Corrupted Love: A Dark Mafia Romance (Mackenzies Book 2)
Page 3
“You’re pulling out Jord’? Hold on,” he finishes off his scotch and waves his hand up for one of his bottle service girls to fetch him another. “Alright. Whatever it is, I’m sure I can handle it.”
“This is something I’ve never told anyone, so I need you to pinky promise me you won’t ever say a word to anyone, not even my sister.”
Jordan extends his pinky to me and I wrap mine around his. “Pinky promise,” we both say at the same time.
“If I trusted you with my secret about Lacey, you know you can trust me with anything.”
“God, you still haven’t pursued her? What are you even waiting for?” Lacey is a woman Jordan has known his entire life, a woman who spent a summer with him at his family’s lake house in Georgia. Over that hot summer, their feelings grew and so did the chemistry between them. But he left and never looked back. Okay, maybe that’s a lie. He’s always looking back because he’s in denial about how much he regrets leaving the lake house.
“Aren’t we talking about your secret? Why did mine come back up?” Jordan grumbles.
“Fine, whatever. I’ll bark up that tree another day. My father isn’t just any man, Jord. He’s a very powerful man. He’s dangerous, and I know you’re assuming he didn’t raise us because he didn’t want to be bothered . . . but that wasn’t it. He sent us here with my godparents so we could be raised in a safe environment, away from the dangers that surround him.”
“Are you about to tell me your old man is Sammy the Bull or some shit?”
Immediately I go cold. Sammy the Bull is one of New York’s most notorious gangsters. “Eh, something like that.”
Jordan stares at me in complete disbelief. “Motherfucker, where is that drink?” He looks around for one of his girls and sighs heavily. “You’re not the only one here who has a dangerous father, Greer. I see the irony in it now, why we get along so well, ‘cause we understand each other more than we ever knew.”
I sink further into my friend. The friend who everyone believes I’m dating, when in reality he’s more of a brother to me than my actual blood. I’ve never even spoken to Liam before, but Jordan has always been here for me and I know he always will.
I’m suddenly being dragged out of the booth and Jordan has a devious smile on his face. “What are you doing?” I ask, laughing.
“C’mon, you know what will make you feel better?”
“No.”
“Getting out on this dance floor and letting the night take you away. C’mon,” Jordan continues to tug me along.
“Wait, Jordan! I’m supposed to be back at the apartment by one. I promised Leti and Sloane.”
I live with my sister, and my cousin, Leticia, Leti for short. She’s the daughter of my mother’s brother, Alejandro. My uncle lives in Canada and Leti went to school at the University of Southern California. The three of us had a great idea to rent an apartment together in LA, figuring it would be safer being in the city and all, and it’s worked out really well . . . besides the occasional blow up with Sloane of course.
“I will make sure we’re back to your place before the clock strikes one.” Jordan snickers, making me doubt his word, but still I let him drag me onto the dance floor. He’s right about one thing. I need to destress.
Chapter Four
Trust the timing of your life. Stay patient, stay calm, stay determined, stay focused, and most of all trust your journey.
~ Unknown
Greer
New Year’s Day
“You said we’d be back by one. You’re going to get me in so much trouble.” I slur as Jordan and I are clinging onto one another, desperately trying to stay upright. He had his driver drop us both off here and head home since I told him I’d let him crash on the couch. Jordan makes a mean breakfast, so he would’ve been crazy if he thought I wasn’t going to demand his buttermilk pancakes. God, my mouth is salivating right now.
I don’t live in a super fancy joint, but it’s in a nice side of town and the rent isn’t atrocious. Since I live with Leti and Sloane we split all our bills three ways. The three of us were very adamant on the fact we wanted to be able to support ourselves. In Sloane’s and my case, our father had always sent money to our godparents to help support a comfortable lifestyle. Leti on the other hand has a daddy who will pay for everything she ever wanted. Including the rent. I remember our uncle Alejandro nearly lost his shit when she told him she was going to pay for it herself, because she would go to work and begin supporting herself. Needless to say, he wasn’t thrilled.
