Lucca: Azzarra Crime Family Book Two

by Kiara Woodson

  Then again, he was respectful enough to quit when I told him to. This confused me, too. If he thought of me as property, then he would have just taken me. He could see it in my eyes that I wanted him to. I felt drawn to him like a hummingbird to sugar – he was irresistible to me, and it took every ounce of my willpower to tell him to stop.

  I took the puff that was hanging up in the shower and lathered it up. As I brought it to my legs, I found my clit and massaged it. It was swollen and wet, a sure sign that Lucca had lathered me up, which he certainly did. I closed my eyes, seeing his handsome face in my head. Feeling his soft lips enveloping my own. I imagined those same lips on my clit, on my stomach, in my pussy, in my ass. I imagined him just kissing me on every inch of my body, and then coming back for more, again and again and again. I sighed and groaned as I brought myself to a climax and I sat down in the tub, breathing hard and feeling my heart pounding out of my chest.

  What was up with this guy? He was dangerous, but I was used to that. I had been around dangerous men my entire life. I saw guys like Lucca to be just like all the soldiers that I had grown up around. Nothing more and nothing less.

  I sighed as I realized that I was lying to myself about that. Lucca was different than those other men I knew growing up. He had a sophistication about him, a certain charm. An intelligence. I knew about his background, and, considering that he was working as a low-level soldier for some two-bit gangster run family in Sicily up until recently, he certainly could give as good as he got. That was impressive. And for a guy like him to take on a man like my father? Man, he had stones. Some serious stones. I had to respect him for that reason alone.

  So he was different from the other wise guys I knew. So what? What did that mean? That certainly didn’t mean that he could have me, anymore than those other men could have me. Most wise guys who worked for my father wanted to take me. I knew that just by the way that they always looked at me. They would never say a word, of course. I was strictly off-limits. My father might have always demanded that I date only Italian men, but he would never approve of my dating somebody who worked for the family business. No, my father wanted somebody for me who was more respectable. A doctor maybe, or a lawyer. Not a goombah. Not that Lucca was a goombah, because he certainly wasn’t.

  My mind wandered to my sister Izzy. She was pregnant, and she told our father that she didn’t know who fathered her child. That was a lie. At this point, though, my father was seriously trying to find somebody to marry her, and he would settle for a goombah if he had to for her. As silly as that sounded. He was going to find somebody to marry her, however, and do it soon, before people started doing math and figuring out the truth about her.

  As I thought about Lucca, about the way that he looked and about the electricity that flowed through every cell of my body the second he touched me, I almost wished that I was in Izzy’s predicament. If I were, then maybe a guy like Lucca would be acceptable for me in the eyes of my father. My father loosened his “no goombah no wise guy” rule for Izzy because of the predicament she was in, so he would presumably do the same for me if I were in the same predicament.

  Whatever. At any rate, as much as I completely found Lucca panty-dripping hot, he wasn’t for me. He shouldn’t be for me, anyhow, considering he was the one who had me kidnapped like this.

  About an hour later, I had gotten out of the shower and I was completely dressed and staring at the ceiling. Unfortunately, staring at the ceiling was my only form of entertainment, and I was feeling absolutely stir-crazy. I would never again take things for granted after this nonsense – things like books, television, computers, smart-phones and music. Things that actually made the time not seem like it was passing like molasses.

  As I was sitting on my bed, I heard a faint knock. “Come in,” I called, hoping it was Lucca.

  He tentatively came in the door, his hand playfully shading his eyes. “Are you decent?”

  “Since when is that an issue? After all, you just walked right in before when I was buck naked and look how that turned out.” I raised my eyebrows at him, just as playfully. “But yes, I am fully clothed, so you are welcome to come in. Just as you were welcome to come in before.”

  It turned out that he had food on a tray, so I was more than happy to see him for that reason alone. I was famished, as I hadn’t eaten for many hours. Since I was ambushed and brought into this hell-hole, at any rate. “Here,” he said, sitting down on the bed. He propped the tray up on my lap and I removed the silver covering off the plate that was sitting on the try. I took a whiff, the scent of garlic and butter and rosemary filling my nose. Chicken Piccata. My favorite.

