Only One Night: A Fusion Universe Novel

by Dani Rene

  She hasn’t responded yet. But she hasn’t even seen the message. I decide that she’s busy. Perhaps she’s moving from her hotel to the apartment. I should have offered to help, but I thought she’d want some privacy and alone time after our tryst in her living room.

  Even though I’m working, or meant to be, I can’t get her off my mind. My focus isn’t on Mr. Johnson’s house for sale, it’s on how Elisabet looked while she was coming on my cock, on my fingers. Every whimper and mewl is engrained in my mind. And as much as I try to convince myself I’ll be able to walk away from her, I know it’s a lie.

  I click on the email from my client, scanning the contents. Opening the photos, I choose the handful that we’ll put on the website and send it off to my marketing assistant. She handles all the listings online. In email, I tell her to also remove Elisabet’s apartment from the website altogether. Normally, we leave the leases up for a while to show people those that have been purchased or rented, but I’m acting like a possessive asshole, not wanting anyone to see her home.

  Sighing, I push my chair away from the desk and head out into the foyer. It’s quieter now since all the agents are out, and I’m the only one in besides my receptionist. I make my way to the kitchen, grab a mug, and set it under the Keurig. Perhaps a mug of strong coffee will get me out of this slump.

  I feel like a teenager with a crush on the hottest girl in school, and she’s ignoring me while she’s with someone else. But I know Elisabet is alone; at least, I believe she is. Instinct tells me she’s not someone who would easily cheat or spend time with other men. I wonder if this has something to do with her past. Perhaps her secrets are more dangerous than I thought.

  I pull out my phone and hit dial on Dom’s number. Pressing the device to my ear, I wait, listening to the rings before he answers.

  “What’s up, Rome?”

  “Hey, listen, you know that guy your family uses to check up on clients?” I ask, knowing that this isn’t going to be an easy deal with my best friend. Dominic is stubborn, and even if I told him it’s nothing serious, the fact that I want him to contact a PI for me means I’m hiding more secrets than he knows about.

  “Yeah, Malakhov,” he says.

  “Can he do some digging for me?” This time, I shut my eyes, waiting for the tirade of questions from my friend.

  Silence greets me, and I glance at the screen to make sure I didn’t drop the call, but he’s still there. I’m still connected.

  “Is this about the baker?” Dom’s voice is filled with amusement. He’s never seen me like this over a woman before. And to be fair, I haven’t ever wanted a woman as much. Never actually wanted to lay claim to anyone before. I need to take it slow, to gauge where this could go before I jump in with both feet.

  “Yeah,” I tell him. “I need to know what she’s hiding. Her past seems to be riddled with secrets, and I want to know them all.”

  “What if it’s something you can’t handle?”

  Dom’s question stills me. I never once considered that I would learn something that could make me change my mind about Elisabet. But I can’t deny he’s right. There could be something that she has been running from that may be a deal-breaker.

  “I don’t know, Dom,” I tell him honestly. “I’ll have to cross that bridge when I get to it.” I can’t say anything more than that. Because unless I know what’s behind the closed door, I can’t decide I’ll shut it or keep it open. Deep down, I want it to be nothing. But I doubt it can be.

  “Okay,” he says with a sigh. “Send me her details, whatever you have, and I’ll look into it for you.”

  Nodding, I respond, “Sure. Thanks, man.”

  “Does this mean I’m going to be alone when I head to the club tonight?” he questions, and I can hear him smiling on the other end of the line.

  “It does. I’m going to dinner with her. We’re going to attempt to get to know each other, but she just doesn’t know it yet.”

  “Man, you know how I always tell you not to stalk the fucking clients,” Dom taunts me, then chuckles when I tell him to fuck off. “Listen, I’m about to dive into a meeting, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “You mean dive into some pussy, or are you actually at the office?”

  He laughs out loud before answering, “A gentleman never tells.”

  “If you were a gentleman, I’d believe that.” I hang up before he has time to retort, but I know he’ll only get me back for that snarky comment tomorrow.

