His pumps slow right down and he holds me against him, slipping his arm around my waist as I slump forward.
He’s still inside me and my passage continues to milk him clean. I rest my head against his chest, and he runs his fingers over my breasts, rubbing my hard nipples.
I’ve never had such wild, explosive sex. I’ve never felt so spent.
What happens now that it’s over?
I should leave. I’m supposed to leave now that he’s finished with me. I might not have known I was going to feel like this, but I knew this could happen. He called me away from the bar to have sex with me, and now that he has, I shouldn’t embarrass myself and stay with any expectation.
I should grab my clothes and go. Get myself home and wallow in my sorrow because I just acted like a slut with this man and now I feel worse about myself.
He pulls out of me, and I slump forward to pick up my clothes, but he catches my arm and turns me back to face him.
“Come home with me,” he says, and I wonder if I’m hearing right.
I gaze up at him and get lost in the way the moon shimmers down on his eyes, making them look ethereal and almost otherworldly.
He wants me to go home with him. Should I?
Reality seeps in and tries to tell me that idea would be crazier than what I just did with him, but my body tells me this is a no-brainer, so I find myself nodding, agreeing to go.
I squint against the bright sunlight when I try to open my eyes.
It hurts, and my head feels light, my body groggy, between my thighs sore. Very sore.
It takes me a full minute to remember the events of last night, and when I do, my eyes snap wide despite the impending sunlight.
I try to move, but the dead weight of an arm holds me in place. His arm. Donny’s.
I look to my left and find myself staring at the inky design of the snake tattooed across his left pec. Then I remember how I got up close and personal with each design after a bottle of wine and ended up tasting him everywhere. And I mean everywhere.
Holy fuck, I remember it all, and I recall now why I never get drunk often. In a social setting I have a drink or two to get the buzz. Last night was me venturing to the bar to take the edge off my problems, but when Donny and I got to his place, it was a whole other story.
After the third time we had sex, I think I must have lost my mind. Then he brought out all these bottles of expensive vintage wine, and I couldn’t resist drinking with him. They were the kind Lurlene has in her restaurant and keeps in the back for the special customers.
We drank it like it was water, and I remember him taking me in his hot tub while I poured the last of the bottle down my throat as he smoked a Cuban cigar.
I’m the kind of drunk who goes wild and remembers absolutely everything. What I remember now is that last night, I did things with this man that I’ve never done with anyone else.
Now the sun’s up, reality is here waving itself in front of me, and I think it would be wise to leave before he wakes up. I would hate to experience any weird awkwardness with him to spoil the night we had. It was wild and so unlike me, but… I want to remember it.
I pull in a breath and slip out from his grasp, careful not to wake him. I’m thankful that he doesn’t stir. His arm settles against the navy silky sheets, and he looks undisturbed.
I slide off the bed and look for my clothes. My dress is draped over the arm of a chair near the floor-to-ceiling windows, but I don’t know where to find my panties.
I have no idea where the hell they went. There’s no trace of memory in my mind except for Donny taking them off me once we got up here and then throwing them somewhere. Wherever that was, is not somewhere I’m going to find for fear of waking him up.
Since I don’t know where my bra is either, my dress will have to do.
I slip my pumps back on and allow myself one last look at the gorgeous godlike man lying on the bed who had me last night.
Even asleep, he’s beautiful and oozes sex appeal that pulls at my insides.
Asleep, he looks vulnerable and has an angelic presence about him. Awake, he’s not like that. The way he was with me, I could tell he had more than a wild side.
It was wild and daring. It was that danger I sensed.
I like him.
I won’t deny that. I like him a lot, but I have to leave it here. Right here in this pocket of time where I know I can’t have more than last night.
Last night is exactly what he said it was: a fantasy. Two people doing what they wanted to do to each other. It was nice to be his, and I’m glad I went to the club. He was something unexpected I didn’t plan on finding, and he helped to soften the blow of an immense loss.
On that thought, I turn and leave the room, padding across the wooden floor.
I slip through the bedroom door, where I’m greeted with the wide stone steps leading down to the hallway. This house is beautiful. If circumstances were different, I would have loved to explore it.
It has that less-is-more effect with minimal furniture and a subtle color scheme of cream and burgundy. The house is much bigger than what I’ve seen, and I get the feeling that the rest of the rooms have the standard high ceilings and wide spaces common to most Italian-styled homes.
There’s just one thing I need to use before I run out: the phone. I saw one in the kitchen. I’ll call a taxi, and then I’ll go. I’ll just wait on the roadside.
I make that call quickly, grateful that I remembered the area I’m in and the taxi number from the taxi that picked me up at the airport. It was one of those easy multiple numbers you can’t forget, but the end of it was the same as my cell number.
After the call, I make haste and rush back out to the hallway. I was just about to continue my flight to the door when something metallic shimmers against the sun and catches my attention.
I stop mid stride and take a better look. It’s peeking through his jacket hanging from the coat stand. Curiosity is what propels me to move closer and touch the metal edge. When I do, I instantly regret it.
It’s a gun! Donny has a gun in his jacket.
