, his body pressed against hers, eager and full. She wasn’t even aware that he’d been backing them towards the couch until she felt the arm of it against the back of her legs.

  He broke the kiss and turned her so quickly that her head spun. He pressed his hand against her back and she bent forward, her hands automatically reaching out to steady her. Her hair fell around her face, surrounding her in amber light and the scent of her mango shampoo. She wanted to push it back, away from her face, but at that moment, Anthony entered her and her existence narrowed down to that one spot where their bodies joined.

  His hands were firm on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh until she was sure she’d be bruised, and still she wanted him to hold her tighter. As he began to thrust, she held onto the arm of the couch, letting him take her body wherever it would go. She could see nothing but the sway of her hair as her body moved, could feel nothing but the rough material of the couch against her palms and his cock inside her. She heard her name on his every breath and her chest tightened until she could barely draw breath.

  Suddenly, her vision cleared as Anthony wrapped her hair around his hand, twisting it so that she turned her head and saw him. He pulled her up, her neck bending until it touched his shoulder, her back arched, her ass against his hips. He reached across her chest, one hand going to her breasts, holding it as he began to pound up into her, each stroke lifting her up onto her toes.

  His breath puffed hot against her ear as he spoke. “You can feel it, can’t you? We fit together. Two pieces of the same puzzle, completing each other. It’s not just about the sex. It’s about how one touch from you makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.”

  He rolled his hips and Cecile keened as he hit that spot inside her. She knew. She knew exactly what he was talking about. It wasn’t just a physical filling, but something far deeper and it scared her. She had no problem with sex, but letting someone know her, really know her, that was something she never allowed.

  “I see you and can’t take my eyes off of you.” Anthony shifted and Cecile began to shake. “I touch you and never want to stop. And I know it’s not just me. I’ve never seen anyone that responds to my touch the way you do.” He pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and she cried out.

  Cecile wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Still sore from the night before, her body protested to the rough treatment even as it craved it. Each stroke, the barest pressure on her nipples, each one was like electricity straight through her. It was pain. It was pleasure. Her mind couldn’t decide what she was feeling and so she felt it all, every bruise and ache, every wave of pleasure, until she was drowning in sensation.

  “Cum for me, Cecile,” Anthony demanded. “Just let go. I’ve got you.”

  He sank his teeth into her shoulder and she forgot that she was in an apartment with thin walls. Forgot that the man fucking her was a criminal. Forgot that she wasn’t supposed to want this. She forgot everything and screamed his name. Her body went limp, her eyes rolling in the back of her head, and still he didn’t stop. He draped her over the back of the couch and slammed into her over and over again, each thrust causing her already sore nipples to rub against the couch. She shuddered with each stroke, desperate for it to stop, for her body to be allowed to process, but it continued until she was writhing and crying for him to let her cum just one more time.

  She felt him go rigid behind her, felt him pulsing inside her, and then one finger was brushing against her clit and her world vanished in a flash of white.

  Chapter 8

  She felt Anthony stroking her cheek as she came back to herself. The touch was light, gentle, in stark contrast to his rough handling earlier. Her insides squirmed pleasurably as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on the soft skin just under her earlobe.

  “I would ask if you enjoyed yourself,” Anthony said softly, “but I think I can take a scream and then unconsciousness as a sign of a job well done.”

  She could hear the smug amusement in his voice and smiled as she snuggled back against him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and that was when she realized that they were lying on her couch, both still unclothed. She must not have been out that long because she wasn’t yet cold.

  “So,” Anthony continued. “Should we actually get dressed and go out, or do you want to just head to the bedroom? Give me some more of that talented mouth of yours and I’ll be ready to go again in no time.”

  She liked the sound of that. Taking him in her mouth again. Slowly exploring every delicious inch with her tongue. She wanted it. Wanted to feel him spill across her tongue. Taste him as he spurted into her mouth. She wanted to feel his hands running over every part of her body. They could take hours and worship each other…

  “I don’t have to go in until late in the morning, so I’ve got plenty of time. When’s your shift start?”

  Cecile’s eyes flew open, her body going cold, as if doused by a bucket of cold water. Work. Anthony was going back to work. She sat up, her stomach churning. She’d trusted him without even thinking about it. How could she have been so stupid?

  Anthony must’ve seen the expression on her face because he sat up as well, his entire demeanor shifting from flirtation to concern. “Cecile, are you okay?”

  “You’re not going to change,” she whispered. She wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or to Anthony, but it didn’t matter. The outcome would be the same either way.

  “Cecile?” He put his hand on her shoulder.

  She shook it off, getting to her feet. She needed him to stop touching her. When he touched her, she couldn’t think straight. All she wanted was him to touch her more. She snatched up her robe, suddenly feeling far more naked than she had before. She turned her back on Anthony as she pulled on the garment.

  “What’s going on?”

  Cecile turned towards Anthony but didn’t look at him. She didn’t trust herself. “I told you that we couldn’t be together.”

