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Depraved

Page 7

by Pucci, Trilina


  But I know his dirty little secret. I’ve seen him sneak into the downstairs’ rooms at Church to have his way with the one woman who has him hooked.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s complicated. Too complicated.”

  I shrug and start opening cabinets, unfamiliar with the kitchen, searching around for something to cook.

  Matteo takes a seat at the island by the sound of the stool dragging against the floor. “But I’ll tell you my complicated story if you tell me yours.”

  I grab a box of pasta and turn around. “No way. There’s nothing to tell.”

  I lob the box at him, and he catches it midair.

  “Bullshit. What’s the deal with you two? And what’s this for?”

  My hands smack against the counter, and I look at him humorously. “You are going to learn to cook for yourself. And why do you care…you want to take a shot?”

  He laughs but stands and comes around the counter as I go in search of a pot.

  “And get shot? No fucking way…you belong to Dante.” His answer makes me swirl around.

  Matteo is standing there grinning at me while holding a shiny silver pot.

  “I belong to me,” I state firmly, jumping up to sit on the counter.

  I wave a finger at him and wonder how he seems to know his way around a kitchen.

  “I never said I couldn’t cook, just that I don’t have to. Now, come on and spill it.”

  All that charm and wit wasted on a manwhore.

  “Is this what it’s like to have girlfriends? I’m glad I passed.” I laugh, watching him turn on the faucet over the stove to fill the pot.

  He laughs loudly as he sprinkles salt and olive oil into the water. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll tell you one thing, and you tell me one thing.”

  Against my better judgment, I nod because Matteo is hard to resist. That damn charm and those puppy dog eyes win out every time. But he’s the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I feel bad for the women who fall for his shit. But for better or worse, he’s a friend.

  “I like her…you know who I’m talking about,” he starts, giving me a knowing look, and I nod. “But I fucked her sister. It meant nothing to us, but it will to her, because you know how she is with her. So now, it’s really damn complicated.”

  “You fucked—” I gasp before he cuts me off.

  “Eh, eh, eh. I will not confirm or deny a name,” he answers, tutting at me.

  I shake my head at him but secretly love the soap opera of it.

  “Your turn, beautiful.” He grins and leans against the counter.

  I take a deep breath and pick at a piece of fuzz on my sweats. “I like him. Too much.”

  “That’s it?” he deadpans, before checking the water.

  I roll my eyes and rest back onto my hand.

  “Yeah. I don’t say that lightly. I don’t ever stay in one place very long. My family always finds me, but this time, I went unseen for so long, and that fucked with my head. I did shit I shouldn’t have.”

  “Dante…you did Dante,” he teases like the asshole he is.

  But I ignore him and continue. “And now he’s going to stay with me, curled up inside me, like a reminder of possibilities I don’t get. It’s like this shitty lump in my throat that I can’t get rid of and can’t swallow down.”

  Matteo grins, and I see the dirty thought about to come out, so I toss an orange at him from the bowl next to me. “Don’t.”

  He catches it midair and tosses it back. “I wasn’t going to. I was going to say, so you really like him. And if I had to guess, you keep telling yourself that you can’t miss what you don’t have…right?”

  Nail meet head.

  “Something like that,” I answer.

  “Well, sweetheart, life doesn’t work that way. You’ve already taken a bite, so you can’t forget the taste. Might as well have some fun while he sorts out your crazy-ass situation.”

  Does he make sense, or am I looking for an excuse? My eyebrows draw together as I look down at my thighs on the countertop, contemplating what he’s said.

  Nope. Not going to figure that one out today. I shake my head and look up, snapping my fingers at Matteo.

  “Shut up and cook. I’m hungry, bitch.”

  “Soo fucking lucky you’re a girl.”

  Before I can answer, his cell buzzes, and he looks down at the number, hitting the Answer button quickly. “What’s up, boss?”

  “You beckoned,” I drawl sweetly, standing in front of Dante in the middle of the dimly lit little Italian restaurant called Mama’s in my sweats, flip-flops, and an old T-shirt that says Al’s Autobody.

