Covet (Beautiful Sinner Series Book 2)

by Elena M. Reyes

  My hope is that it’s Casper, but as I look through the peephole, I realize it’s a woman. She’s dressed in black and looking straight ahead, letting me take in her face without her knowledge.

  Light complexion, jet-black hair, and high cheek bones. Her lips are also in a bright shade of red.

  I’ve never seen her before, and I open the door. “May I help you?”

  “Aurora Conte?” she asks, and the second I nod, the woman brings her badge into view. She’s BPD and at once I’m fully alert. “I’m detective Corrine Santos and I have a few questions for you. Do you have a few minutes?”

  “Sure.” I step to the side, giving her room to enter. “Come inside.”

  “Thank you.” Officer Santos crosses the threshold, then waits, following me into the living room a minute after and then taking a seat on the oversized chair. I take the loveseat. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything, and I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me.”

  “No problem.” Grabbing the afghan from the back of the couch, I lay it over my lap. “I’m sorry, but why are you here again?”

  “I have some questions regarding your relationship with a Matteo Cancio.”

  “You mean my father.” My conversation with Samantha comes to the forefront of my mind. Once again, she wasn’t lying.

  “Yes, your father.” Pulling a small recorder from her blazer, she gives me a smile. “Do I have your permission to record this conversation?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you understand that anything you say can be used as evidence in a criminal investigation.”

  “Yes.”

  “Great. Let’s begin.” She crosses her legs and sits a bit forward, keeping her eyes on mine. “Once more, how do you know Matteo Cancio?”

  “He’s my father.”

  “But do you know him personally? This is a yes or no question, Miss Conte.”

  “He’s my father.”

  Her eyes narrow a bit and lips thin. “What was he like as a father.”

  “Absent.”

  “And his relationship with your mother?”

  “Is none of your business.”

  “Miss Conte, for this to work I need you to answer—”

  “Why are you really here?” For a split second there’s a bit of worry, a hint of fear, but she schools her expression quickly. This is all beginning to smell fishy. “What are you looking for?”

  “I’m sorry...” she gives me what she thinks is a sincere smile “...but that information is pertaining to a criminal investigation and I can’t divulge.”

  “Then I see no reason for you to be in my home, and this is where I ask you to leave.”

  “You need to answer my questions.”

  “No. I don’t.” At my response, she clenches the hand in her lap; her entire posture stiffens. “Leave.”

  “I can charge you with—”

  “Nothing, Officer Santos. I have broken no laws, and at the moment, I feel as though you’re harassing me. Leave my home and stay away, or I will place a formal complaint with your department regarding this visit and your treatment.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “That’s a promise.” Standing from my chair, I calmly walk over to the front door and pull it wide open. She follows a minute later, an angry expression on her face. “Have a good day.”

  Officer Santos walks by me and out the door but pauses a few steps from me. She doesn’t turn around. “Be very careful with the company you keep, Aurora. You’re walking a fine line between loyalty and stupidity. Don’t get caught on the wrong side of this war.”

  29

  I SMOOTH OUT my dress and blow out a breath.

  I’m happy. I need to be happy for my cousin who’s getting married in a few short hours, and although my heart hurts and I’m inexplicably jealous, I’ll put on a brave face and smile for the cameras. I’ll say the right things and be giddy, but I can’t help but think back on what I never truly got to enjoy.

  It’s been months since Casper looked at me the same way, since I’ve seen him.

  Sure, the jerk has left me roses and notes, but that’s it. Nothing more. No more visits or calls letting me know he’s never too far.

  Why does he decide to listen to me now and give me the space I asked for?

  “Roe-Roe!” London squeals as she wraps her arms around me. The hold is tight and near suffocating, but it does the job of erasing the sudden pang in my chest the thought of him brings. All the darkness is washed away by the happiness London soon-to-be Asher exudes.

  “Hey there!” I am blown away by the smile on her face and I find myself matching hers. It’s contagious. So honest.

  “You ready to meet your date?” London asks with a waggle of her eyebrows, but then she’s looking past me and a hint of blush appears on her cheeks. My money is on Mr. Asher being close by.

