His mouth found the tender spot behind her ear and she moaned, moving her hands up his chest.
She wanted to feel him, to reassure herself that he was unharmed.
Tony gripped her breast, toying with her nipple until it hardened. She pulled away from him and stripped her shirt off. Then she yanked his over his head.
His seat suddenly shifted backward and she was startled for a moment until she realized he’d hit the release button.
She didn’t hesitate, shimmying out of her jeans while he undid his belt buckle.
The car was cramped, but she didn’t care. She climbed onto his lap, lowering herself onto his hard length.
Only when he filled her did she feel whole again.
She felt alive.
His mouth found hers as his hands gripped her hips, helping to set the rhythm—fast, furious, and utterly fulfilling.
She flattened one palm on the roof of the car to steady herself as she neared the brink.
He slid his hand between them to put his fingers on her clit, working them in a circular motion.
“God, Ginny, you’re everything.”
Hearing those words, she fell over the edge. As her muscles spasmed around him, he fell with her.
* * *
Tony breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath. Her chest rose and fell against his. Good to know he wasn’t the only one needing to recover.
Ginny completely undid him.
Her body was still wrapped around him. He would be content to spend the rest of the evening—hell, the rest of his life—like this. He knew that wasn’t possible, but for now he’d take what he could get, which meant a few more minutes before they’d have to return to reality.
He brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her temple. She shifted, putting her hands on his cheeks and kissing him, her soft lips conveying so much emotion.
His body stirred beneath her. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her, his eyes meeting hers.
“I know,” she said quietly. She lifted herself off him and moved back into the passenger seat.
He didn’t want to leave her. But he sure as hell didn’t want to put her at risk, either.
He fixed his pants and pulled on his shirt. “I need to get some things from my apartment,” he said.
Worry quickly shone in her eyes.
“I’m not leaving you alone,” he assured her. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
After making sure she was safely in the house, Tony took off for his apartment. He was in and out in less than five minutes.
His next stop would probably take a bit longer. He set off in the direction of his parents’ house.
On the drive there, the events of the day ran through his mind so by the time he parked in the driveway, fury flowed through his veins.
Tony flung open the front door of his parents’ house, not bothering to knock, and stalked inside. His mother appeared in the foyer, coming from the direction of the kitchen and wiping her wet hands on an apron that was tied over her pajamas.
“Where is he?” Tony growled.
His mother’s hand went to her throat and her other arm crossed over her stomach. She inclined her head toward his father’s office. Her gaze fixed on his shirt.
Damn—he’d forgotten about the blood on his clothes. What must his mother be thinking? Fuck, he didn’t want her involved in this. But to a certain extent, she already was. After all, she was married to the fucker.
Tony strode off in that direction and entered the office in the same fashion he’d entered the house—abrupt and angry.
“What the hell?” His father sat at his desk, his laptop open.
“You need to tell your business partner to back . . . the . . . fuck . . . off.” Tony’s hands were already clenched into fists, and they shook at his sides. He’d never struggled more than now to keep himself in check. He wanted to grab hold of his father’s shirt and yank him across the desk.
His father eyed him evenly. “You know as well as I do that would do no good.”
Good—at least his father wasn’t trying to bullshit him anymore. It was time to put his cards on the table—a fucking Hail Mary—but he had to do it, for Nonna and his mother’s sakes.
“I don’t give a fuck about you, but I don’t want you to destroy the company Nonno built. It’s not too late to keep this quiet. Cut ties with Barkov. Ease your way out of Adamo and retire by the end of the year.”
Laughing, his father stood and walked around to the front of the desk. “That’s supposed to appeal to me?”
“This is the only time I’m going to make this offer.” He stood toe to toe with his father, towering over him by several inches.
His father’s expression sobered. “Now you listen here, son, and this is the only time I’m going to say this. You’re playing a dangerous game and you’re in over your head. What the hell are you thinking taking up with Barkov’s fiancée? If you go to authorities, you might as well kill Ginny yourself.”
Fury filled Tony’s chest so full he feared he would burst. “Are you threatening her?”
He almost wished it was a threat. Then he’d have an excuse to unleash his anger on his father. The fight earlier today had only been a precursor.
Hell, his entire life was a precursor to the beating he owed his father.
“Just stating the facts, son. You think a man like Barkov will tolerate his woman making a fool of him? And then going to the cops? She’s lucky she’s stayed alive this long. She’s lucky Barkov is fond of her, but that affection won’t last forever and she can’t hide forever, either. So here’s your alternative—return Ginny to Barkov and he’ll forget this indiscretion as a favor to me.”
Tony almost laughed. That was his alternative? Fuck him. He was so lucky Tony’s mother was just in the other room.
And Barkov was fond of Ginny? If that was how he treated those he was fond of, Tony would hate to see how Barkov treated those on his shit list.
Tony leveled his gaze at his father. “That’s not happening. Barkov isn’t getting close to Ginny.”