  I head back to my office and settle behind my desk. Pulling up my emails, I type out one to Dom, including all the information I have on Elisabet. I’m sure that Rossi is her real last name, and when I searched earlier, I didn’t find much. It’s as if she’s just appeared out of nowhere. No social media, not even a speeding ticket. Thankfully, I have access to a few websites that allow me to look into clients, but I know this is going to need a professional.

  Once I hit send, I check my phone and don’t find a response to my earlier message. Either she’s ignoring me, or perhaps something happened. No. Shaking my head, I hit dial on her number and wait.

  “Hello?”

  “Why are you ignoring me?” I ask the moment she answers.

  “I’m not, Rome. I have things to do. I’m out shopping for the bakery,” she tells me, but she sounds stressed. Her words are strained.

  I lean back in my chair, crossing my one ankle over the opposite knee, and say, “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve come to help you.” The offer hangs between us for a long moment.

  When she answers, her tone is lighter, less anxious. “I’m sorry. I got all my suitcases to the apartment; I even bought a few ingredients for a surprise I have planned.”

  “Oh?” Now I’m intrigued.

  “I wanted to make something for you,” she says. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  I smile. “Sweetheart, the only thing I want is you on your back with that pretty pussy wet for me. Does your surprise involve that?”

  “Unless you want to eat dessert from my body, then no.” I can hear the fire, the sass, that’s back in her voice, and I can’t help but calm down. When she’s worried, it sends alarm bells clanging in my head.

  “Sounds like fun. I could eat anything off that delectable, curvy body,” I tell her, and the thought alone sends all the blood rushing to my dick.

  “You’re insufferable,” she bites out, but there’s a slight giggle that filters through the line, and I can picture her cheeks turning a bright shade of red.

  “I know,” I tell her confidently. “It’s why you can’t stop thinking about me inside you.” This time, I chuckle. Teasing her is becoming something of a hobby for me, and I enjoy knowing that she’s squirming for me wherever she is.

  “I’m not listening to you anymore. I’m hanging up. See you tonight.” Before I have time to respond, I hear the click on the other end of the line. Little minx hung up on me.

  Tonight, I’ll ensure she pays for that.

  Chapter 16

  Elisabet

  It’s almost seven when I finally stop and take notice of the amount of food I made. The kitchen smells like an Italian restaurant with the fragrances that waft around the open-plan room. I smile for a moment, remembering my mother when she used to spend hours making our dinners.

  As a little girl, she was the only person I looked up to. I grew up learning from her, falling in love with everything I could create. My father loved her too, and when she died, I know it broke him. He wasn’t the same after that, and I don’t think I was either. I just didn’t notice it at the time.

  Over the years, I’ve caught him in our old kitchen, lost in thought, but the moment I walked in, he would put on the strong, serious expression, and tell me about his day. It would never be, I miss her, or, I’m thinking about her. His focus was on the organization, on the men he ruled over, and on the people who owed him something.

  The buzzer sounds, alerting me that Rome is here. When I pick it up, his voice comes through the line, str
ong and confident.

  “Let me up, gorgeous, I’m ready to eat,” he tells me, but there’s a hint of mischief in his tone, and I realize he’s not talking about the dinner I spent hours preparing.

  “You better be hungry,” I respond, hitting the button for him, which unlocks the door. I feel safe here. The building is monitored on a twenty-four-hour basis, which means nobody can get to me that I don’t want.

  When I open the door to Rome, I’m knocked breathless by the roses he’s holding. A dozen deep-red buds greet me, with his beautiful eyes locked on mine from overtop of the bouquet.

  “Wow.” My gasp is the only response I offer before stepping aside so he can enter. I shut the door and follow him into the kitchen, where he sets the flowers on the counter before he turns to me.

  “I wanted to surprise you as well,” he tells me, banding his arms around my waist before pulling me closer. “And I wanted to show you that I’m not just some asshole with sex on my mind.”

