This is all she’d ever be… the daughter of a Mafia giant. Her heart shrunk to the size of an olive. She blinked back the tears, remembering how her mother had suffered because of her father’s illegal occupation. Too many times had she found her mother wiping away tears after eavesdropping on conversations about her father’s ruthless business opponents or a spiteful enemies.
Now she was of age and had a plan, she couldn’t let the dozens of jewelry stores around the country—named after her mother— bleed into her father’s shady shenanigans.
She turned around and leaned against the countertop, arms folded like her own reflection upset her.
“Clarissa?” Beck called her softly.
She raised her gaze to him, and found him leaning against the thresh hold. He offered her a close-lipped smile. “What?”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged, arms falling to her sides. “Why? It’s true. I didn’t choose my father, and he is a criminal. Why would you not rub that in my face after I used you for my own dirty scheme?”
He let out a sigh, and walked up to her a step or two. “I’m mad at the situation. I don’t like to be fooled, ever. I do understand your motivations. I don’t agree with you, I don’t trust you, but I sure as hell can’t judge you.”
“So you’re open to staying married then? For a little while?”
“Six months. That should be enough for you to show your father you can manage his businesses and I’ll do the same.”
“Thank you,” she said, and relief washed over her. She erased the distance between them and hugged him before he had a chance of denying her. She plastered herself against his extra large, tone physique, and linked her arms around his head.
It was supposed to be an embrace of gratitude.
He stiffened at first, probably surprised at her gesture. Then, his arms enclosed her, and she sighed into his body. The previous night, they’d made out in the elevator, his touch seared her and his tongue teased her. Sadly, she’d been drunk, and didn’t take as much advantage of the mini-hookup session as she should.
Now…
She felt his heart thrumming against her ear. Swallowing, she pondered. Did he want her as much as she did him? During her reclusive life at her aunt’s, she hadn’t had any steady boyfriends—but she did manage to sneak out of the house and date a few boys from her church. She’d made out with them, but none of them had wanted the responsibility of taking her virginity. After all, they knew who her father was.
Beck’s cock poked her, the encouragement she needed. He wants me.
He didn’t trust her or agreed to her reasons… but he understood her, or claimed to, and that meant more than anything. Besides, he wanted her. She stood on her tiptoes, and pulled his head down so her lips brushed his.
A low, deep groan filled the air. She shoved her fingers into his silky set of hair, and opened her mouth to him. Beck didn’t wince. He plunged his tongue inside her, and she reveled in that sexy caress. Their tongues caressed, played, stroked each other passionately. A hot throb formed in her pussy, quickly spreading through her body as a phenomenal awareness prickled all her senses.
He growled, and the sexy sound caused another shot of arousal to pump into her veins. “Clarissa,” he said gravely, lifting her from the floor and placing her on the countertop. The coolness of the marble contrasted against the heat claiming her flesh. She wrapped her legs around his torso, not willing to be away from him for even a moment.
Had they been this hot for each other the previous night?
She touched his chest, her hands hovering over his muscly pecs. He pulled her closer, and his erection rubbed against her hot pussy. Her underwear and the fabric of his slacks didn’t contain the energy pulling them toward each other. She squirmed, having never experienced such crazy, reckless need in her life.
He pulled down her dress, and her breasts spilled free, bouncy, ripe. They’d never felt so full and her nipples so tight. He dipped his head lower and she leaned on the mirror, turning her head sideways to give him complete access. Soon, Beck was licking her neck all the way down her tit.
God. Desire roared inside her, her heavy breathing fogging the mirror.
“Beck. Oh, yes. So good.”
He cupped one breast with one hand, while licking the other.
Shivers rolled down her spine, and she arched toward him until he captured her nipple into his mouth. “This is… oh…”
He groaned against her chest. “What is it? Talk to me, baby.”