  “What’s up with this?” I teased him. “Cooking Northern Italian food. I thought you were from Sicily.”

  He shot me a look and I smiled. “Just eat.”

  I dug in, secretly thinking that this was probably the best damn Chicken Piccata I had ever tasted. Mainly because I loved a lot of garlic. My motto in cooking was that there’s no such thing as too much garlic, and this dish embodied that philosophy. The mushrooms were tender, the butter sweet and creamy, and there was just a right amount of lemon in the sauce. The chicken itself was just as tender as the mushrooms, as I was able to smoothly eat the dish with only a fork. It was served with a side of fettuccini Alfredo, which was just as good as the Piccata – decadently rich, with aged Parmesan cheese, sweet creamy butter and cream served over noodles which tasted like they were freshly made out of a pasta machine. I nodded my head, thinking that either this guy could cook or he hired somebody who could. Either way, this stuff was better than any Italian restaurant I had been to.

  It was just as good as my mother’s cooking, and that said plenty.

  As I chewed, though, I tried not to give anything away. I could see him watching me anxiously, looking to see what I would say, but I kept a poker face the entire time.

  I picked up the wine glass that was on the tray and took a sip. Smooth, full-bodied, just a hint of pear…just like I liked it. I wondered if this guy could read my mind or he just got lucky, because, so far, this meal consisted of everything I loved.

  Finally, he had to ask me about how I liked the food. “What do you think?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve had better.” I continued to eat and drink, and, when he wasn’t looking, I smiled. He did look crushed. “Did you cook this food?”

  “I did.” He fidgeted his hands and looked down at the ground. I almost felt badly for him, because I could see that he was dying to please me with this food. “My aunt’s recipes. I lived with her in Sicily.”

  I cocked my head. I knew the story about why he lived with his aunt, and I thought it was pretty sad. His own parents chose to virtually abandon him and his sisters to live in Italy, because they didn’t want them getting in the way of Gianni inheriting the empire. I never thought that an Italian family would do such a thing, but his did. It was pretty weird. “What was that like, living with your aunt?”

  It was his turn to shrug. “It was fine. I didn’t really know the truth, because it was kept from me and my sisters. I just thought that my parents were dead. I still don’t really understand why they arranged things like they did.” He paused, looking at the boarded-up window. “Hey, I apologize for doing that to you. Boarding up that window like that, and putting up that black cloth. You really should at least be able to see out.”

  I crossed my arms in front of me and glared at him. “Yes. I also would like something, anything, to pass the time. You don’t know how boring it is to just be in a room with four walls and nothing to do. I don’t know how long you plan on keeping me here, but if you plan on my being your prisoner for any length of time, I suggest you at least make things entertaining.”

  He took a deep breath. “So, I still need for you to call your roommate and tell her that you’re skiing over Christmas Break.”

  “No.” My answer was blunt, to the point. But I soon thought that I should elaborate on why I was refusing. “Listen, she won’t believe me
anyhow. She’ll be suspicious. After all, she knows what business my family is in. She’s very aware that I don’t exactly lead a safe life because of it. She knows that I wouldn’t just take off to a ski resort without telling her. You’re going to have to come up with a better plan if you don’t want Adelaide calling the police.”

  He stood up. “Regardless, I need for Adelaide to be called off. You better figure that out.”

  “Oh, I’m supposed to figure that out? Me? Amateur.” I narrowed my eyes and kept eating. “Let me guess, this is the first time you’ve attempted something like this. Am I right?” I shook my head as I saw his face, which confirmed my suspicions. “Your first time hostage-taking, and you start with the daughter of the second-most powerful boss on the East Coast. You’re in over your head.”

  “Listen, princess, my earlier threat stands. Don’t think that I would hesitate to ice you right here and send your severed hand to your father as proof of what I’ve done.”