  “Even if it’s the only thing you think about all hours of the day?” I sass him. Leaning up on my tiptoes, I press my lips to his. Rome groans as his tongue slips out and licks the seam of my mouth. I open to him, and he delves in, deepening the kiss as his hands find my ass and gives it a squeeze.

  After long moments, he finally breaks our connection and looks down at me. “Sweetheart, if I was thinking about sex all day, it’s only because of you.”

  “Because of me?”

  He nods, his face taking on a serious expression. “Yeah, you’re so utterly beautiful, I can’t stop fantasizing about you.” He shrugs nonchalantly.

  “Rome, stop—”

  “I can’t. I told you.” He smiles, then presses one quick kiss on my lips before he releases me, and I immediately miss his warmth. “Now, tell me what’s for dinner, or I’ll pick you up and set you on the table and devour you.”

  “Not yet,” I tell him, swatting his arm before I realize what I just said. “I mean, no, you’re having dinner. I spent hours in the kitchen.”

  “Oh? Now you have my attention. Something does smell divine. I thought it was you.” He allows me to go to the stove. I open the pot to show off my pasta. It’s one of the best dishes I know I can make, which will impress him. Even though I prefer baking, I can make a mean tomato-beef pasta.

  “I made something from home. My mother was the one who taught me all about food. How to cook and how to bake. She was my inspiration behind the bakery,” I tell him, giving him a glimpse into me and my past. It may not be what he asked about, but it’s a small part of me. I don’t know why I feel the need to do it, or why I even allowed myself to admit something like that, but the smile he gives me makes it all worth it.

  “Thank you for sharing that with me,” Rome says. His arm wraps around my waist, and he pulls me closer. His warmth is calming, and I relax into his hold. I close the pot and then lift the lid of the tray sitting at the back of the stove. Rows of double chocolate, peanut butter muffins are lined up, ready to be devoured.

  “Now that’s my kind of treat. Do I get to eat my muffin off that beautiful body later?” he questions, leaning in to whisper in my ear. The warm breath and the stubble from his chin send tingles through every inch of my body.

  “If you’re a good boy and eat all your dinner,” I tell him as my hand trails its way down to his crotch. “Maybe you’ll get a super special dessert served with whipped cream.”

  His cock thickens under my touch, and I can’t help but laugh when he growls, and his fingers dig into my curves. A vibration rumbles through his chest against mine as Rome presses himself against me. My back is flush with the cabinet when he leans in once more, his mouth finding purchase on my neck.

  The softest touch of the kiss he places there sends a shiver through me before he sucks the sensitive flesh into his mouth, then he bites down ever so slightly, and the bite of pain sends a jolt down between my legs.

  “Don’t tease me, sweetheart,” Rome speaks against my neck. “Because I’ll bend you over this counter and show you just how hungry I am for you.” The seductive promise makes me tremble, and I know he’s noticed it.

  “Perhaps you should make good on your promise,” I challenge him, placing my hands against his chest and pushing him away ever so slightly. Rome’s eyes are dark, filled with desire that burns me, igniting every inch of my body.

  Without responding, he lifts me by my hips and spins around until my front is now flush with the smooth, marble counter. The coolness of the granite does nothing to stop the desire coursing through me.

  My skirt is shoved over my hips, and my panties are ripped from my body with a bite of pain that causes me to wince. Rome’s hands are all over my thighs, trailing up to my ass. Within seconds, he’s spanking both cheeks. He doesn’t hold back. The burn of the swats makes me whimper, but my pussy is slick with the need for him to fill me.

  “Are you done teasing me now?” Rome questions from behind me. He doesn’t make a move to fuck me, so I wiggle my ass in the hopes of tempting him to fill me, but he chuckles, pulling me to stand. “Dinner first,” he promises while his one hand finds my core, and his fingers dip into my slick entrance. He pumps two fingers in once, twice, then pulls them from my body and brings them up to his mouth. I watch as Rome sucks both digits clean, licking them like they’re his favorite candy.

  “Dinner then,” I breathe, my words coming out in a whisper, which makes him smirk. A wolfish grin turns his face into a seductive expression. As ready as I am for him to take me right now, I know we need time to talk.