  I’ve never been here, but I’ve heard the guys talk about it plenty, and considering when we got here all that’s been spoken around me is Italian, I figure this place is pretty authentic.

  “Sit.” He juts his chin to the space across from him and takes a bite of his entrée. “Do you want some wine?”

  I can’t help the irritated look that plays across my face before I blurt out, “Why am I here, Dante? This is embarrassing.”

  He looks up, maybe surprised by my candor, and picks up his napkin to wipe his mouth.

  “Oh, don’t be a gentleman on my account. I know the real you; might as well treat the plate like a trough.” I grin, sitting down and scooting into place.

  He laughs and lifts the red wine toward me. I grab the stem of my wineglass and hold it up for him to pour.

  “I thought we’d have dinner together. Is that so terrible? And you look beautiful, Billy.”

  I lick my lips, almost feeling bad as he straightens the wine bottle and places it back on the table.

  “I had a lovely dinner being prepared for me back at lockdown.” I bring the delicious and much-needed glass of wine to my lips and take a sip.

  Dante drops his utensils down by his plate, leaning back into the soft cushioned red banquette. “How is it you hate me for helping you? Explain that. You’d think you’d be nicer.”

  I hate the way he looks at me, because I know the only reason I’m pushing back so hard is that I can’t risk him finding out everything I’m tangled up in. He’s too stubborn and pushy, and my little fight would go from street match to a world war.

  But that look. Like I’m ungrateful…no, like I’m disappointing him. It’s gutting me.

  “Don’t look at me that way.”

  My voice is quiet as I take another sip of wine.

  “What way? Like I’m surprised that a smart girl like you wouldn’t know how to show your appreciation? Or that I’m disappointed that you haven’t offered yet?”

  What. The. Fuck.

  That’s the last answer I expected from his lips.

  I huff out a laugh and swallow back my wine, bringing the glass down harder than necessary. “Nice to see your true colors, Dante. First, I’m appreciative of favors when I ask for them, and even though we made a deal today, that doesn’t mean I’m suddenly the damsel you want me to be. And I’m not at all sorry that I haven’t offered to blow you yet as a show of just how grateful I’m not.”

  Dante silently stares at me for a moment, possibly contemplating my death, but fuck him. He tips his head back, and a deep rumble fills the space as he laughs.

  He picks his knife and fork back up then cuts into some peppers. “I don’t want your body as gratitude. No, that I want you to offer freely. It’s more fun that way. I just meant you could figure out how to fucking be nice, Billy. But I see I was asking too much.”

  He keeps laughing to himself as he takes another bite, and I hate how much of an asshole I feel like. I grab the bottle and pour myself another glass.

  “I’m sorry. I’m the asshole. You’re right. We made a deal, but you said we still had negotiations, so that thought is still lurking… I need to be careful with men like you…you can’t blame me too much.”

  His brow furrows as I speak, and he reaches for his own wineglass.

  “Men like me? Men like your family? Tell me about th
em.”

  The waiter approaches with a plate and sets it in front of me, and I blink at Dante.

  Of course he ordered for me. That’s a fight for another day.

  I place my napkin in my lap and close my eyes, taking in the delicious smell of the dish in front of me. “I already told Matteo their names. Their rap sheets will say it all.”

  “I know you did, but I want to hear it from your lips.”

  I take a bite of my salad and hum in appreciation around my fork before sliding it out from between my lips.

  “I’m jealous of a fork.” He teases, and I laugh.

  Dammit. He got a real laugh out of me.

  “If everything here is this delicious, my mouth will be making sweet love to this fork all night long.” I grin and take another bite.

  “I like you,” he states low and deep, dripped in the gravel his voice takes on when he’s turned on as he leans in.

  “I’m likeable,” I agree, enjoying the way he’s surveying me way too much.

  “How do I get you to give in?” he croons, grabbing the fork as it pops from my lips and putting it in his mouth.

  Goddamn him for being so sexy.