“I’m warning you, Tony, don’t get involved here.” For a split second, Tony wondered why his father even bothered to warn him—it wasn’t out of fatherly concern. No, it was to save his own ass. Barkov couldn’t be pleased that his business partner’s son had stolen his fiancée. And that’s how he would view it—as theft, because Ginny was property to be owned.
Fuck that.
“Too late.” Tony stormed out of the office.
The meeting had gone as expected but not as he’d hoped. It was a shot in the dark anyway.
His mother was sitting in the parlor as he passed, so he stopped. He carefully tempered his anger—though he couldn’t help but be pissed at her, too. She knew what her husband was like and she tolerated it. She had none of her own family left, so that might be part of it—the Adamos were her family.
But damn—Nonno and Nonna wouldn’t have disowned her if she’d divorced him. Hell, they liked her better anyway.
“When’s your next trip?” he asked.
She ignored the question, instead fingering the bloody spots on his shirt. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” He brushed her hand aside. “When’s your next trip?”
“Soon.” Her gaze raked over him, no doubt examining for injuries.
“Can you move it up? Perhaps take Nonna with you?”
“Why?” Her eyes widened. “What’s going on, Tony?”
Looking up at the ceiling, Tony shook his head. “If you only knew.”
He wanted to tell her—and to demand to know how and why she’d stayed married to that asshole all these years—but he didn’t want to put her in that position. Especially not now.
“Tony,” his mother said sharply, and he lowered his gaze to meet hers. “Tell me what’s going on. Are Nonna and I in danger?”
Tony hesitated. He wanted to say no, that she didn’t need to fear her husband, but he didn�
�t know that to be true anymore. Now that his father was teamed up with Barkov, all bets were off.
Plus, now that Barkov knew about him and Ginny, he wouldn’t put it past the man to go after his mother, even if she was his business partner’s wife.
And his father, in his arrogance, probably hadn’t even considered the possibility. If he even cared at all.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I would feel a lot better if you took Nonna out of town for a while.”
If Ginny wouldn’t leave, then at least he could convince the other women in his life to.
“We’ll leave tomorrow,” she said quietly, her eyes not meeting his. She wrapped her arms around herself.
She was a smart woman—she probably knew much more than she let on. He could almost feel sorry for her, but she made her choices. Now he had to make his.
“Good.” He pulled his mother into a quick embrace before heading toward the door. “The sooner, the better.”
Chapter 24
Sitting on the bed in one of Natalie’s guest rooms, Ginny drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Her body, mind, and soul were exhausted. Kat and Natalie were in the kitchen, having some wine to ease the stress of the day, but Ginny needed to be alone.
For starters, being around the other women caused guilt to overwhelm her. Kat had been forced to shoot a man in her own home and now Natalie was putting herself at risk by housing her. She’d never even met Kat before today and Natalie was merely a casual acquaintance. Yet, Ginny owed both women so much. She’d never be able to repay them.
Then there was Tony. He could have been killed earlier tonight.
And it was all because of her.
She’d made so many poor decisions and the ripples from those decisions reached far and wide. It all started with her decision to marry Fedor—
No, that wasn’t true. It started with her father mismanaging the company. Then Veronica and Barry—she still couldn’t bear to accept the fact that her sister was probably a murderer. Lastly, there was Fedor. He’d blackmailed her and then beat her up.
The more she thought about it, the more the layers of guilt turned to anger. No, she wasn’t totally to blame. She’d made some questionable decisions, but the worst ones that set everything in motion? Those weren’t her. She wasn’t taking the full blame.
Screw Fedor.
She couldn’t believe she’d actually agreed to marry that corrupt excuse for a man. The last six months were surreal and looking back on them was like having an out-of-body experience—one she desperately wanted to forget and erase from her mind. If only that were possible.
There was a knock on the door and she looked up. “Come in.”
Tony opened the door a crack and stuck his head in before walking all the way in. He sat on the edge of the bed, dropping the bag he carried on the floor and resting his elbows on his knees. His hair was damp and he wore clean jeans and a T-shirt, the evidence of his earlier fight gone.
Thank God.
She never wanted to see him bloody and broken again. Part of her died inside when she’d thought he’d been hurt because of her. It turned out she was wrong and he was right—he could take care of himself and wasn’t broken at all.
“How are you?” he asked, his eyes saying so much more than his words.
Tired, heartbroken, guilty. But alive. And so were her friends and family.
And the man she loved was sitting in front of her.
The tightness in her chest loosened. She’d cared about him—probably even loved him—for years. And now she could be honest about it. It was freeing.
She loved Tony.
And more than that, she was falling in love with him.
He cared about her, too. That much was obvious. Talk about surreal.
“Okay, all things considered,” she said. “I’m more worried about you.” Her eyes landed on his arms. No, he definitely wasn’t broken, but maybe a little bruised.
The edge of his mouth quirked up as Tony gestured to the marks on his forearms. “This? This is nothing.”
Remembering the blood-covered shirt that he wore earlier, Ginny gave him a bland look. “If that’s nothing, then I’d hate to see what you consider something.”