I don’t need to look past what I can see and feel to double check. William had one. He insisted on it, arguing that as a prosecuting attorney it was a must-have. I hate guns. They just have this scary feel to them that leaves a lump in my throat.
I understand why William had one for safe keeping. But Donny…
He just runs a nightclub. Or so he said.
I guess this is another reason for me to leave and to go soon. I don’t know him.
Last night was amazing, and I don’t want to regret it. Sometimes good memories are the things a person should hold on to and nothing more.
Chapter Four
Donny
Memories of last night fill my mind, and a smile inches across my face. I continue to lie in my bed, eyes shut as I stir from a deep sleep. I grin like an idiot when I recall all the ways I took my doll.
I reach for her, sliding my hand across the bedsheets. But when my hand comes away with nothing I open my eyes and see I’m alone. I shuffle and my fingers brush over a beaded object under the pillow so I pull on it and find myself staring at the little crystal bracelet Willow wore.
I glance around the room, but I know she’s gone. The house has that presence about it that tells me I really am alone.
It’s empty and void, kind of like how I’m feeling now.
I shouldn’t. I completely expected her to do this. To leave. I don’t usually like bringing women back to my house. Not here and not in Chicago.
It’s always a hotel and they know to be gone before I wake. They know a night with me is just a good time. There was just something different about her.
After the first time we had sex, I wanted more. I wanted to see the beauty come undone in my bed. I wanted to have her in my own place where I set the rules on what we do and how wild we get to be.
Wild is too tame a word to describe what we were last night, and I fucking want her all
over again.
Shit. Listen to me.
I sit up and allow my legs to slide off the bed. I look at the little bracelet in my hand and find myself thinking of her. It looks like her. Delicate and dainty. Nice. Too nice.
She’s a good girl. I knew that straightaway. She’s not used to guys like me, and I’m sure she’d probably run a mile if she knew I was a dirty mobster.
A dirty mobster who took advantage of the poor doll who I knew was looking for an escape. I wanted her to escape in me. I took advantage of her need to forget whatever shit sent her to the club by herself, but the joke’s on me. I got caught in my own trap because she’s the kind of woman you don’t forget.
I want her again, but I know I’m supposed to leave her alone. Women like her are alright to be with for one night and one night only. Just to indulge the curiosity for a taste, and that’s it. You don’t take them into the darkness of the criminal world.
That’s what my life will be like, and I learned that the hard way when I watched the bullet rip into my mother, killing her. I might be this smooth-talking raw-assed gangster, but I know if I ever fell in love and loved hard the way my father loved my mother, it would kill me if I ever lost my girl to violence.
So, last night was last night, and that’s all it can ever be.
My phone rings, signaling business. It’s in my pants pocket on the floor.
I rush to answer it.
“Hey, Donny.” It’s Alex.
“Hey, man, everything cool?” I check the clock on the wall and wince when I see it’s after ten. I’m normally up well before now. I don’t like sleeping in, just in case there’s trouble.
“Not really. Gibbs found some stuff. Can you come to my place?”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” I answer.
“Cool, see you then.”
I hang up, take a quick shower, and get dressed. Then I take my motorcycle because it’ll be quicker to speed to Alex’s. He sounded serious, and if Gibbs found something, it means shit just got real.
Every time that man finds something it means things are about to change in a big way. Gibbs is the type of PI who can find things nobody wants found. I don’t know how he does it, and he’ll always say he has his ways, but I wonder what his ways are and who the fuck he must know to give him the intel he can gather. Sometimes he finds things we can’t even find, and that’s near impossible.
I pull up on Alex’s drive in the next five minutes and see Gibbs’ Harley parked on the side. That was the first thing he insisted on getting when we arrived days ago. I just wanted to get to my place and call my father to let him know I’d arrived. Pa lives near the club in the vineyard I grew up on, and he’s adamant I see him soon.
I was going to see him today, but from the sounds of this call, that might not happen.
Alex’s door is already open, so I just walk in and find him and Gibbs in the living room mulling over some paperwork.
Alex has a crease in his brow and doesn’t even give me the standard greeting I usually get from him.
“Take a seat, bro. This is not good. Not in the least,” he mutters, and Gibbs looks over at me, tipping his salt and pepper head for a curt nod.
I nod back and grab one of the chairs from around the dinner table.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“It’s shit. All of it is fucking shit and worse than I thought. Thank fuck for the tip-off we got because it wouldn’t just be Claudius who’d get stitched up and screwed all six ways to Sunday. It would be all of us,” Alex scuffs.
“Show me,” I demand.
Gibbs runs a hand through his gray beard and gives me some pictures. They look like the standard ones you’d see when taken from far away. That’s to say the least though. It’s who’s in the pictures that catches my attention.
There are three guys. Two are brothers I’ve known of for a long time. Their names are Amadeo and Leo Fettuccine. They’ve been in the alliance and clients in the business since I was a boy.
The other guy is a known human trafficker called Xiou Ming. He works for The Triad. The fucking Triad. The three are standing in a circle just outside the docks by The Caterina, the hotel linked to Bel Posto
The briefcase being handed over to Amadeo is a dead giveaway that they’re definitely doing some kind of business.