  “Let’s make a deal.” I half smile. “If you find my family in the next forty-eight hours, I’ll drop to my goddamn knees and let you do your worst.”

  He pulls the fork from his lips and offers it back to my smiling face. “Gorgeous and devious. You’re trying to make me fall in love with you, aren’t you?”

  Dante relaxes back and shakes his head. His expression makes my face drop. A cold shiver runs up my neck as my stomach flips because he isn’t amused. He’s validated.

  The look on his face tells me that whatever I just said told him more than I wanted him to know.

  His voice drops low as his smile fades more, giving way to the face of a man who knows he’s been misled.

  “So sneaky. See, you’re cheating because I need their real names to find them. Don’t I, Sarah?” I start to counter, to tell him I gave their real names, but he holds up a hand to stop me. “Do you think I believe that you’re operating under your real name? I had you checked out, and you’re too clean. Not even as much as a traffic ticket. I don’t trust anyone who’s never done anything left of right.”

  I don’t even open my mouth because it’s the only way to clamp down another lie that will fall out in an attempt to cover my ass.

  “Are you going to tell me what I want to hear, or am I going to have to drag it out of you, gorgeous? And before you say no, just know that your silence makes me want to dig even more…because you’re hiding for a reason.”

  My eyes drop to the table, needing a minute before I look up and say what I should’ve said from the beginning.

  It’s hard when you come from my life to ever really trust, but it’s easy to know when to fold and not dig yourself in deeper. I lift my head and ready myself for his reaction to what I’m about to say.

  “You’re right. I’ve been playing you. Withholding their names. But Dante, you having me here, in your house, acting like some kind of dark knight…that’s for you, not for me. I’m just biding my time. In two weeks, once you’ve played this out, I’ll slip away, nobody the wiser,” I admit without a hint of apology even though I feel guilty.

  His hazel eyes take in my features, and I watch him as he does. Fuck. He’s so unreadable. I can’t tell if he’s pissed or impressed.

  “Do you play chess?” he questions nonchalantly as the waiter clears our plates and sets down bowls of pasta in front of us.

  “No,” I answer, peering down at my food and wondering where he’s going with this.

  “The job of every piece on the board is to protect the queen because she’s so powerful.” His first two fingers run along the top of the wineglass. “Only people who are brazen, calculated, and willing to lose something important in order to win use her as a pawn to suck the other player’s pieces in, so that they can eventually take down the other player’s king.”

  My chest starts to rise quickly, seeing exactly where he’s going. He wouldn’t. No way.

  “You would use me as bait…to lure them in?”

  I wish I didn’t hear the fear that I feel in my voice, but I do and so does Dante by the look of victory on his face. God damn myself, because now he knows what cards to play.

  Dante leans in and tilts his head. “Only if you make me. Are you going to do that, Billy?”

  Making it my choice is so sadistic. He knows I won’t say yes. I can’t.

  The idea of being out there, knowing something could go wrong, and I could end up back with that family, sends a chill down my spine. I won’t go back to Boston. My name surely carries a bounty too big to hide from, because the only thing as scary as the Sovrano family is the Irish equivalent, the O’Bannion crew.

  But those ties that bind—the ones I shot dead on my wedding night—will be buried with me. Not even my father and brother would tell for fear they’d be killed because they knew too much.

  That’s my only solace.

  They won’t rat me out to the head of the Irish mob or to Dante if he finds them for fear they’d have to come clean about their back-door deal with the weakest link in that crew.

  “I need an answer.”

  Dante’s intimidatingly calm as he asks.

  “O’Malley. Patrick and Christopher O’Malley.”

  He sighs. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  I grab my wineglass and throw it back, holding it out for him to pour me another.

  He picks up the bottle, extending it and letting the liquid roll in.

  “I gotta tell you, this devious side…I like it. It suits you. Fire behind the ice.”

  “Jesus Christ, you’re twisted,” I breathe out, and he laughs.