  I roll my eyes, suddenly regretting that I agreed to this. “Yeah. Fine. Where is he?”

  “Right here,” a low rumble of a voice says with that British accent that makes my knees go weak and I turn, losing the very breath in my lungs at the sight of him. In a suit. Hair perfectly styled. With that hellish five o’clock shadow that I miss between my thighs.

  Christ, woman. Get a hold of yourself.

  In the distance, someone calls for London and I hear her say something to me, but I can’t make out the words. I’m trapped, lost in the man in front of me. In the sudden burst of desire that ignites at his mere presence. That won’t let me go.

  Of course Casper and Malcolm would know each other. Two peas in a criminal pod.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, my brow furrowed, inconspicuously trying to take a step back and create space between his body and mine.

  He glances over toward Malcolm and London before reaching out and taking my hand. “Come,” he says, pulling me away from the rest of the bridal party. Casper doesn’t stop until we reach an empty corridor, away from prying eyes and ears.

  Once there, I pull my arm from him and cross them over my chest. “What do you want?”

  “We need to talk, Gem.”

  “Why now, Casper? Where have you been?”

  “I’ve been trying to give you space,” he says, and it holds a hint of bitterness. As if he hated doing so. “To not overwhelm you, but I miss you, Gem. I’m sorry if you’re angry with me—”

  “You know where I live.”

  “Yes, but I’ve been unable to come. I’m wrapping things up.”

  “Then call.” It’s simple. He has ways to do so.

  A flash of annoyance crosses his features. “You changed your number.”

  “I know you could have gotten my new number if you tried.”

  “If you wanted me to have it, you would have contacted me.”

  “That didn’t stop you last time.”

  A chuckle leaves him. “No, I suppose you’re right.” He steps forward then and rests his hands on my hips, fingers digging in. The fire from his touch seeps through my skin and into my muscles, and even though I shouldn’t, I relax into him, my hands finding purchase against his chest.

  “I was away for too long, but I swear it’s for the last time.”

  “Months,” I seethe, even as I draw closer to him. I ignore how he says it’s the last time, because I don’t want to believe what I know will be nothing more than another broken promise.

  “Roe-Roe, where are you?” London calls out and I force myself to step away, my eyes never leaving Casper’s.

  We return to the group and go through the motions, my heart skipping when I wrap my arm around his and we walk down the aisle together. Each step the need for him grows. Each moment near him weakens my resolve to stay away.

  To not let him in.

  When the schedule for the next day is gone over and we disperse, the group all in a chatter as we depart to dinner, I fall silently behind with Casper right next to me. When they turn right, I go left, and still, he follows. And when I stop to demand he quit playing with m
e, Casper spins me around and I fall into his chest. A low growl rumbles beneath my hands, but I barely get a squeak out before his lips crash to mine. Hands grip, digging in, pulling me closer as he kisses deeper. Breath leaves me and I fight to control the kiss, which only makes him fight harder.

  “You’re mine, Gem. Will always be mine.”

  “You look beautiful, cousin. The bracelet from Grandma Isadora looks perfect,” I say from behind her, watching with amusement as she adjusts the crown Malcolm demanded she wear again. He was adamant on this; no veil or anything that would cover her face because in his words: his queen never hides. But then again, London loves his obsession with her. How much he wants her and shows it without a single ounce of shame.

  The place or time doesn’t matter.

  “Thank you so much for coming, and for this.” Lo-Lo lifts her wrist and inspects the delicate tennis bracelet with diamonds and sapphires throughout. It’s her something borrowed and blue. “Having a piece of the family to wear today means more than you’ll ever know.” She turns to face me then and does to me what I find myself doing all the time. It’s crazy and wonderful how much we look alike. To take in the familial resemblances after spending so much time alone without knowing the other existed. “It means a lot that you could make it. That you wanted to do this.”

  “I’m going to flick you if you thank me again, chica. Stop it.” My eyes are watery and my bottom lip trembles a bit.

  “Ass,” London mutters in the same emotional tone, but before we ruin our makeup, I smack her arm.