“You should have seen the other guy.”
Ginny smiled, but Tony’s attempt at humor fell flat. She couldn’t laugh about this. Not yet. “Where did you go?”
He’d taken longer than it should have for him to just run to his apartment.
“To my parents’ house. I needed to confront my father and give him a chance to the do right thing.”
“Of course you did.” Ginny understood perfectly. Wasn’t that why she hadn’t turned Veronica over to the cops? Well, that and the fact that she personally didn’t have the evidence, so she didn’t know for sure what the truth was.
But what would the right thing be in Veronica’s case? She couldn’t go back and undo what she’d done. There was no way to make it right. The best she could do was turn herself in and accept punishment for killing her husband. Premeditated murder. That was such a loaded term, but that’s what it was.
Unless there was another reason. Perhaps he was abusive or . . . something. Yet, though Ginny wanted to believe her sister wasn’t a cold-blooded killer, even she couldn’t convince herself that sweet, mild-mannered Barry was abusive.
“I sent my mom and Nonna out of town,” he said. “They’re leaving tomorrow.”
“That’s smart,” Ginny commented. “I’m glad you did that.”
Neither commented on what he didn’t say—if his father was going to do the right thing. They both knew he wasn’t. But at least Tony’s conscience could be clear when all was said and done. He’d tried.
Ginny wondered if she could convince her parents to take a trip, but nixed the idea before it even fully formed. They didn’t have the money for a vacation, her father needed to keep the company afloat until Ginny could come back, and her mother was in the middle of preparing for a big art show. No, she wouldn’t be able to convince them to leave, not unless she told them the truth. And even then, it was doubtful. They wouldn’t leave Ginny to fend for herself.
And when she told them about Veronica . . . that was a when, not an if. Ginny couldn’t keep that secret. It would come out, probably soon, and Ginny wanted to tell her parents before they heard it on the media.
Tony stared down at the ground, his shoulders slightly slumped—probably from the weight of all he’d been carrying the last few days.
She observed his profile—the strong line of his jaw, his biceps that were flexed from his arms being bent, his hands, strong and capable. As she soaked up every inch of him, waves of emotion slammed into her.
Fear. Longing. But most of all, hope.
Now that she had Tony, she realized just how alone she’d been the past few months. She’d had no one on her side. She’d had no one to confide in, no one to help her achieve the clarity she needed to make the right decisions.
But now she was seeing clearly. And her future was right in front of her—all six-foot-something sexiness of him. He took her breath away. Not just because of the desire she felt for him, but because of everything he was.
She released her knees and crawled toward him. She sat, her legs tucked under her, and ran her fingers along the red marks on his temple that weren’t there this morning. Had it just been earlier today that they’d first made love? Years—no, decades had passed.
She touched her mouth lightly to his, lingering there to feel the softness of his lips.
She reached down for the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it up. As he raised his arms, the muscles in his side rippled. The sight sent a jolt of heat to her core.
She tossed his shirt on the floor and straddled him, pressing her lips to his. Her teeth nipped at his lower lip. He yanked on her shirt and seconds later it joined his on the floor.
Through his jeans, she could feel his hardness and she ground herself against him. He groaned, taking
her full breast in his hand. Her nipple hardened to a peak and she titled her head back. He ran his tongue along her throat.
She fumbled with the button of his jeans. Taking her lead, he lifted her off his lap and laid her on the bed. She watched as he stripped off his pants—the view his tall muscular body was enough to make her desire ratchet up a notch.
But it wasn’t just his impressive physique—it was him. The tender way he looked at her, the gentle way his hands caressed her skin, the care he took with her body and soul.
She wanted more than that, though. They’d both just escaped dangerous situations—maybe even death—and she needed to feel alive.
He rested his hands on either side of her, supporting his weight as his tongue teased hers. She pulled him toward her, then rolled with him so they were laying on their sides, the lengths of their bodies pressed together.
Her hands traveled all over his skin. He tugged on her pants, inching them down. Agony. Too slow. She pulled them the rest of the way off, along with her panties.
“Ginny,” he breathed. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” She pulled his face to his, swallowing the last of his words. He made her feel like a goddess, worthy of worship.
His fingers found her folds and stroked, tantalizing her clit until she had trouble breathing.
She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and pulled his hand away. “I want you inside me. I want to come with you inside me.”
He produced a condom and she took it from him, then rolled the latex onto his length. She straddled him, leaning down to kiss his mouth.
His fingers danced across her back and she arched, bringing her opening into contact with him. He guided himself to her entrance and she lowered herself slowly onto him.
She laced her hand with his to brace herself, then worked her hips, setting the rhythm.
Her eyes locked onto his and her heart clenched at the love she saw there. Neither one of them had said the words, but words weren’t necessary.
He used his free hand to massage her clit and she spread her legs wider, pressing down harder onto him. He hit just the right spot inside her and she cried out as a wave of pleasure hit her.
Hold You Close Page 21
