by Ivy Stone
I didn’t know when it happened, when coming here became as much about her as it was for the job, my goal—the end game. But there’s something about her. Familiar but strange. Dangerous and sweet. I just can’t put my finger on it. But I’m getting closer to the prize every day.
Giuseppe Marino.
I can’t let a girl get in the way now. Not now I’ve finally pushed Mason into pursuing the Marino crime family on a more serious level. We might actually have a chance at bringing them down soon.
Warmth rubs against my arm, but I’m too caught up in the beauty on stage with her big pink lips I’ve been imagining around my dick and her long hair I want to twist in my hand while I bend her over and fuck her from behind. It isn’t until a husky female voice whispers in my ear that I turn to see one of the topless waitresses with her obvious fake tits against my arm. “Want another round, sugar?”
I pull away from her and shift in my seat. Without another glance in her direction, I reply, “No thanks.”
If it were any other day or time when I wasn’t so distracted, I would have taken her up on the drink and chugged it down while she sucked me off on her break.
But right now, I don’t need another drink and the little brunette’s set must be just about finished. I don’t plan to stick around. Last night was supposed to be the last visit to this dump. Tonight I was here for one reason, and it wasn’t because Mason wanted background on the younger Marino moron.
Seductive music echoes through the club, drowning out the men shouting sleazy comments to the dancer on stage that I’d rather not hear. My fingers tighten around my glass as I hold in the urge to shove my fist into every one of the dirty fucks’ faces. The stage fades to black along with the end of the song and the woman makes her way off stage. I stand from my seat and swallow the last of my drink because tonight I’m done. I’m all out patience and horny as fuck. I’m ready for her. I’m done playing games. Tonight she’ll be mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
The coolness of winter in the city whisks across the back of my neck. I pull my jacket up as I lean against the brick wall a few feet up from the club. Voices travel from the entry of Sweet Tarts and I turn to see two men stumble out with one of the dancers on their arms. I check my watch again, wondering where she is. The girl’s like clockwork, I’ve watched her. The moment she finishes work she’s out of the place quicker than I can sling back another drink. It’s not lost on me how borderline stalking that sounds. But this is recon—work. She’s employed by the Marino’s. It counts.
“Thanks, Kev,” murmurs a soft voice and my head shoots up to see one of the bouncers smiling at a girl leaving the club. My chest expands with excitement when I recognize her long bare legs. She walks my way, but the small smile that’s been on her face drops and sadness creeps over her.
I push off the wall and stand up straighter while taking her in from heels up. Her ass is barely covered by the black coat hiding everything I’ve already seen underneath. Her hair falls around her waist, and when my eyes rise over the swell of her tits I see her arching an eyebrow at me.
Crossing her arms across her chest, she stops in front of me and pops her hip out. “Can I help you?”
I smirk as a million dirty thoughts about just how she can help me run through my mind. “I’m hoping so.”
Without giving her time to answer I move forward, so close to her I hear the gasp that leaves her lips and too close to decipher if it’s the good kind or bad.
“What do you want?” she asks, staring up at me through curious eyes.
I brush away the hair falling in front of her eyes. The whole time taking in every inch of her face. Her soft pale skin, the curve of her cheekbones, her small plump lips.
“I want a lot of things, gorgeous. But right now I’ll happily settle with you.”
Her brows bunch together and she stares at me for a moment, doing to me what I was doing to her a moment ago. Until she steps back and shakes her head. “Sorry. But you can’t have me.”
It’s my turn to ask the questions, even if I do already know the answers. “Why? Because you’re Marino’s girl?”
I know she is. I’ve watched him watch her when she’s on stage or giving a lap dance. I see how differently he treated her to the other girls. She’s something else to him, I just don’t know whether that constitutes this as a bad idea or the worst fuckin’ one I’ve ever had. It’s likely to be the latter.
Her lips flatten into a hard line. “I’m not his girl.”
I smirk and close in on her. That’s a lie and we both know it.
She leans back against the wall as I invade her space. Her skin flushes and legs slightly part. My cock throbs as I watch her swallow while balling my hands into fists at my side to stop myself from reaching out to touch her uninvited. “Let’s cut the bullshit and get straight to the point, shall we? You’ve been eye fuckin’ the shit out of me up on that stage every night for the past few weeks. You want me just as much as I want you. You’re Marino’s girl and that’s fine. I’m not looking for more than a quick fuck anyway. From the moment I walked in here and you bounced those perfect tits in my face and your ass over my cock, I’ve been dying for a taste of that sweet pussy you flash around up on that stage. You don’t want it… that’s fine. Just say the word. But after tonight I won’t be back, and I’m not sticking around long enough for Marino to come out here and shoot me for even talking to you without throwing some cash in his face first. So you better make up your mind real quick, babe.”
I can’t come back. Not after tonight. I have all the intel I’m ever going to get to take back to the squad, and I want this girl more than I’m comfortable admitting. I can recognize a distraction when I see one. And her? A big distraction for my cock.
“Well, you’re right about one thing,” she replies.
