Adriano & Cam

by Soraya Naomi

  Adriano whispers into my ear, “Serena heard you come.”

  I merely smile since I can’t bring myself to speak as his hands languidly trail a path over my sensitive skin. And he bites my ear while I’m dripping on him.

  “You should really throw out this chair,” I mumble with my eyes closed.

  I feel his lips curving as he drops a kiss on my shoulder. “Yeah.”

  Opening my eyes, I regain enough strength to get up and get moving. “We should dress.”

  “Yes, I have an appointment. And I have to take Serena downstairs because I can’t leave her in the security room.”

  “I’m going to get a Halloween costume with Fallon, and then I’m off to the hairdresser. Am I meeting you here tonight?”

  “No. Wait for me at home. I’ll change there, and we’ll ride back here and walk the red carpet together.”

  “I’d like that.” I turn my head to the side and brush the tips of our noses together. “I’ll always be waiting for you at home, you know.”

  “And I’ll always come home to you, you know. Let’s promise to never go to bed fighting again. I fucking hated what that did to me,” he confesses in an agonized tone.

  And we seal our promise with a kiss. I believe that due to the power of our love, we won’t break our promise. The strength of our love will always keep us together.

  CHAPTER 16

  Adriano

  Calmness and determination that left my system while Cam and I were at odds returns now that she’s enfolded in my embrace, naked, with my mark in and on her.

  Cam stands, and I take a pack of tissues from the drawer. With gentle efficiency, I clean her and help her dress because I can’t take my hands off her. And then I hurriedly shrug on my slacks.

  “Wait, Cam.” I stop her as she tucks her arm into her coat, checking and pocketing her gun in an unintentionally sexy move. “What’s your costume?”

  “I don’t know yet. Do we need to match?” she asks with anticipation.

  “No,” I shoot that down. “I can’t wear a costume that might make me unrecognizable. It’ll be too dangerous in case there’s any trouble. None of the guards will be in costume either. Only the dancers and the waiters.”

  “You can go as a mafia boss. I’ll get you a hat or something,” she teases as I kiss her goodbye.

  “Very funny.” I pinch her luscious ass. “I’ll see you later. Be careful.”

  “I will. And you can always call your guard if you can’t reach me,” she retorts as a jibe as she struts out.

  I brush a hand through my hair, smiling and at ease again because she’s back to bantering with me instead of fighting me.

  I focus back on work so that I can give my full attention to making amends with Cam tonight. This was just a preview of what I have in store for her once we’re home alone, in our bed together, which is my safe place. My safe haven. And to keep my safe place secure, I’ll need to start speeding up several projects. First, Serena and then, Santino.

  Jerking open the door to the security room, I command Serena to get up, “Move.”

  Struggling with her hands cuffed at her back, she scrambles up and I free her wrists, which she rubs to work out the soreness.

  In a hurry, I grab my gun and press it into her side. “We’re going downstairs.”

  “No.” She digs her heels in. “Adriano, we must talk.”

  “You lost your chance to talk when you kissed me.” I force her forward and through the closed club toward the underground floor while trailing right behind her.

  Once we’re downstairs, I take her to the hallway that holds five cells, jostling her inside the cell next to Santino’s while she begs, “What’s your plan? I have a business. People will know I’m missing. My girls will know.”

  “Do you think I care? I might be persuaded to let you go if I knew what your plan was.”

  “Oh my fucking god, nothing! There is no plan! I simply made a huge error in judgment thinking you were also into me again. I-I never forgot you.”

  “What the hell? You dumped me. But that’s ancient history.”

  “Well, not for me.” She’s playing the damsel in distress.

  “What did you expect to happen?” I ask incredulously.

  “For you to kiss me back, but obviously, you’re in love with her.”

  “Obviously, yes. And you tried to come between her and me. I don’t tolerate that.”

  Jealousy shoots to the surface. “It’s all about her, isn’t it? What does she have that I don’t?”

  “My heart, Serena. She has my heart,” I state with certainty.