  “Then what was all this?” Anthony’s tone was hurt, but Cecile could hear the edge of anger to it.

  She took a deep breath. The least she could do is have the guts to look him in the face when she said it. “This was a mistake.”

  “A mistake.” The words came out flat. “I found you because I wanted to be with you and I thought you wanted to be with me too.”

  “I do.” She forced herself to admit it. She crossed her arms, as if she could hold herself together through sheer willpower. “I thought this would make a difference. That either we’d both realize that we were imagining this connection or you’d…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Or I’d what?”

  There was an edge to Anthony’s voice that made the knot in Cecile’s stomach tighten.

  “Or I’d quit my job, right?” He yanked on his pants. “Make everything nice and neat for you, wouldn’t it? Give yourself a little pat on the back because you get a big bad gangster off of the streets and then you can tell yourself that you reformed me so you don’t have to be ashamed of who I am. You don’t know why I do what I do. All you can see is your perfect little world and how I don’t fit into it.”

  “You think it’s about being ashamed of you?” Cecile’s temper flared and she pushed back the small part of her that reminded her that she actually was a little concerned with what people would think. That wasn’t the point. “You hurt people, Anthony.”

  “So do you,” he snapped as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Or are you telling me you’ve never used that gun on anyone? Never arrested some kid in front of his crying mother? Taken a parent away from a screaming child? There’s a whole lot of shit in this world, Cecile, so d
on’t tell me that you don’t give your fair share.”

  “I uphold the law.” She fought to keep her voice even. The last thing she wanted was her neighbors calling the cops, but she was going to have her say. “It’s not perfect and I know that, but it’s what we’ve got. And you know what, I have arrested some punk kid who busted windows out of half a dozen cars, and his mother cried and cursed me to hell. But, I was also there in court to tell the judge that I thought the kid could be rehabilitated. As for that father I arrested in front of his screaming daughter, he’d spent the last six months beating the shit out of her and her mother. There may be mistakes made, but the good I do far outweighs any unintentional bad.”

  “Whatever you have to tell yourself so you can sleep at night.” Anthony stalked towards the door.

  “I sleep just fine. Why don’t you give your own life a once-over and tell me if you can say the same.” Cecile followed him.

  He yanked open the door, pausing to deliver one last remark. “You may sleep just fine, but you also sleep alone. Think about that when you’re congratulating yourself on a job well done.”

  He slammed the door shut behind him and Cecile slowly sank to the floor. Her hands were shaking and she wasn’t sure if it was because of what Anthony had said or because, despite all of it, there was a part of her screaming to go after him, and to hell with the consequences.

  Chapter 9

  Six days. It had been six days since Anthony had walked out of her apartment, and it wasn’t getting any easier. Cecile had done her break-up ritual of ice cream and beer. She’d cried herself to sleep that night, and then woken up with the intention to throw herself into work. At work, she’d asked for paperwork to do while the captain decided on her assignment, forcing herself to read and re-read every line to make sure everything was perfect. Staying busy had almost worked the first day, and then the captain asked her to proofread a report on Tommy DeLuca, one of Anthony’s cousins who’d married in to another of the city’s crime families. After that, with every new sheet she picked up, she’d braced herself until she read the name.

  When she’d gotten the go-ahead to start an undercover assignment, complete with a new shift, she’d been relieved. Nothing like a complete change in sleeping habits, accompanied by having to pay attention to surroundings, to prevent stray thoughts from popping up. Stray thoughts like a pair of dark eyes that nearly glowed black when filled with desire, or the scent of spicy aftershave.

  She’d taken the good-natured ribbing from her co-workers when she’d emerged from the locker room in her hooker heels, short skirt and tight top, but hadn’t been able to muster any real enthusiasm even though she’d been dreaming about going undercover for the NYPD since she was a little girl. Even Fredericks’ leers couldn’t elicit more than a lukewarm response.

  All week, she’d put in extra hours, including picking up someone else’s shift to avoid her first day off. Now, however, she had to go home and she wasn’t looking forward to it. As she changed out of her ‘hooker-wear,’ she went over every minute detail of the night’s arrests. She told herself it was to make sure she was prepared if she had to testify or if any of her reports were questioned, but she knew that they’d all been open and shut cases. The real reason for her obsessing was there in the back of her mind, hovering as it always did, just waiting for the slightest crack so it could push its way forward.

  As she headed back to her apartment, she couldn’t help but be frustrated at herself. This was what she’d always wanted and she should be happy. She was living in New York City, away from the bickering and drama of her family who saw her living in Ohio as taking sides. She was working undercover in Vice and should be able to graduate from prostitute to druggie in no time. If Lieutenant Day was impressed with her work, she might even get a transfer to Missing Persons within a year or so. He had connections. The people she worked with were great, even if Fredericks could be a bit of an ass-hat, when it came down to it, he was as loyal as they came.