“Fuck,” I hiss, baring my teeth, but I continue looking through the pictures. All of them are of the three fuckers either near the fucking hotel or the club. My hands still when I get to the fourth, and the blood drains from my skin.
The picture has four young girls chained together entering a truck. The fucking truck is parked in the loading bay of the hotel. A place that’s password protected.
I look to Alex then to Gibbs.
“My camera guy was able to get these. It happened last night,” Gibbs explains. His dark brown eyes hold a sheen of rage I don’t miss.
“We were just near there,” I state, straightening up.
“These fuckers were doing business right under our noses and in the hotel,” Alex adds.
“Yeah. Looks like they got a good setup, but the van had no plates, and we weren’t able to track where the girls went. Them and Xiou are gone.” Gibbs gives me a defeated look.
I always give this guy credit. He works mostly for us, and I wouldn’t call us the good guys. We don’t get involved with shit like this, though, and I can tell he wants to do something about it. I want to do something about it too. Those girls are probably no older than sixteen. Who knows what the fuck’s going to happen to them and where they went.
“This is shit,” I sigh.
“Guys…” Gibbs steels his spine and looks from me to Alex. “I know these men have been in your business alliance for a long time. I’ve seen what they bring to the table, but I’m gonna be clear right the hell now that if you’re thinking of continuing business with them, my job with you all is done. I’m not into kidnapping young girls for the sex market.”
He looks serious as fuck, as he should be. He’s not a mobster. He might do jobs for us but he’s not from our world. He’s ex-navy and has his own handle on things. I wouldn’t give a fuck what Amadeo brings to the table. Losing Gibbs would put us in the shit. He’s worth his weight in gold and what you call a priceless asset.
I look to Alex and already know what he’s going to say.
“Gibbs, relax, man. We don’t get down like that,” Alex tells him. “We’re not into doing anything like this and we’re going to put a stop to it no matter who we piss off.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I didn’t want to be wrong about you guys after so many years. Just wanted to be clear and upfront,” Gibbs answers.
“No worries. I would do the same,” Alex replies then looks to me. “Donny, what do we do here?”
I smirk, liking how he passed the torch to me. “Terminate certain business contracts, of course.”
“Can you handle it? There’s worse shit happening in Calabria. It’s drugs. I gotta call in the boys.”
My brows rise. “What the hell’s happening?”
“Drug ring, looks like cartel guys.”
My jaw drops. “Are you shitting me?”
“Man, I wish I was.” He shows me more pictures of some guys. I don’t recognize them, but they’re outside the other branch of the hotel located in Calabria.
“Fucking hell.”
“Yes, I agree,” Gibbs says. “These can’t be random acts, and these men aren’t opportunists. Men like these don’t just pop up uninvited.”
I might have this jovial personality, but fuck, I’m not stupid. “No, they certainly do not,” I say. “Men like that don’t just sneak in when an opportunity arises.” The opportunity being Palo’s absence for the last nine months. They don’t look like they’re sneaking around. They seem too comfortable, like guests. Invited.
“And not when they have their own feature on the world’s most wanted list. They clearly had help.” Alex chimes in and gives me a knowing look.
“Mario,” I breathe, and they both nod.
That son of a fucking bitch. This, all of it has to be him. That fucker didn’t think we’d find out, and we wouldn’t have if not for Gibbs and his off-the-records experience on getting his hands on covert shit.
“Looks to me like he’s set up these side businesses,” Alex says.
“The pocket between Sicily and Calabria is perfect for these traffickers. They can get a boat and head toward Spain or Greece, or fuck, right into Albania. We don’t know,” Gibbs sighs.
“They seem to be focusing on the Caterina and Bel Posto,” Alex surmises.
“Well, it ends here,” I jump in. I can’t have this shit going on. What a way for me to start my duties. This is big stuff we don’t usually encounter on the regular and dirt we definitely can’t allow to continue.
“This could all get sticky, Donny. The Triad don’t just pop up, and Mario can’t be the schmuck we think he is if he’s got friends like that. Not to mention that it has to be him rubbing shoulders with the cartel too.”
Jesus. I already know not to underestimate anybody. The one thing I can trust about mafia guys is that they always want more. There’s always something they want, something to be selfish over. Some shit to get in trouble over.
“Don’t worry. I got it covered,” I tell him. I was the ambitious bastard who wanted more responsibility, this is my chance.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. First thing I’ll do is talk to Mario.” And what a chat we’ll have indeed. Right now we suspect him so I’ll give the benefit of the doubt until we know he’s guilty. This is deep shit and he and his family have been part of the alliance for many years, the same as mine. These are deep accusations. We have to be sure.
“Yes, meet with him first, then Amadeo and Leo.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll update Lois and Saul in case there’s trouble,” I say.
They’re my right hand guys from Chicago. We’ve always travelled together when there’s danger so it was a given that they’d accompany me to Sicily for this trip. Having them around means I’ll have my ass covered if things get out of hand.
The Sting of Love: A Mafia Romance (Gangsters and Dolls Book 5) Page 4