Baby. The overused endearment quickened her pulse—because he’d said it. Beck. The hottest guy she’d ever seen, the one who was opening the door to a world of pleasures she’d never visited. A world she expected to fully explore with him.
He nipped her sensitive flesh, and she moaned. Loudly.
Her pearly essence soaked her underwear, her clit throbbing wildly. “Touch me, Beck. Make me yours,” she said, knowing fully well she would be his temporarily. Damn it though, she’d make it count.
He sucked her other breast, as he slid his hand down between her legs. He slipped one finger into her underwear, and she bucked into his palm. “You’re so wet, Clarissa. Nice and tight for me. Relax your legs, baby. Let me feel you.”
How could she relax when her thighs trembled, anticipation and excitement sending out little thrills through her? She pulled up his head and brought him closer, capturing his lips with hers in a passionate kiss. He slid another finger into her panties, and now they moved, playing with her slick folds, adding the thumb to tease her clit.
She hissed out. She’d touched herself before, obviously, and a date once copped a feel over her jeans. Nothing compared to his deft fingers caressing her, stroking her, driving her crazy for more.
He intensified the kiss, his tongue ruthlessly exploring her mouth. She squeezed his broad shoulders, loving the feel of his tone, hard body. Then, he made invisible circles on her clit, the pressure just right, flicking it with his thumb. Currents of pleasure formed in her core and soon, a huge wave of bliss washed over her. She quivered. The climax claimed her completely, deliciously, and possessively.
Sweat slicked over her face, arms and legs.
He peppered kisses on her cheeks, nose and finally, he kissed her mouth again. Oh, the sensation of his tongue ravishing hers, his teeth grazing her lower lip until they released it with a sexy ‘pop’. Her heart thrummed against her ribcage.
She reached for his pants, eager to unzip him and hold his hard cock in her hand. Maybe she didn’t have the finesse and experience most of his lovers possessed; but she’d make up for it with enthusiasm. Oh, yes. She’d show Beck whether their marriage was real or not, they both agreed on one thing: the hot lovemaking they were about to share was anything but fake.
3
Beck drew in a breath. Sure, from the beginning he knew Clarissa was attractive, but now a primal need pulled him to her like he had no saying in the matter. Damn it.
She undid his zipper, and he pulled his boxers and pants down his knee. She slid off the counter top and touched him, her warm palm rubbing his pulsating dick. “Wow,” she said.
He bit back a smile. He always enjoyed that type of reaction, but the blend of surprise and hunger in her hazel eyes only made his cock grow bigger. She kneeled in front of him, and regarded his cock with a fascination he found endearing.
“You like what you see?” And touch?
She stared up at him, and a shade of red colored her cheeks. “Yes, though I have no idea how this will fit inside me.”
He grinned. “Let’s start with your mouth… we’ll deal with your tight, virgin pussy later.”
She licked him, the tip of her tongue searing his underside veins, which were about to pop. God… She tentatively swirled her tongue up and down his rod, and he threw his head back, too aroused to keep focus. If he kept looking at her eyes, at her bow shaped lips ravishing him like he were some sort of ancient god, he’d come in her mouth.
She brought it insid
e her mouth, and when he experienced that hot warmth, he groaned. She didn’t fit all of him, but that was expected.
“Touch me while you suck me,” he said.
She palmed him and soon, her hand and mouth worked in tandem, going in the same direction. Upward and down. His gut clenched, and he curled his fingers into a ball. Control would slip away soon, if he didn’t do anything.
“Clarissa.” Her name fled from his mouth.
“Yeah? This is fun,” she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Do you feel anything when I do this?” She cupped his balls.
Precum bubbled at the tip of his cock. Did he! Beck growled. Despite her virgin status, Clarissa was no innocent. She’d manipulated him into a marriage he most certainly didn’t want. He should take her virginity out of spite… yet it’d happen out of a maddening desire that wiped out any rationality.