It’s a little after three in the morning and I’m terrified about the wrath I’m going to be facing from Leti and Sloane. I’m the partier of the bunch, so they want me to always be back by a curfew. Funny how living with two girls is worse than living with my godparents. Leti’s only about a year older than us, too, so it’s just insane to me.
Jordan and I make it to the elevator and I swipe my keycard to get it to open. Our building has some amazing security features that keep people from coming in and out as they please. It’s one of the things that was most important to us. Sloane and I aren’t dumb, we know that if our father had to keep us this far away, it’s most definitely for a good reason. Thank goodness our godparents took down the shield around our hearts and finally told us the nitty-gritty, about this scorned lover of our mother’s being dead set on taking away everything precious from our father —aka, us.
Just because we’ve been lucky over the years doesn’t mean we’ll start acting stupid now. I press the seventh floor and we lean against the back of the elevator as it lifts us up, practically stumbling out when the doors open again. I don’t know why, but I start to laugh like this is the funniest thing ever.
“God, I must be drunk.”
“Obviously. We’re both drunk.” Jordan laughs alongside me.
The two of us continue down the hallway before I topple over and hit the floor. My daring red heels might be sexy, but they aren’t practical. I laugh, covering my mouth and smile at Jordan, who kneels down in front of me.
The jovial laughter dissipates and he looks over me, almost like he’s assessing every inch of my body. Furrowing his brows, he asks a question. “Did you hurt yourself?”
Shaking my head, I answer. “No, I’m fine. I’ve taken worse tumbles.” Far worse tumbles, a tumble that Jordan knows about, which is why he beat Benji within an inch of his life. He only stopped because I said I didn’t want to be as bad as my ex. I wanted to be better. Jordan wasn’t too pleased with me that day.
Jordan’s expression falters and twists to anger. “I hate what he did to you, Greer. You don’t have any idea how badly I wanted to kill him, and I would’ve done that if you didn’t stop me. I would’ve killed him, for you.”
I don’t know what to think at Jordan’s confession. My eyes widen and heat spans through my chest, up my neck, and I know I’m turning beet red. In all my life, I’ve expected a lot of things to come from Jordan Steele, but never this. “I appreciate what you did do, how you helped keep him away from me.”
“You think I’d let some fucking shithead like him come close to you again? Hell no. Even if I’m in Atlanta I’ll make one call and you’ll be protected. Fucking psychopath.” He sneers, running his hand below my jaw, he freezes and I’m caught staring into his dark eyes.
Somehow, I feel like something’s wrong. “What, Jordan?” I search his eyes for the answers, though I don’t know if I’ll find them there.
“Have you ever just . . . thought about if we could work? I know we always joke and say we wouldn’t, how it couldn’t, but Greer, you’re one hell of a woman.”
My stomach sinks down, practically flying out of my asshole. “Jord’, you’ve loved Lacey for years. Ever since that summer you two were at your dad’s lake house. You need to tell her. She could feel the same and you don’t know it.”
He sinks his head down and shakes it before looking back up to me. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that I don’t want to live wi
th regrets, Greer. I know I’m fucking plastered, and I know you are too. Hell, maybe that’s why I’m saying this right now. Maybe the alcohol is the only thing giving me the courage, but I don’t wanna regret not giving this a shot with you. What if what the press is always saying about us, could be true. It could be the greatest thing we’ve ever known, and the only way we will know is if we give it a shot.”
I gulp and think about what he’s saying. The entire reason I’ve been thinking about going to see my father is because I don’t want to live with any regrets. Maybe it’s time I follow what I’m already preaching.
I glance over every feature from his dark, focused eyes to the way his beard is just as perfect as everything else about him. He has chiseled cheekbones, and his physique is more like a boxer versus a bodybuilder or a swimmer. Jordan has just enough definition but not too much.
The way I cross my legs proves to me how much I know I shouldn’t take up this offer, but how much I selfishly want to. It could be one and done, or he could be my future. I won’t know until I try.