  Chapter 17

  Rome

  By the time we’re sitting at the dinner table, I’m no longer hard as a rock, and I focus on the food instead of the scent of Elisabet’s pussy on my fingers. She sets the plates down, and I smile when she joins me. The meal smells amazing. I can’t believe she cooked for me.

  “Thank you for this,” I tell her earnestly. I glance up, and she's watching me as I put a forkful of pasta in my mouth. The flavors burst on my taste buds, and I can’t stop the moan of pleasure that rumbles in my throat. “Jesus, this is incredible.”

  “Were you doubting me?” she asks with a smile, and I watch as she eats her food. She looks beautiful as she licks the tomato sauce from her lips, and I find my mind drifting toward the bedroom rather than staying here with her.

  “Tell me about your mother,” I say before taking another mouthful.

  Sadness sparks in her eyes, and I realize I shouldn’t have asked because she’s going to shut down. Silently, I admonish myself for even asking. It was stupid, and I’m about to say so when she speaks.

  “She was a wonderful woman. Always smiling, loved me and my father,” she tells me. “We lived in Italy until she died. That’s when my father came out here, and I followed not long after.”

  “The name Rossi—”

  “She was someone who would love anyone. She always saw the best in people, and that’s what got her killed.” Her words shock me. Her brutal honesty stuns me for a moment. “I always wanted to do something that would keep her legacy living on. And that’s how I came to open the bakery.”

  “And you have one already?”

  She nods. “Yeah, in New York.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  Silence is my response, and I realize the time for sharing is over because Elisabet goes quiet and turns her attention on her plate.

  “I didn’t mean to dig into your life.” I sit back, regarding her with hopes that she’ll allow me in, even if it’s a foot through the door, but she just shakes her head. “Look, if you want me to go . . .” I allow the offer to fall into the room, hang between us so she can be the one to make the decision. I don’t want to go, but she has to be the one to say she wants me here. I’ve overstepped, I made a mistake, but I won’t apologize.

  “No,” she says after a long moment. “I just can’t talk about that yet.”

  “Yet?” This causes her to look at me.

  She offers me a smile that s
ays sorry, and then she tells me, “There are things that I’m working through. Like you said, this is no strings, and even though we’re having dinner, it’s not dating.”

  “Isn’t it? What about lunch?”

  “That was pure coincidence.” Now she leans back against her chair, but she keeps her eyes on me. “I just don’t want you to expect something from me that I can’t give you.”

  I take note of her choice of words and say so. “Can’t, not won’t?”

  She nods. That’s promising. I don’t want her to divulge anything until she’s ready, but I need to know that she’ll at least consider me a friend and offer me something to hold onto.

  “That I can work with,” I tell her before going back to my meal and devouring the rest of the food on my plate. I’m filled to the brim and pick up my wine to take a long sip. Elisabet does the same, her eyes on me as she sips her merlot. “Thank you for dinner.”

  “It’s a pleasure. I hope you enjoyed it,” she says. Her cheeks darken with a blush. There’s something so innocent about her, but then she looks at me, and it’s as if a tigress appears, and she seduces me with just a glance.

  “Would you like more wine?” I offer. Lifting the bottle, I pour some for myself, and Elisabet raises her glass, which I fill before setting the empty bottle down. “So, you know Mia?” I attempt to change the subject, hoping that this time I won’t put my foot in it.

  “Yes, we were together in culinary school before I left,” she tells me, and her eyes spark with pain. “I had some family problems to sort out, so I haven’t seen Mia in a long while.”

  “Family problems? Or is that part of the no-go part of your life?”

  “I can’t, Rome. Please.”

  “Understood. No family.”

  “Tell me about your family,” she says. Lifting her drink to her lips, she takes a sip, but those eyes are on me.

  “My mother is remarried to some tycoon and living in Hawaii, and my dad passed away a long time ago. But when he was alive, he enjoyed his life by taking trips overseas to fuck around in different countries, while he used to work in imports and exports.”