The thrill of doing something wrong, waiting to be caught in the act, always seemed more exciting than sex. Maybe there was something wrong with me, an inner sickness that I needed to address. For whatever reason, those small victories would get my juices flowing.
We yell-laughed, skirting around innocent bystanders, as we made our victory lap. Oblivious to my surroundings, my celebration ended faster than it had begun as I crashed headfirst into a thick wall of hunky man flesh. It happened so fast that I hadn’t had time to brace myself for impact, doing a half flip along with him. He landed on his back with me face-planting on top of him, my breasts pressed against his chin.
Of all the people to bump into, it had to be Luca Marchese. His cocky grin made my lip curl with revulsion even though he seemed to have the opposite effect on my nipples. One glance from him, and they betrayed me.
“Hey, princess.” His voice was deeper, sexier, than I remembered from class.
I blushed ten shades of pink from my cheeks to my neck, distracted by denim-blue irises set under dark brows. I rolled my eyes, attempting to peel myself off his bare chest, but he grabbed my wrists.
“Not so fast. I think you owe me an explanation.”
“I don’t owe you shit.”
I wiggled free from his grasp, straddling him without meaning to. I held his arms flat against the grass. Our faces were inches apart as I hovered over him, the sexual tension burning between us like a lit match. We shared a short-lived moment until his eyes found my breasts again, and he winked.
“Perv,” I said through clenched teeth.
Lean muscles brushed against my legs as he moved.
“What? You can’t fault me for checking you out”—he tilted his head to the side, his gaze falling over each of my curves—“especially when you’re shoving some of your best features in my face.”
He propped himself up onto his elbow and reached for my waist with his other hand, but I swatted his hand before he could touch me.
“You’re a feisty one. Got a mouth on you, too.” A fire blazed behind those beautiful blue eyes. “What I’d like to do with that dirty mouth of yours,” he said, rolling his tongue over his lip.
Damn, he had nice lips, both full and perfect. Every part of me wanted to lean in and kiss him and shove my fingers through his dark waves. No boy had ever affected me this way. But he was a man, not a boy. With radiant olive skin, chiseled features, and toned in all the right places, he could be a model.
My breath hitched at his comment.
I wasn’t sure, but I swore I could feel his erection pressing against my thigh, which should have freaked me out. Instead, I looked down, irritated that it turned me on more than I cared to admit.
He followed my gaze to his crotch and grinned, confirming my suspicions. “You should come to Delta Sig’s annual beach party. The less you wear, the better.”
“Well, you know what they say. Less is more.” My strange attempt at a joke only fueled the tension between us. “But, no, thanks.”
Tiny bumps ran down my arms and legs, a result of our close proximity. And, of course, he noticed the effect he had on me. He didn’t skip a beat.
Now aware of my body and how it reacted to him, I needed an escape. I stood over Luca, desperate to stop the electricity pulsating through me. Every part of me ached for him, craved his touch. Since I’d knocked him over, I stretched my arm out to help him up, and he accepted. I didn’t have the right to be a total bitch, maybe just a partial one.
Luca wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, the rest of his bare skin glistening in the sunlight. Eye contact proved to be too much for me.
He picked up the pigskin at his feet and pushed a hand through his cropped black hair. Luca had thick hair that moved back into place, like those people in shampoo commercials. With the football held against his hip, he could have been posing for the cover of a magazine, one I would have shamelessly hung on my wall.
I recognized the boy from Broad Street walking toward us in a Phillies baseball jersey. As our eyes met, he folded his arms over his chest.
“You rich bitch,” he said, his voice coming off like a growl. Cold and calculated, his hardened stare was similar to that of a trained killer.
What was it with Philly boys? They were so rough around the edges, like rabid dogs ready to claw their way out of a cage.
Luca pushed me behind him, his hand on my hip, sparking a new level of excitement within me. I damn near salivated on his tan skin as he came to my defense.
“Talk to her like that again, and you’ll be picking up your teeth off the ground.”
The guy moved his jaw back and forth, drawing attention to his cleft chin, and cracked his neck. No way was he close to backing down. Idiot.
“I’ll talk to her however the fuck I want to. Stay out of it. Bitch threw a soda in my car window.”
I slid out from Luca’s shadow and stepped between them. “You almost ran me over. Maybe you should watch where you’re going next time.”
Luca hooked his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get back in your car and forget it ever happened.”
I should have moved because I expected the boy to take a swing. But Luca smelled of sweat and citrus, a delicious combination that made me want to lick his skin.
“She owes me!” he yelled in Luca’s face, pointing at the tiny brown stains on his jersey. “Her soda exploded when it hit my dashboard.”
He was close enough that I got a whiff of stale cigarettes on his breath.
Nothing seemed to faze Luca, not even this crazy person invading his personal space. He took a wad of cash from his pocket, plucked a few twenties from the stack, and threw them at the boy. “There, consider the debt paid. Now, get outta here!” he spoke with a thick South Philly accent.