  “I should’ve never left you,” Serena utters.

  “You would’ve lost me anyway when I met Cam. I will always choose her over anyone else. And I will end anyone who’s a potential threat to her or us.”

  Her eyes widen, and she grasps that her life is hanging in the balance. “The plan was to hope that you’d fall in love with me so that we could build an empire together.”

  “Why kiss me today, out of the blue, though?”

  “Because I’m still attracted to you.”

  This is going off topic, because something tells me she’s putting on an act. Deciding to discuss Serena with James and Luca later, I stash my gun into my back waistband and stride out into the hallway as she yells and bangs on the door. Serena’s timing has me worried, so I amp up security for tonight’s Halloween party.

  CHAPTER 17

  Camilla

  In a sleek limousine, I sit with my hand entwined with Adriano’s while he’s talking on the phone with Luca to make sure we arrive at the same time as Luca and Fallon. His thumb makes slow swirls over my hand as I think about the burden that’s been lifted from my shoulders since this morning. The last few weeks have been trying for us, but now, nothing stands in the way of my happiness with Adriano. I’d already gathered that our lives would never be simple, and I’ve never been the type of girl to aspire to the dream of two-point-five kids and a house with a white picket fence. I’d rather walk on the wild side with Adriano, who I know will never question my motives again. Adriano isn’t the type of man to make the same mistake twice.

  The day has passed in a blur of activity, and the deep emotions he’s revived in me define my mood, so now that we’ve made up, I’m feeling much lighter than I’ve felt in days. We’ve easily reverted back to our usual routine, which is comforting, like everything turned out the way it’s supposed to be.

  As a result, I’m looking forward to this party. Adriano’s dashing in his white gangster attire with suspenders that’s completed with a hat that I purchased for him. And I’m wearing a tight-fitting Catwoman outfit with bared arms and a zipper down to my stomach, which has a dipping cleavage and a belt that’s so tight it gives me an hourglass figure, perfected with high-heeled black boots and a leather whip. As a finishing touch, I painted my nails and lips in a dark purple color and have smoky, black cat eyes.

  Adjusting my cat ears on top of my head, I notice Adriano fishing his pack of cigarettes from his pocket and taking one out between his teeth. I get his lighter and flick it open, holding the flame to the end of his cig.

  “I need five more minutes with my girl,” Adriano speaks into the phone, and we stop before we round the corner to the front entrance of Club 7 as the sexually charged energy that’s persistently around us flares up.

  Whether it’s the vast expanse of the club or the smaller space of a vehicle, our connection is always palpable. Permanent. Indestructible.

  He casts his phone aside and presses the button to open the window slightly as the smoke floats up from his nostrils. “You look entirely too sexy for me to keep my hands off you.” Calmly, he places his cig in the ashtray on the armrest.

  “Does my costume look familiar?”

  Recognition flashes across his eyes, then desire burns deep. “Your outfit from the raid.”

  He indeed bought a similar outfit, which was a suit that resembled a catwoman costume, for my first assignmen
t.

  Adriano moves smoothly, snuggling my cleavage, and I throw off his hat, sifting my fingers into his thick hair as he slides down the zipper. Then he exposes my breasts and sucks my nipple, but he groans when the zipper’s reached its end and he attempts to glide his hand inside, but the uniform is too close-fitting.

  “I can’t get to your pussy,” he grumbles, and I laugh.

  “And I’m naked underneath,” I tease, and he makes a throaty noise.

  “You’re naked? I want to drive my cock inside you so badly. Fuck, Cam. I’m going to walk around with a perpetual hard-on.”

  “It took me ten minutes to get into this suit. I’m not taking it off,” I declare.

  He leans back, cocking his head, and his mouth pulls up into a lopsided grin. “But...” he prompts.

  I can’t deny his magnetic charisma, especially when confronted with the blatant bulge in his pants. “But I can take care of you.”