  “You wouldn’t have the guts.” I looked into his eyes and I knew that what I was saying was right. I wasn’t just calling his bluff. I could simply see that, even though he clearly had the capacity to kill if he needed to, he wasn’t going to make me one of his victims.

  “Don’t talk to me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “I---“

  “You’ve killed people over in Sicily. I know. You were a soldier, that’s what you did. And you iced those three goombahs in the van, thank god. But you won’t lay a hand on me.”

  He took a deep breath. “Listen, Bianca…”

  I lay back on the bed and put the tray down on the floor as I patted my stomach. “Well, my belly is full. I need you to leave me alone because I’m tired.” That was partially the truth. I had had a long day, what with it starting with my getting kidnapped at 3 AM and all. “I’m tired, and you need to leave. If you want Adelaide to not call the police, you’re going to-“

  I didn’t finish my sentence, because Lucca was on top of me. At first, he put his hands forcefully on my shoulders and looked at me menacingly. “You’re going to call Adelaide and you’re going to come up with a goddamned good story.”

  I slapped him across the face, hard, and, for one moment, he looked stunned. But that stunned look soon turned to one of desire. “Or what?” I said softly. “How can you ice me when I can see in your eyes that what you really want to do is fuck me?”

  “God…” His lips were soon on mine, devouring them, devouring me. “Goddamn, Bianca…”

  As his lips hungrily met my own, I fumbled with unbuttoning his jeans. I spread my fingers over his crotch region, feeling his massive cock that was rock hard beneath his pants. I gasped as his lips were rapidly moving from my mouth down to my chest region, and felt electricity pulse throughout my body as his expert tongue found my nipples and his hands roamed from my breasts down to my waist and onto my clit. I grabbed his cock and pulled it out of his pants, my fingers firmly gripping it.

  My clit felt like it was on fire, as his lips made its way down to my swollen inner folds. “You are so goddamned beautiful, Bianca,” he said haltingly between breaths. “So beautiful.”

  I bucked up off the bed as his fingers carefully parted my folds and his tongue lightly breezed on my clit and my pussy. What he was doing felt amazing. Amazing and so very wrong. I came to my orgasm in record time, because he was such an expert in going down. And then, after the orgasm spread throughout my body, I put my foot underneath his bare cock and moved it up to his rock-hard abs and pressed hard.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Lucca asked me as I kept pressing my foot into his abs.

  “You gave me what I needed, now it’s time for you to get the fuck out.” I narrowed my eyes to show that I wasn’t joking. I wasn’t even playing hard to get. It just suddenly struck me, after I took my orgasm, that he was playing me for a fool and I didn’t like it. I was his captive. I would be damned if I was also going to be his sex slave.

  “What the-“

  “Out.” I crossed my arms and looked over at the door. “Now.”

  He furrowed his brows and shook his head, picked up his pants from up off the floor, and left without another word.

  Six

  Lucca

  What Bianca did just now should have pissed me off. After I left her room, I immediately had to masturbate because my cock was literally aching. It took me less than a minute and I was done. That was a dirty trick that she pulled on me, getting me that worked up and then throwing me out of the room. It was a dirty trick, but I couldn’t ever say that I didn’t deserve it. God knew that I did, after what I did to her.

  Still, I should have been frustrated and angry. But I wasn’t. I was simply intrigued. Bianca wasn’t going to give it up to me just like that, and I liked that about her. It made her very much unlike all the other women that I had known, most of whom would end up in bed with me within an hour. I fucked them, some of the most beautiful women in the world, but I drew no satisfaction from them. I couldn’t, because I didn’t respect them.

  Bianca, I respected. She was spirited, just like I could tell when I first met her. She didn’t fuck around. She was somebody who I wanted to get to know better, and, just as she suspected, I was dying to fuck her. Fuck her long and slow. Give it to her until she screamed, and, when she screamed, give it to her more.