  There were the downsides, of course. Working the streets in barely-there clothes when the temperature was dropping was far from fun, and she found it difficult to restrain from breaking fingers when her ‘customers’ got overly friendly before she could get them to her team for the arrest. Her feet ached from the heels she wasn’t used to wearing and it took at least an hour in a scalding shower before she felt even remotely clean again.

  Cecile knew, though, that none of these things would have bothered her very much if there hadn’t been this whole thing with Anthony. She hated that just a few days with him had made her so weak. She’d never been the type of girl who moped after break-ups. Usually there was just a night of comfort food and pajamas, maybe two if she had a day off after, but it had never been more than that. She’d always prided herself, in fact, that she wasn’t like a lot of the women she’d grown up with where their priorities were always finding and keeping a man, no matter what they said. Her career had always been number one, the place where she’d found purpose and joy. Now, it all seemed pale and dull and she hated that he could make her feel that way.

  She began undressing as soon as she closed the door behind her, leaving her clothes wherever they happened to fall. She knew she should eat something, but she hadn’t had much of an appetite lately. She told herself that it was because of the shift change, that her body still wasn’t used to being up all night and sleeping during the day, but she knew it was a lie.

  After showering, she forced herself to eat a cereal bar and then curled up in her bed. She didn’t cry, hadn’t cried since that first night, but she didn’t do anything else either. As she pulled the blankets tighter around her, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to think about anything.

  Her phone woke her up a few hours later and she couldn’t stop the stab of hope that went through her even as she scolded herself for even considering that it was Anthony calling. It had been a week. If he hadn’t called her already, he wasn’t going to.

  Still, she couldn’t help but be disappointed when she saw that it wasn’t Anthony. “Morgan?”

  “Sorry, C. Did I catch you at a bad time?” Cecile’s former partner sounded concerned. Morgan Collins was almost two decades older than Cecile, so theirs was more of a teacher-student relationship than true friends, but he’d always been there when she’d needed him.

  “No, just on a night shift. Working vice.”

  “Ah,” Morgan said. “You’re the hooker bait.”

  “The shoes are going to be the death of me.” She tried joking, but she could hear the flat note.

  “Are you okay?”

  Cecile rubbed her hand over her eyes and stifled a sigh. If she had a problem with a case, Morgan would be the first person she’d go to, but relationship advice, that was another story. Especially when she could imagine the disappointment in his voice when he heard she was pining over an enforcer from a local crime family. “I’m fine, Morgan. Just some personal shit. What’s up?”

  “I just wanted to let you know that we got break on the Espinoza case and it looks like you were right.”

  Cecile sat straight up, all thoughts of Anthony and her problems disappearing. “Weathers took her.”

  Every cop had a case that haunted them and the disappearance of thirteen year-old Elena Espinoza was Cecile’s. She’d only been on the force for a couple of weeks, doing routine patrols with Morgan, when they’d nearly run over Mrs. Espinoza in the middle of the street. The woman was frantic, saying that her daughter had gone missing. Cecile had followed the case diligently, even taking coffee to the detectives working it so that she could get the inside track. When, just a few days later, the disappearance was deemed a runaway and attention shifted to other cases, Cecile had done her own investigating. She’d been convinced that a family friend named Jake Weathers had been involved somehow, but she’d never been able to prove it.

  “I’ve been going after Brown and Kiles to take a look at what you found, but they hadn’t bothered until two days ago when a suspect in
a completely unrelated case said something in passing about his girlfriend’s cousin drunkenly bragging about how the cops were too stupid to find out where he’d stashed some missing girl because he’d used a former girlfriend’s name on the lease. Brown and Kiles have been going over all of your notes, getting all of the names of Weathers’ exes and checking them against property records.”

  “Did they arrest him?” Cecile stood up and began to pace.

  “Not yet. They’re getting a warrant to search his place this morning. They should have the property search results this evening. I just thought you’d want to know.”

  “I did. Thank you.”

  “I need to go, but I’ll keep you updated.”

  “Thank you,” Cecile repeated.

  “You know, C, it really is too bad you’re not here for this. If you hadn’t talked to all of those people about Weathers back then and gotten the names of his exes, this case might’ve run cold again.”

  Cecile sat on the edge of her bed. Nearly five years, and there was finally a break in the case. It was almost too good to be true. She wished she could be there to see the look on that arrogant SOB’s face when they took him in. She could almost imagine the energy in the department, the pride on Morgan’s face when it was her hard work that took down Weathers. As much as it was her dream to work here, she did miss Morgan. And it would’ve been great to be involved in the trial, get to give testimony that helped lock that bastard away.

  Why couldn’t she?

  The idea popped into her head so suddenly that she wasn’t sure where it had come from. Why couldn’t she be there for all of that? If she requested a transfer back to her old city, she could finish out the case. She could make a name for herself there. Did it really matter if she arrested people here or there? It wasn’t like she’d be coming home because she’d failed, it would be an honest transfer. She wanted to see this case through and she might be able to get promoted faster. It was a smart decision for her career.