I glance around uninterested before turning back to her. “Yeah, and what’s that?”
“You shouldn’t be in that club.”
The air between us electrifies. Her eyes drop to my lips and within a second her hands are pulling at my hair. Our mouths crashing together in a pursuit of pleasure. I lift her up and my hips push her against the wall. She moans and rolls her hips, rubbing herself on my already rock solid dick. My hands slip up under her coat and desire pools in my balls as I finger the edge of her lace panties. Her hands run down my chest and clutch my shirt before heading further south. I growl as her hands try to thrust my ass forward. She wants more? Well, so do I. I want to rip her clothes off, pull my cock out and shove it down her lovely little delicate throat. But I can’t.
I pull back, setting her feet on the ground and blow out a breath as my heart still races with adrenaline and desire. I want her, but I don’t plan on dying tonight. Not over forbidden pussy.
I lean my head to hers and murmur through heavy breaths. “Not here.”
She nods. “Your place?”
I grin. “Thought you’d never ask.”
Standing back, I grab her hand and chin lifting toward the other direction. “Car’s that way.”
She didn’t have to ask me twice.
My back smacks against the hard wall as our hands become a tangled mess. Roamyn pulls his lips from mine while pushing open the door beside us to what I assume is his apartment.
“Shit. Are you okay?”
The dull ache from hitting the wall barely registers through my lust filled daze. All I can see is him. All I can feel is the heat of his touch on my skin.
“I’m fine,” I mumble, before nuzzling into his neck. I glide my hands down his stomach as my fingers itch for more. The thin material of his tee sets my imagination on fire as I run my fingertips over the outline of his abs. Bump after bump. Hardness upon hardness. God, he’s gorgeous. I nip at his neck and kiss across his shoulders as he walks us backward inside. He groans and it inspires my confidence. I nip his chest, up his throat and nibble at his ear while my hands explore the rigid muscles in his back. Heat warms my cheeks as Roamyn caresses my face, bringi
ng it back in line with his. He dips his head and kisses me hard sucking on my tongue. Pleasure rocks me. My eyelids shut involuntarily and I become lost in the kiss. In this moment with a man I thought I’d never see again.
The first time I saw him in the club, my heart leaped out of my chest and I squinted through the drug induced blur before my eyes and in my head. The hit I’d had not long before walking onto the stage had to have caused hallucinations. Because he couldn’t have been there as large as life sitting at a table in front of the stage, with his hungry eyes wandering over my body as if I were just another woman and not the girl he saved four years ago. His gaze roamed over my body dozens of times. Night after night, I waited for it to happen. For realization to hit every time I saw a gleam in his eye and an unreadable expression cross his face, but nothing.
His hands tighten around my ass and my back falls into the softness of pillows as he lowers us to a bed, our lips never breaking contact. All breath leaves me. This. Now. His calloused fingers trailing down my thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The gravelly undertone of lust breaking through every moan. I’m indebted to his bad memory because this, is something else entirely. An intensity for, more. A pleasure I never believed possible. It nearly feels as good as a high. Nearly, but not quite. Nothing feels like that.
His scent suffocates me. A tingle runs down my spine. I arch my back, my body happy to drown in an ocean of Roamyn. Shifting back to just off the bed Roamyn’s arm flexes back as he rips his shirt over his head. He flings it across the room and shoves his pants down to his feet. My eyes travel down with his pants until his cock springs free and steals my attention. An ache builds between my legs and I squeeze my thighs together without taking my eyes off of him. Glistening with pre-cum, angry and hard, long and thick, Roamyn fists his cock and pumps it torturously slow.
“Babe. My eyes are up here.” He chuckles and I look away. My cheeks warm with embarrassment at being caught. This is the first time I’ve looked at a man naked and felt a tingle in my core and wetness in my panties. It’s foreign. Confusing. I smile up at him. For the first time in a year, I don’t hate a man’s touch. I crave it. I crave it because with him, it feels so good. I know I should hate it after everything I’ve been through. I don’t really know him. It’s dangerous, I’m reckless. But these moments of feeling, they’re so preciously rare.
The muscles in his arms and stomach tense with each movement of his hand. He moves over me, letting go of his cock and trails light kisses from my wrist up my arms. My stomach clenches and my eyes roll back in my head. He lingers above me, now unmoving, the only feeling being the warmth of his body close to mine. I lift my head and look down to him. His gaze shifts from the crease in my arm where he was branding me with his lips, to my eyes and back again. Every muscle in my body stiffens. My scars. My heart rate speeds up.
Shock resonates as he flicks between my scars and my face. Roamyn’s eyes bulge and he jumps backward off the bed as if it’s on fire.
“It’s you.”
I sit up, crawling on my knees. “I can explain.”
He shakes his head and bends to the floor and when he stands back up straight, his pants are hanging dangerously low on his hips, button and zipper still undone. He runs both hands through his dark blond hair, murmuring something I can’t quite hear.
“Roamyn, please stop for a second. Will you look at me?”
His head shoots up and his eyes pierce me with pent up anger. “Look at you? I’ve been looking at you for weeks. I’ve seen way more of you than I fucking should have. Damn it, Ali. What the fuck?”