His over pronunciation of vowels wasn’t what caught my attention though. No, Luca commanded a presence, a sense of authority, that I felt in my bones. He didn’t back down. He just stood there, grinding his teeth together. I looked over my shoulder at Luca’s fraternity brothers huddled around us like an army.
“Keep your bitch on a leash,” the boy said, his body angled toward the street.
With that, I lost my damn mind. As I attempted to lunge at the guy, Luca clutched my bicep, holding me back.
I flicked my fingers under my jaw and smirked at the asshole. “Vaffanculo!”
Most of the time, I cursed in Italian, sort of a habit I’d picked up while growing up at Rinaldi Manor. Swear words sounded better in another language.
Luca laughed, shaking his head at me, intrigued. I stomped off toward Silvia. She was waiting for me with an impish grin, her back resting against a flagpole, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Wow!” Silvia’s mouth dropped open in awe. “That was pretty crazy, huh? And, now, Luca Marchese is over there, defending your honor. Never thought I’d see that.”
I turned around to see Luca with his fists full of the boy’s shirt, and I gulped. Because of my insane outburst, this stranger now had Luca’s fraternity brothers surrounding him. Damn it.
I sifted through the group just in time to hear Luca threatening him. The two of them were going at it in an attempt to counter the other. I had a feeling Luca was not used to anyone challenging him.
“That’s enough.” I touched Luca’s forearm.
He glanced at me. “Not until he apologizes.” He released his shirt and stepped back. He pivoted his foot, half-facing the boy and me, as if torn between where he wanted to be.
At the murderous look in his eyes and the heat behind his words, a strange pulse of electricity situated itself between my thighs. I wasn’t sure if my hands were sweating from the heat or the nervous energy shooting through my entire body.
The fountain girls watched him and studied me, their arms folded across their chests. I felt as though I were under a giant microscope. The vicious daggers these girls shot at me made me wonder if they would tackle me to get to him.
Well, they could have him. Rich assholes like Luca were a dime a dozen at this school. And I’d had my fair share of drama over the years. I didn’t need any more.
When I refused to respond, Luca said, “Bella, he owes you an apology.” He shot the guy a pained expression. “Don’t you? Now, tell her you’re sorry. Nod your fucking head, and spit it out.”
“Don’t call me Bella,” I said, my jaw tensed in anger. “You lost the right years ago.”
“You’re beautiful. I’m just stating a fact, gorgeous.” Luca winked, one side of his mouth turned up into a crooked smile.
He pulled the same Greek-lettered shirt his brothers wore from the waistband of his black basketball shorts. As he wiped his face with it, I couldn’t help but stare.
“Sorry,” the boy grumbled.
Luca folded his arms across his chest, engaged in a stare-down with the crazy person in front of him, before turning toward me. “What kind of man would I be if I let him talk to a woman like that? You shouldn’t settle.”
“I’m not,” I snapped back. “I know how to choose my battles, and this isn’t one of them.” I waved my hand at the stranger. “Apology accepted. Just go!”
Luca cocked an eyebrow at me. The guy might have been an ass for almost running me down, but he did not deserve anything Luca had in mind. I knew all about his family and their connections. If the guy had even a hint of who Luca was, he would have kept his mouth shut. Nobody stepped up to a Marchese unless they wanted to end up at the bottom of the Delaware River. By shooing him away, I might have saved his life without him realizing it.
Smart enough to leave this time, the boy started walking toward his car.
With wide-eyed curiosity, Luca took a step back. “Looks like you owe me now, princess.”
At the sound of his husky voice, I stopped in my tracks. I wasn’t about to owe the son of the most dangerous man in Philadelphia a thing.
His brothers didn’t even pretend not to stare down my shirt, but that wasn’t what angered me.
“I don’t owe you shit.” I crossed my arms over my chest, deciding whether I wanted to walk away. But I could not let him win on principle alone. “How much did you give him? My wallet is in my car.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, unaffected. “You can find another way to show me your appreciation.”
“Che schifo!” I damn near spit on the ground, throwing my hand out at him in disgust.
“Babe, I’m not that bad.” He stared at my thighs and flashed a panty-dropper grin. “Trust me, I don’t repulse you. Not even a little bit.”
I sucked in a deep breath and blew it out my nose. “Think whatever you want. I don’t need your charity. I’m good for it.”
He smirked. “I know you are, princess, but I don’t want your money.”
“Fine,” I huffed, not the least bit entertained. “I guess I’ll have to find another way to pay you back. Come by Mickey’s. I’m going there with some friends later.”
His smile widened. “It’s a date.”
“Nope, not a date. Just paying off a debt. I sure as hell don’t want to owe you of all people anything.” Despite my anger, I felt an odd sense of arousal from this argument.
He stepped forward, his brothers making room for him to pass. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what I mean, Luca.”
He shot me a look, as though I’d piqued his interest. “So, you do remember me.”
“We’ve had, how many classes together? How could I not? No one can miss the skank parade you bring with you.”
His cocky smirk set my skin on fire.
“Don’t think I give a crap about you, you stubborn ass.” I rolled my eyes. “You can go home and stroke your ego, but keep me out of it,” I said, making a jerking motion with my hand.