  Tonight, I’m going to get drunk. Really drunk. Because there’s no reason not to. I’m in over my head with him. And if I’m going down, then I’ll do it with a lot of fucking wine.

  As if he hears my thoughts, Dante looks at me and grins.

  “Billy, tonight we have some fun. Tomorrow, we can fight.”

  SOFT SNORES COME FROM HER throat from where she’s lying next to me, tangled in my sheets. I’ve been watching her sleep most of Sunday morning, knowing the minute she wakes up, she’ll be ready to have my head.

  And I won’t blame her. I was all too happy to keep her glass full last night. The more she drank, the more she liked me. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see which side I’d be on.

  I smirk remembering how much we laughed and how much she flirted. If I wondered whether or not the attraction was shared, I wouldn’t have to guess anymore.

  I’ll need to remember that red wine brings out the monster in this girl. I like it.

  Her eyes begin to open, and her head tips back as she yawns. An arm pokes out from beneath the covers, stretching above her head and making the covers pull down, exposing a beautiful pink nipple.

  My head leans forward, but I stop. Fuck, I want to take it between my teeth and roll my tongue over the sensitive flesh until she’s desperate for me. But that would most definitely ensure my death, so I take her lips instead.

  I press a soft kiss down onto her mouth, hesitating to see her reaction, feeling her breath tickling my lips and making the parts I just warmed, cold. A breathy moan comes from her lips, and her body rocks forward as her hand weaves up my neck, pulling me in closer. Our lips tuck between each other’s, and my hand slides around to her back to pull her naked body flush against mine.

  Our tongues caress and glide over each other like it’s a dance we’ve been doing our whole lives. Sarah reaches down between us and wraps her hand around my engorged cock, pulling a groan from my throat, vibrating our mouths. I softly knead her breast, pinching her nipple, rolling the hardened bud between my fingers.

  Her hand stills, and my eyes pop open. Her own icy blues are wide as she pulls back slowly and swallows, evident that she’s pondering something violent.

  “Good morning
, Billy,” I say calmly. “You might want to let go of my cock before you make any rash decisions.”

  She flicks it hard toward my stomach with a little growl, making me gulp in a breath. She sits up quickly in bed, leaving the rest of her exposed, glaring down at me as I rub myself from her mishandling of my dick.

  “I’m going kill you. You know that, don’t you? How could you?!”

  Sarah grabs a pillow and hits me with it before bunching up the comforter and pulling it around her, her grunts and breaths filled with exasperation.

  Who is she trying to kid…she was awake.

  “Violence isn’t the answer,” I tease, holding up my arm. “And I didn’t do anything to warrant that verdict. It was just a kiss. I thought you were awake.”

  “Bullshit,” she spits, pushing off the bed and taking the blanket and sheet with her, turning to look at me. “Jesus Christ. Cover yourself up.”

  I grin, lying back completely nude.

  “I can’t. You took the blanket and the sheet. You were adamant that we sleep in the nude last night. Who am I to say no to a beautiful woman?”

  Beautiful is an understatement. She’s fucking gorgeous like this. Hair wild, flushed and ready to do some damage. She’s fucking perfect.

  Sarah marches to the middle of the room where she threw off most of her clothes last night and bends down to pick them up.

  “Real classy. I was smashed. And I remember almost everything…the only thing I’m foggy on is why I’m naked in your room. You could’ve put me in my room.”

  “You just kept saying ‘I’m not allowed to wear clothes in the house’ and ‘my place is next to you.’ It was actually pretty entertaining and accurate. I prefer you in the nude and in my bed.”

  “Where the fuck are my sweatpants?” she yells, sorting through her clothes as I shrug.

  My name is called out from inside the house, and I know the guys are here, so I push out of bed. “No clue, but I have business. So you keep your pretty little ass in here until I’m done.”

  Throwing on some gray sweatpants hanging over a chair, I grab a T-shirt and head to the door.

  “Dante. I’m not staying in here and waiting until you get done with your lackeys. I’m going out in a damn blanket if need be and going to my room.”

 

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