He begins pacing the room with one hand rubbing the back of his neck, and looks back and forth at me, taking me in from head to toe as if he isn’t sure it’s actually me.
I put my hands up in surrender. “I know. I’m sorry. I should have told you before now.”
Roamyn stops and faces me, the skin around his eyes bunching. “Why didn’t you?”
A lump forms in my throat. I crawl to the edge of the bed and slide off the sheets, coming to stand in front of him. His breathing is so fast and harsh the v lines in his stomach draw me in with their movement, and any decision left in me is made by the time I reach his scowl. He’s fighting it. The lust. The desire. It’s there—I’m sure of it—locked behind preconceived notions of right and wrong and his guarded heart.
I push up on my toes and curl my hands around his face.
“Because if I’d told you, you wouldn’t let me do this.”
My mouth slightly parts and I press my lips to his before he can protest. His moan fills the air as our tongues explore. He squeezes my shoulders and breaks our kiss.
“Ali, stop. We shouldn’t be doing this. You’re too young.” He sighs, leaning his forehead against mine.
Our breathing labored, bodies so close. The spark between us, flaring through me—it’s magnetic. How can he not feel it too?
Coldness wraps around my bare shoulders as Roamyn turns away from me with his hands on his hips.
Rejection.
It chips away at the remaining pieces of my heart. Tears build behind my eyelids and I drop my chin, hiding my face behind my hair.
My limbs feel heavy and when I stand back up, Roamyn flips back around. “How are you working at that strip club? You might look twenty-one in your get up,” he gestures the length of me, “but you sure as hell aren’t. I know that much.”
“I don’t work there by choice,” I mutter.
“What did you say?” Roamyn all but growls out each word.
“Nothing.” I shrug, staring down at my feet.
Warmth circles around my wrist.
“Ali, you better start talking or I’m gonna start guessing, and where that shit’s headed is nowhere fucking good.”
Roamyn’s round worried eyes weaken me down as he rubs his thumb against the inside of my wrist. Ten minutes ago his eyes were dazed over with pleasure. Now all he must see is the broken girl who let out all of her worries on a complete stranger. A girl I no longer am. Now I’m the girl I never wanted to become.
Lonely. Pathetic. Weak.
Fire heats in my veins and I pull my hand away from his grip. “Why? I’m pretty sure that’s not what you invited me back here for.”
His eyes harden to steel. A tremor rolls through me and I take a step back without thinking. I’ve seen the look in his eyes before. Just not from him.
“Why?” he yells and I flinch. “Because for four fucking years, you’ve been in my head and never far from my thoughts. I searched for you, Ali. I never stopped searching.”
I shake my head as tears begin to build. “I didn’t know.”
My arms wrap around my body, the instinct to protect myself kicking in.
“Hey.” Roam pulls me into him, my softness against his hard muscled torso. But I can’t enjoy it. The ferocity in his voice still echoes in my ears, blocking out everything else.
“Look at me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled like that.” His fingers tip my chin up so I have to look at him.
He twirls a piece of my hair in his fingers, never letting me go. “You couldn’t have known I was looking when it was impossible to actually find you. But I guess I wasn’t searching in the right places. And apparently, not for the right colored hair.”
His words sink in. The right places. He means with the Marino family. Flashes of what happened when I went back to find Roamyn flip to the forefront of my mind.
My stomach ties up in painful knots. “I colored it not long after we met actually. Maybe three months later.”
His lips curve up into a smirk and one of his dimples peeks through. “I preferred it blonde.”
I dip my head to the floor as if somehow he can read the truth in my face. The reason why I changed my hair along with every other secret of the nightmare I endured after Lucio caught me trying to find Roamyn. “Me too.”
My cheeks burn with shame. I’m glad Roamyn didn’t find me. I might not have ended my life the night he met me. He mi
ght have saved me then, but every day after, I’ve been fighting a losing battle I have no chance of winning. I’m not proud and I’m not better. I’m just surviving.
“You can’t find someone who doesn’t want to be found, Roamyn.”
His brows furrow and lines in his forehead crease. “I beg to differ. Now. Can you put the rest of your clothes on, please?”
He nods his head at my figure and I look down my body. I frown and cover my bare skin with my hands, tugging at my bra and panties. Embarrassed I’m standing here in my slutty stripper get up in front of a man worthy of so much more. My eyes dance around my costume until I notice the bulge in Roamyn’s pants. Hope rockets through me, pushing away the horrible flashes and I try to hide the smile tugging at my lips. Stripper clothes, my age and all—his body still wants me even if his head doesn’t.
“You sure that’s what you really want?” I mumble, peeking up at him through my thick mascara coated lashes.
He growls as if he’s in pain. “Nope. But you’re gonna do it anyway to save us both the grief of doing something we’ll regret later.” He bends to the floor and picks up my black coat from underneath the bed.
The comment stings.
“Here.” He passes it to me. “I’m gonna take a quick shower…” he trails off and peers down his chiseled chest as he turns around.