Luca laughed, but it came out more like a snort. “I can’t wait for tonight. You’re a mystery, Isabella Rinaldi. Always have been.”
I wondered why I’d invited him to the bar with us or why I kept talking to him. Stupidity, I guessed.
A small part of me, the side that had zero willpower, wanted him to do unspeakable things to me. My brain screamed for me to retreat.
“Next time, try not to be such a dick. It’s not flattering.”
He nodded, and then, I spun around and walked away from him.
“What the hell was that?” Silvia skipped across the lawn toward me.
The massive four-story brownstone and the courtyard surrounding it took up the better part of a city block. Strickland University had a beautiful campus. According to the pamphlets, the senior dorm was the oldest and, by far, the most architecturally impressive. The residence hall was split into multiple sections, with walkways that led to each of the wide staircases.
Silvia and I veered toward the right, passing a group of boys jogging. She turned for a second glance, smiling at her usual rugged type. Twenty-four/seven, she had boys on the brain.
Double doors swung open, concerned parents and their children forcing their way through them. A palpable air of excitement radiated off the incoming seniors. It would’ve been nice to have parents who cared enough to help me move. Mine had probably forgotten I was still in school.
I hooked my arm around Silvia’s skinny bicep, leading her into the hall. “We’re meeting the Delta Sig guys at Mickey’s later, so wear something hot.”
She squealed with delight, her elbow digging into my side, as we scooted closer to make room in the crowded hallway. “Yum. I got dibs on Hunter Sterling.”
“The chunky lineman?” I scrunched my nose at her. “He’s all yours.”
Silvia bobbed her head, unaffected by my sarcasm. “You’ve gotta admit, he’s still hot even though he’s gained a few pounds. I mean, how do you not want to grip those arms and straddle him?”
I rolled my eyes and climbed the stairs to our double suite, sliding my fingers up the wooden railing. “I hate rich guys. They’re all cut from the same cloth. Why would you even want him? He’s a total Preston.”
Silvia ducked to the side, trying to avoid a group of girls scampering in our direction. “Maybe, but they’re not like the rest of the frat boys, Izzie Bear. Most of them are from around here, not like those pricks over at the Alpha house with their boat shoes and cardigans. The things I’ve heard about some of the Delta Sig guys, I swear, would blow your mind.”
“I seriously doubt any of them could blow my mind.” Well, maybe Luca could, but I kept that to myself. “Let’s not talk about them. Now that I’m on Luca’s radar, he’s never going to stop bothering me.” I stuffed the room assignment paper in my pocket and pointed at our new two-bedroom suite. “I have a better idea. As soon as we get our stuff unpacked, we should have a little afternoon pick-me-up. Coffee with a little Sambuca sounds good right about now.”
Silvia turned the key and pushed open the door to our room, and we stepped inside. “Nah, Irish coffee all the way, babe. I’ve got a bottle of whiskey in the trunk we can work with.”
I held up my fist, and Silvia bumped hers against it with a goofy smile splayed on her face.
“Cheers to that,” I said, planning to drink away my past feelings for Luca. He broke my heart when we were kids. I wasn’t about to let him do it again.
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Other Titles by Jillian Quinn
FACE-OFF SERIES
Book 1: Parker
Book 2: Kane
Book 3: Donovan
Book 4: Jameson (Pre-Order: July 12, 2017)
Book 5: Dean (September 2017)
CITY OF SINNERS NOVELLA SERIES
Book 1: Teach
Book 2: Sex Therapy
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PHILLY CORRUPTION SERIES
Corrupt Me
Totally Corrupt (TBD)
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Acknowledgments
It takes a team of people to help make a book launch successful, and I have an amazing team that has my back.
Before I thank everyone who works with me, I want to thank my readers. You guys have made this series a success, and because of your love for these characters, I will continue to write about these hockey hotties you love so much. Don’t worry. I write more than hockey. I’m a lover of all sports. I have baseball, boxing, MMA, football, and racing books coming soon. Mark from Corrupt Me and Teach will make a cameo in my baseball series. And, of course, I have more hockey books planned!
I’m also planning a free book that will contain sample chapters of all my upcoming books. It will be available completely for free to newsletter followers.
I want to give a shout out to all my beta readers: Amanda, Payton, Charlotte, and Jamie. You ladies are all rock stars. Thank you so much for taking the time out of your busy schedules to help make my books better. I love getting all your feedback on my work. Most of all, thank you for your friendship.
I also want to thank my ARC readers, the members of my Sinners Sanctuary, and all the bloggers and fans who help spread the love for my books. Your support and dedication mean the world to me.
XOXO,
Jill
About the Author
Jillian Quinn loves Mafia men, sports, bad boys, dirty-talkers, strong female characters, and books with plenty of heat—all of which you will find in her books. When she’s not reading or writing, she is obsessively fangirling over hockey players and can be found wherever she can catch the next hockey game.
Donovan (Face-Off Series Book 3) Page 23