I grab onto the collar of Jordan’s shirt with the speed of a cheetah and pull him closer to me until our lips our crashing against each other’s. Releasing my legs, I give him enough room to get a bit closer to me and feel his hardness pressing into my stomach. God, just based on the imprint I know what I’ve heard about him can’t be a lie.
He wraps his hand around my neck and holds me like I’m his possession, showing the utmost dominance I’ve ever seen in a man. Healthy dominance that is. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth before he bites down, and with his free hand he’s tracing it over my breast. My nipple quickly comes to action, and I love the way it feels with his hands over me.
Fuck, it’s been so long since I’ve had a man touch me like this.
I dart my tongue into his mouth, not even giving a damn how sloppy this is. I want passion, heat, savagery. I want disgusting, fuck me in the middle of the hallway, because I’m a needy whore sex. Whoa. Okay, that was a little shocking.
“Jesus, I want to fuck you right now, right here . . .” He says as he rips his lips away from mine.
“Do it, Jordan, before I change my mind.” I grit, not wanting to come to my senses. I’m about to fuck the man who I call my best friend, my brother from another mother. I could change my mind at any second, but I’d prefer to feel a little better after my sexual needs have been taken care of for another few months.
Fuck . . . has it really been that long?
Jordan looks around and smirks, lifts me up and takes me to the stairwell entrance, right next to the elevator. He sets me down and I kick these death traps I call heels off, standing in my bare feet, immediately heading toward his cock. I’m like a child ripping away the tissue paper on Christmas morning, ready to unwrap my present. It just so happens my present is Jordan Steele’s dick.
He helps me get his pants unzipped and pushes them down a bit, just enough so I can see his cock and the v shape I’d love to lick. I’m thinking about it right now, running my tongue over his defined muscle.
“You need to tell me you want this, Greer.” He says, his tone rough, almost like he’s trying to restrain himself.
Dropping down to my knees, I open my mouth and take his cock down my throat, staring up into his eyes as I start to give him a blowjob, making his dick nice and wet. Upon pulling my mouth away from his shaft, it makes a popping sound and I smirk. “Is that a good enough answer for you?”
Jordan looks pissed, like a raging bull in Spain. He gets down on the floor, flips me over onto my knees and shoves the front of my back so my face is pressing up against the concrete of the landing. I feel his body heat radiating onto me, and the sensation of his head pressing against my entrance is almost too much to bear.
In one movement he rams his cock into me. One hand on the back of my neck, and the other on my hip. He holds me securely in place while he fucks me the way I need to be fucked. Women crave very little, and yet men can’t seem to realize that. Treat us sweet but fuck us like we’re whores.
I want a man who will make me feel like a queen but slam his cock into me like I’m really one of his concubines.
Is that too much to ask for?
“Fuck, Jordan.” I moan, feeling my core already heating up. It’s almost pathetic how quickly he’s giving me pleasure. I haven’t had sex in months, nor have I used my battery-operated-boyfriend, Julio. “Please don’t stop, even if I beg you to.” I plea, hoping he’ll give me exactly what I need.
He snakes the hand that’s on my back around to the front of my neck and holds on, tightening slightly but only enough to give me a bit of pressure. “I will keep fucking you until I’m done with you.” He hisses, and holy hell, my body reacts to his words.
I grit my teeth and let out soft, long moans while my pussy heats up, ready to explode. Even if I do regret this in the morning, I can’t lie, I needed to be fucked like this.
I only hope this one night doesn’t ruin the years-worth of friendship we’ve created.
Chapter Five
“What is your biggest regret?”
“That I have said no to so many good things in life just because I wasn’t sure of them.”
~ The Random Stories
Greer
New Year’s Day
I slowly stir in bed under the comfort of my heavy duvet. It gives you that sort of secure feeling just based on the weight. I turn my head to the left and the right until my neck pops like it does every morning and roll over, ready to get out of bed, but I roll into something.