Sex would only make their already complicated situation, disastrous. His balls felt tight and achy in her hand. He had to wrestle to keep upright, a weakness behind his knees threatening to take him down. Weakness for her.
“I enjoy doing this,” she said, lapping her pink tongue at the tip of his cock. “You taste good. Different than what I expected.”
A crazy rush of blood fled to his cock. “Get up, otherwise there’s a lot more of me for you to taste soon.”
She winked at him. “I don’t mind.”
She didn’t mind? “You’re trouble, Clarissa Garubo. And I usually don’t fuck with trouble… but I sure want to fuck you until you pass out on my cock.”
He lifted her to the countertop again. A wicked part of him reveled in the image of her swallowing his seed, tasting his cum with the same eagerness she sucked him off. Then again, he had to bury himself inside her, to stretch her walls, to pump into her.
Then, it dawned on him. “I don’t have any condoms with me,” he said, cursing in a low voice. Shit. He didn’t carry condoms regularly, unless he went on a date or to a nightclub. The trip to Vegas was supposed to be work only, so he hadn’t considered bringing protection. Ah, the irony.
She nodded, disappointment softening her features. “Really?”
He sighed. “Really. Unless I go buy some downstairs.”
Clarissa smiled. “Yes. Please.”
He put his achy, still-hard rod in his pants. “Are you sure about this? Having sex with me? You don’t have to do anything just because you think I’m mad.”
“I want you, Beck. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. My pussy is pulsing… my breasts are throbbing…”
He snatched her into his arms, and their mouths molded together. She wrapped herself around him again, and he had to use every ounce of determination not to slam into her sweet cunt right and there, without any protection. When he managed to disengage from her, they both breathed heavily, his heart pounded every beat. “I’ll go get the condoms.”
The elevator door opened with a bing, and Beck exited into the lobby. A swarm of people crossed his path, a bunch of high-rolling tourists discussing what show to watch. The only show Beck hoped to watch entailed a very naked Clarissa and him, in a large bed.
Excitement moved through him, and he amped his pace. When had it been the last time he’d wanted to make love with this much urgency? He’d dated a very special woman—a gifted lawyer named Nancy— for two years. He’d entertained the idea of marrying her, but something inside pulled him back. He wasn’t ready to commit unless he knew for sure it’d be permanent. He never wished to have multiple marriages, like his father.
Oh, the irony…
Right now, he focused on screwing her. Sure, in the long run intimacy with Clarissa could lead him into trouble. For the time being, he needed the distraction to forget about how much like his father he’d really become—enough to agree to a superficial marriage only to benefit his career.
Across the large lobby, he saw the convenience store. Yes. He’d buy the condoms and to the hell with self-doubt and problems. Why not take advantage of his newly acquired husband duties?
“Beck,” said a male voice behind him. Beck balked, recognizing Garubo’s raspy baritone even before he turned around and faced him.
“Yes,” he said.
The two bodyguards walked behind Garubo. Beck imagined those two cage fighters in suits had seen a lot.
“I wanted to talk to you alone. Let’s go grab a drink,” Garubo said, gesturing to the swanky bar to the right.
“I’d love to, but Clarissa is waiting for me. ,” Beck said, I have to go back upstairs and screw your daughter silly. He motioned to keep on walking, but Garubo pat his back and angled closer.
“This will be quick. I just need to talk to my new son-in-law, and didn’t want to do so in front of Clarissa.”
“Sure. Just a drink,” Beck said.
Just a drink.
He didn’t want to have a heart-to-heart with Garubo, but couldn’t brush him off easily. At the same time, he still coveted his account to nail the partnership deal, Beck didn’t want to know anything about Garubo’s other businesses. The less he knew about those, the better.
They sat on a corner booth, on a side away from most people. Garubo had quickly surpassed the folks waiting to enter. A quick chat with the hostess and his VIP seating arrangement had materialized. Did they admire or fear him? Probably, a bit of both.