  Of course, getting involved with her would be a dangerous game indeed. Perhaps she was right for making sure that the two of us never got that far – after all, she was nothing more than a pawn in the game I was playing with her father. She knew that. That was probably why she stopped us from going too far.

  There was a part of me that was screaming that Bianca wasn’t just a pawn in the game. She was much more than that. I couldn’t acknowledge that fact, at least not openly, because that was the last thing that I needed. I could never get involved with her because doing so would cloud my judgment and would hinder me in getting to my end-game.

  I sighed as I took my usual place in front of the fire and fixed my neat scotch. I had to focus on what I wanted out of Bianca, and I had to figure out the best way to get it. She wasn’t going to cooperate. Nor should she. She knew, just as well as I did, what the score was – I would have a difficult time killing her, even though I knew that it might come to that if Benito refused to meet with me. I didn’t even know if I could kill her if it came to that, and that was what Bianca was banking on. She seemed to be gambling that my overwhelming feelings of lust for her would prevent me from icing her, which was why she was refusing to play my game.

  I was just going to have to try a different tact with her, because Bianca was right – her roommate was probably going to call the police soon if Bianca didn’t come home. I knew that I had a window of a few days, because my tail informed me that Bianca often didn’t come home for up to three days at a time if she met somebody who interested her. I doubted that Adelaide would think anything of it if Bianca didn’t come home right away. But after a few days, Adelaide was going to have to have answers and Bianca was going to have to be forced to answer them. I had no idea how I was going to force her to lie to her roommate about her whereabouts, but I knew that I was going to have to try.

  At that point Pagolo came in the room and sat down across from me. Pagolo was 60 years old, and had the experience that I was looking for when I was looking to hire a new consigliere. The way that he dressed, the music that he listened to, his values – they were all old-school, and I found that comforting. As much as I respected Gino, I needed somebody to look up to, and Pagolo was definitely that person. Which was good and bad, really, because I felt the need to please him. If he disagreed with me, I would listen to him, which might mean that I would have to ignore my own instincts. As much as I didn’t really want another person in my head, I knew that I needed good counsel, and I trusted Pagolo to give this to me.

  I nodded my head to him, not wanting to hear what he was going to say to me. I knew that Gino had probably gone to him with hi
s concerns, and now I was going to hear Pagolo’s ideas. I had the feeling that his ideas weren’t going to be to my liking.

  He cleared his throat. “Gino has been talking to me about Bianca Fattore being a hostage here,” he began. “And he has indicated that you might not know exactly what you want to do with her.”

  I nodded my head. “That’s true, but that’s also untrue. I need Benito Fattore to come to the bargaining table. As you know, he’s been threatening to a hostile takeover at the worst, and a territory encroachment as a best-case scenario. I need him to back off of both of these ideas. I’ve tried to arrange a meeting with him, and he’s refused. I made sure that his son went to prison, and he knows that I’m behind Stefano going to prison. He’s still refused. So, I kidnapped his daughter.” I took a deep breath. “That’s my last parting shot to him. And, I have to be willing to kill her if I have to send him a message that he’s not to fuck with me.”

  Pagolo regarded me for a few minutes, absorbing what I was telling him. He was very good at doing just that – listening without speaking. That was one of the things that I liked the most about him. I hated to be interrupted, which is one of the reasons why Gino and I didn’t always get along so well.

  At the same time, though, it was a bit unnerving to have him just stare at me like that without speaking. I wondered what was on his mind as he continued just to watch me carefully.

  Finally, he spoke. “Benito won’t necessarily give you what you want. Not unless you’re willing to give him a few things that he wants.”

  “Meaning?” I didn't like the sound of this. Was I going to have to give Benito territory? If that was Pagolo’s idea, then I was going to put the kibosh on that right away. I wasn’t going to let that camel’s nose peek under the tent. I could give him a city block, and that would embolden him to still take more. I could give him some of my best soldiers, and that would make him think that he could just force a hostile takeover. You can’t give a man like Benito, a man who killed my father and was in on a plot to kill my brother, anything at all. That was clear.