The first thing I see when I open my eyes is a chiseled chest and a happy trail leading to something. Suddenly, everything comes rushing back like a tidal wave.
No. No. No. No!
My eyes are glued to Jordan’s face and I see he hasn’t stirred in the least bit. I back away, cautious of the movements I make, and go down the side of my bed until I can exit at the end. I have the smallest room, so my bed is up against the wall . . . but I have access to the balcony, so I’m the lucky one if you ask me.
I quickly grab a camisole and a pair of shorts and leave my bedroom, heading straight to the kitchen to get my morning cup of joe. Lord knows I need it. Especially right now. I put in a new filter, scoop in two heavy servings of French vanilla coffee grounds, and make sure there’s water in the back before I start to brew it.
Placing two hands on the counter, I breathe in heavily. “What in the fuck did I do?” I ask myself.
“I want to know who, not really what.” Leti snickers from behind me.
I jump at the sudden sound of her voice. I must’ve been so out of it I didn’t realize she was even in here. Turning around I glance at the time on the microwave and realize it’s a little after seven in the morning. “Do you not realize how much I heard your headboard slamming up against my wall last night? They do make things for that, you know.” She’s getting such a kick out of this.
Leti, my drop-dead gorgeous cousin. She could be a model too if she wanted. I have a couple connections with some brands looking for Latina representation. Leti has beautiful roasted almond skin, dark chocolate eyes, and naturally black hair. However, she gets a sort of honey-ombre done on it every six weeks like clockwork. She’s so pretty. Sometimes she doesn’t even realize how gorgeous she is either. It’s a rarity to see someone as humble as she is, especially in this day and age.
“Uh, sorry I. Um.” I struggle coming up with anything.
“Relax, cousin. I’m not judging, I’m over here applauding you. The last time I had sex was . . .”
“Edward. I know,” I groan, remembering her disgusting Wall Street boyfriend. He was one of those blond, blue eyed assholes who you know was in a fraternity. Puke much. Sloane and I were so thankful when Leti caught him on a dating site. She was so quick to end that relationship.
“Damn. It’s been that long? I need to get laid.” She brings her hand to her temple and shakes her head.
“Fuck, what was that noise last night?” Slo
ane grumbles, coming out of her bedroom which is directly off the kitchen. “I mean, I was drunker than a skunk, but even being drunk I know someone was getting some. Now, who was it?” Sloane’s smile is so big it could stretch across the entire room.
“Greer,” Leti giggles.
Sloane seems shocked. “No, stop screwing with me. It wasn’t you?”
Leti shakes her head. “Nope, it wasn’t. Greer was having a very good time. Be thankful your bedroom isn’t right next to hers.”
Sloane puts her finger in her mouth and makes gagging sounds. “No, thank you. There was a reason I didn’t want that room.”
“Ah, now I see.” Leti laughs again.
“So, give us all the details. Who was it?” Sloane laughs, heading over to the coffee pot. She grabs a mug from the rack next to it and pours some of the coffee that’s already brewed, showing just how horrible she is with patience. She turns back toward Leti and I, hops on the counter and sits there like she does every morning.
“Who was it?” Leti asks, staring me down for an answer. “Okay, okay, and when did he leave? I didn’t even hear the door this morning . . . and I’m up before either of you lazy ones.”
My door creaks and out comes Jordan, wearing only a pair of white, sheer boxers. Leti and Sloane are fixated on him. His hair is disgruntled, in a messy yet sexy way. Whoa. Fuck. There I go again. He appears to be completely unphased and struts right up to the coffee maker, opening a cabinet, probably looking for a mug.
Sloane hands one too him from the rack, and he smiles. “Thank you, Sloane. What a pleasant morning it is, am I right?”
Sloane eyes him up and down, her smile growing. “Oh, I’d have to agree.”
Leti widens her eyes, holding back her snickers.
Jordan grabs the coffee pot and pours himself a cup, puts the pot back, and leans against the counter, putting on quite the show for us girls. He takes a sip, moans and winks at me before he walks back into my bedroom and shuts the door.