After they ordered their drinks, Garubo made a hand gesture, and his bodyguards waited at the entrance.
“I have to say today went much differently than what I had expected,” Garubo started.
You and me both. “I understand,” Beck said. He toyed with the idea of calling their suite to tell Clarissa he was chatting with her father, but he didn’t want to worry her. What if she decided to join them? Best to get this awkward drink over with.
“You know… Clarissa looks a lot like her mother. So much so, that after Bianca’s death I had a hard time looking at her.”
Garubo frowned, and then smoothed his hand on his slick dark hair. Too dark for his age, without a trace of grey.
“Because my wife meant a lot to me,” Garubo said, angling closer.
Beck gave him a slow nod. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t take marriage lightly, Beck. I never did and never will. People get hitched then they give up on each other after the first hiccup,” Garubo said, his eyes remote like he talked about an event much closer to him than just a vague comment.
“Unfortunately, it doesn’t always work out.”
Garubo nodded. “I know your father divorced four times. I had my team research you when I suggested you drive my daughter to Vegas,” he said, mentioning their chat the previous week, when Beck had attempted to bring his business to his firm. That meeting had certainly gone different than Beck had imagined—Garubo received a phone call from his daughter, and asked Beck if he’d fly to NY to drive her back because she hated flying.
“I’m not proud of my father’s mistakes,” he said truthfully. Beck touched his neck, even though he wore an open collar shirt. Garubo’s probe made him uncomfortable, but he didn’t back down. “I’m not my father,” he said with the confidence of a person who believed it.
Garubo smiled. “Good,” he said, then the smile disappeared. “Because if you hurt my daughter in any way, you’re finito.”
Finito. Got it. “Mr. Garubo, with all due respect— he said, adamant on telling him he accepted no threats.
“Hello.” The busty waitress returned with their drinks, alleviating some of the tension between them.
Beck lifted his tumbler to his mouth, and savored the smoky scotch rolling down his throat. “Mr. Garubo, I know this is all a surprise to you, and I appreciate your support. But I won’t deal with threats. I’ve married your daughter and I intend on making her happy. She’s the one who’ll judge my efforts. Not you,” he said evenly.
Garubo stared at him squared in the eye. “Fair enough. I also know you might make partner in your firm if you get my account.”
“Honestly, sir,
you knew from the beginning this could be a possibility—wasn’t it why you asked me personally to drive your daughter to Vegas? To make up your mind?”
“Of course.” Garubo sat back on his chair, taking his glass with him. “I have to trust someone to represent my affairs—especially my legal affairs. The businesses your firm would represent come from my wife’s side of the family. And I swore to her I’d always keep those according to the law.”
“A remarkable decision.”
“Which is why before I give you my business, I’m willing to trust you with something much more valuable that shows how much your being a new family member means… a family secret.”
4
Clarissa rubbed her eyes, then opened them. She yawned, glancing around the bedroom.
She expected to find Beck’s large frame next to her, but she was alone in bed. The alarm clock on the nightstand read ten o’clock. Did he change his mind about the whole thing and just leave? Her heart sank.
She’d waited for his return until after midnight. She’d called him a couple of times, but he hadn’t picked it up or texted. He left me. She wouldn’t know what it was like to have sex with him—they’d come so close. She should have mentioned she was on a birth control pill to help fix her period instabilities. Beck was a worldly guy, and probably felt safer if he was in charge of birth control. Perhaps he wouldn’t even believe she was on it, too—especially after her goading him into the marriage.
“Morning,” he said in a deep, sexy voice.
She turned her head to face him carrying a breakfast tray, filled with pastries, juices and more. Fully clothed and with his hair wet. Her heart did an impossible flip in her chest.
Don’t get any ideas. This marriage is just a practicality. Though there was nothing practical about how her body reacted to him. Now she understood what he meant about sex making things more complicated… yet it was too late to go back.
Married. Wait! What? Page 37