  I slither to my knees, situate myself between his legs, and rub his balls while unbuttoning his pants, taking him into my mouth. Both of his hands tangle in my hair as he guides my head, his movements controlled, yet wild. Only I get to see this side of him. I suck Adriano fast and hard, my bare breasts brushing against his thighs as I work him in and out while he watches me intently.

  “Oh, fuck.” His eyes fall closed, and he grimaces in pleasure.

  When I cup him, my fingernails lightly raking his balls, he growls, giving me all of him.

  “Swallow, Cam,” Adriano orders while locking eyes with me as he drives himself into my mouth, bucking his hips and spilling himself entirely. “God, I’ve missed your mouth.”

  I comply eagerly and rest my head on his thigh as he strokes my hair, breathing unevenly. After a few silent seconds, I carefully tuck him back in as he pinches my nipples before he zips me back up, and he tells the driver to continue toward the entrance of Club 7.

  The door is being opened just as Adriano takes his cig and gets out. He offers me his hand, and I follow him after grabbing my whip.

  Apparently, some movie stars arrived before us, so the journalists are pumped, and I’m bombarded with camera flashes and dozens of voices. It’s so cold without my coat, and my cat ears almost fly off from a blast of wind, but Adriano notices it and wraps his arm around me as he strolls forward to Fallon and Luca, who’s wearing a tailored dark blue suit with vest and jacket.

  The club has been transformed into a haunted castle. The black carpet is freakishly decked with fake blood and lit pumpkins hanging in the air between plastic spiders and bats. Rubber bones and body parts are scattered over the carpet, and the entrance door is decorated with a gigantic grayish skull with eyes that shoot red laser beams.

  I greet Fallon, who jerks her chin to Adriano. “Couldn’t get him into a proper costume either?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Forget them. At least you look awesome, Cleopatra.”

  Meanwhile, reporters yell to Luca and Adriano, and they take photos together and start answering questions. Luca and Adriano make public appearances at their own events and some events of other influential businessmen. This is how they uphold their image of being two successful entrepreneurs while orchestrating everything from behind the scenes by paying off media and law enforcement. Some of the most powerful journalists, detectives, lawyers, judges, and politicians in Chicago are associates of the Syndicate who get free drugs and the most beautiful women at their disposal for their indiscretions in the underground sex club that’s only accessible to the elite. And with this party, Luca and Adriano are working with several charities to raise awareness and money so that they appear to be philanthropists.

  “Here’s the entrepreneurial bad boy, Adriano Montesi, one of Chicago’s last most eligible Italian bachelors, since his partner, Luca DeMiliano, was snatched off the market this year. Mr. Montesi, congratulations on the ongoing success of Club 7. Tickets were sold out within one night. What makes this club the most popular establishment in town?” A journalist thrusts her mic into his face and smiles seductively.

  “You should ask the attendees that,” he retorts arrogantly but says it with that undeniable magnetism that’s obviously melting her panties while she giggles.

  I roll my eyes as Adriano glances back at me.

  “And by the way, I’m not a bachelor anymore.” He angles his body to me and invites me forward.

  “Your date?” the journalist probes.

  “Yes.” A million flashes go off at once when he captures my mouth in a searing kiss. “My girlfriend.”

  “Who is she? Where did you meet? Is it serious?” All of this is fired at us, but the publicist takes over and tells us to move along, and then she instructs the journalists that they can each only ask one question to Adriano and Luca.

  “Why do you always smoke on the red carpet?” I wonder out loud, but Adriano hears it.

  “Makes me feel calm.”

  “You’re nervous?”

  “I don’t always like these public events, but we must attend. And remember that you should always hide your true emotions in public, Cam.”

  I frown at him. “Then why are you looking at me like you want to eat my pussy?”

  He coughs, choking on his smoke before he flicks the butt away to the side. “Woman, it gets me hard in one-point-three seconds when you say pussy.”

  “Please move forward,” someone yells.

  “So, everyone can know about us now?” I whisper to Adriano.

  “The underworld already knows. It’s a tenacious rumor that you’re my wife. The public world doesn’t matter. Now that the underworld knows, people will learn how far I’d go to keep you.” His voice is adamant.

  “I love you,” is all I can get out when he’s being sweetly possessive.

  “Ti amo. Go have fun with Fallon. I’ll catch up with you. Guards are watching you two, just so you know.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” I kiss him on the mouth and meet up with Fallon.

  Because it’s too much fun yielding this whip, I spank her from behind, and she shrieks, rubbing her bottom.

  “You bitch! That hurt,” she accuses around a laugh.

  We walk through the door that’s veiled in smoke and step into the horror dance club. The place is filled with special effects, cobwebs, and pumpkins while ghosts, zombies, vampires, and tons of movie characters mill around. The second floor is the VIP area where the movie stars, singers, and other celebrities are escorted to, but Fallon and I want to stay on the first floor.

  After snatching a pumpkin spice cocktail from a waitress’s tray, Fallon and I careen through the crowd to Rosalia.

  “Did you ditch your father the second you came in, vampire?” I ask after pushing the cocktail into her hand. “You look hot.”

  She flashes her pointy teeth from beneath her painted red lips, and I can tell that she’s already tipsy; she had a party with friends before she came here. “I’ve been waiting for you.” But Rosalia’s surveying the room as Fallon follows her gaze to Wade, and a crease forms between Fallon’s brows, so mine shoots to Wade too.

  Then all of us stare at him with our mouths hanging open as he closes the distance between us. Wade’s a bronze god in a gladiator outfit with all bare skin and hard, shiny muscles, and his dirty blond hair in a flawless mess, like he’s just woken up.

  Rosalia gulps down her cocktail as he grins at her first. “Close your mouths, ladies. You two”—he glances from me to Fallon—“are taken.” And he confiscates the glass from Rosalia. “Why are you always intoxicated when I see you, Rosa?”

  “Why are you always the Grinch when I see you, Wade?” she counters.

  “What I just said; because you’re always intoxicated.”

  “Who are you? My father?”

  My head whips back and forth between them, but then Wade’s interrupted by a woman who obviously knows him as she places her hand on his abs and purrs something into his ear. He forgets us completely and saunters away with her.

  “Luca had a fl
ing with her once,” Fallon mutters, indicating the beauty now hanging on Wade’s arm.

  “Oh, she’s pretty. Do you hate her?”

  “No, I’m not as jealous as Luca, Adriano, and you. I’m the demure one of this group.”

  “True...”

  “I’m the voice of reason,” she adds playfully.

  I laugh, throwing my head back. “Don’t push it.”

  Then we direct our attention back to Rosalia, asking in unison, “What was that?”

  She pretends as if nothing happened. “Urgh! He’s always treating me like a kid.”

  Fallon blurts, “Do you like Wade, Rosalia? Because that would be a bad idea.”

  “A very bad idea,” I echo.

  “Why?” she asks instead of denying, which worries me.

  “Because he’s not a man to become emotionally involved with,” Fallon warns, pointing at the numerous women gawking at him. “Case in point.”

  “Has anything happened between you two?” I want to know.

  “No,” she replies dejectedly.

  “He’s always with a different woman when I see him. Always,” Fallon emphasizes.

  “And he’s a huge flirt,” I add.

  “So was Adriano,” Rosalia says to me.

  “No,” Fallon cuts in, waving her hands. “Wade’s man-whoring is on a whole other level than what Adriano did. Trust me, Wade’s always with a different woman. I don’t even think he knows the names of the women he sleeps with. He’s handsome, and he kind of knows it, Rosalia.”

  She purses her lips in defeat. “I know, I know. It’s just an infatuation.”

  I shake my head slowly at her.

  “I’m going to the ladies room,” Rosalia remarks and flees before we really start to interrogate her.

  “This isn’t just an infatuation,” I tell Fallon with a foreboding undertone. “They remind me of Adriano and me when we first met.”