  “Dork.”

  “You bruise me, and you’ll deal with Malcolm.”

  In the last few months since we connected, if she says something like this, I laugh and hit her again.

  Our relationship is very sibling like.

  Like what I’ve missed out on my whole life.

  Which brings forth questions that have been plaguing me for a few days now.

  How long have they known each other?

  How well does London know him?

  Is that why they want to hook me up with him?

  “What gives? What’s with the look?”

  “How well do you know his groomsmen?” I ask, keeping my expression as neutral as possible.

  “Which one?”

  “British and a complete lying asshole.” Christ, I suck at this. How could I just blurt that out? Get a hold of yourself. She’ll put two and two together.

  “Casper?” she asks, thrown off by my yo-yoing change in demeanor. From almost weepy to hormonal in the blink of an eye. I need help. “Did he do something to you?”

  “Other than exist?” And because I’m certifiable, I nod with an added huff for good measure. Is this what an out-of-body experience feels like? My curiosity is going to get me in trouble if I don’t shut up. “We don’t click.”

  Lies. All lies.

  The way he grabbed and kissed me—full of passion and need—after the rehearsal dinner in an empty corridor re-confirmed this.

  I can’t escape him. I want him.

  “Why? Do I need to involve—”

  “No. It’s me.”

  “Do you like—”

  “I’m coming in,” Malcolm calls out through the door a second before barging in, and I thank Jesus above for this interruption. The groom has the most amazing timing, and as he takes her in, I know I’m going to be asked to leave, something I’m internally doing the Nae Nae over. Thank you and amen. “Aurora, we need a moment before the ceremony. Please find Casper and let him know I’ll be down soon.”

  I’m already fluffing my hair before the last word passes through his lips. “Of course. Just behave, kiddos. Leave the fun stuff for after…” I trail off, heading straight for the door because while I adore them both, I’m not trying to see what comes next.

  “Oh, God!”

  London moans before the door is fully closed and yup. Just say no.

  Nervous butterflies overtake me as I lift a hand to knock on the door of the men’s dressing room. I know he’s there. I can feel him near.

  Sense that overwhelming electrical current that flows through my limbs each time we’re near. It’s palpable. Heart thumping.

  My thighs clench, and I place my knuckles on the wooden door to hold myself up. I don’t knock, not yet, but as if sensing me too, Casper swings the door open.

  And then, I’m tumbling right into his arms. Feeling whole again.

  “Get in here.” His voice is gritty. Holds a tinge of near demonic desperation that makes me whimper, and I move closer to his body. Chest to chest. His hard cock against my mound.

  I can’t help myself. I can’t stop this.

  At that moment, I thank the inventor of the high heel for making me the few inches taller I need to enjoy this. To feel him throb, pulsing against me where I’m longing to have him again.

  “Please.” That one word from my lips and his pupils dilate, lids becoming heavy as he sees just how much I missed him, too. How my own hunger matches his.

  Then my feet are off the ground and my dress rides up, bunching around my hips as he lifts me with one arm beneath my butt. This puts him right there, my wetness to his tuxedo-covered cock, and my legs go around his waist to hold him tight.

  So I can gyrate softly.

  So I can quell some of this mounting heat burning me from the inside.

  Casper lets out a curse and pivots us both, my back slamming against the door. “I’ve missed you,” he whispers low, but to me, it’s as if the man shouted it from the rooftops. Our faces come closer and those lips I’ve missed so much hover over mine. They sweep gently across once and then pull back, tempting with his denial, until I can’t take it anymore and I’m the one that caves.

  I submit. I can’t fight this anymore.

  Embedding my fingers in his hair, I yank his mouth to mine and let go. I just let go.

  He has me. Always will.

  Thank God this room inside the church is empty because we can’t control ourselves. The bubble of lust we’re trapped within squeezes tighter, so tight that as his hands wander lower, I begin to shake. As he fists the back of my lace thong and pulls, ripping the fabric in pieces, I moan. That the moment two of his fingers swipe over my wetness, I come for him.

  It’s automatic and wild and I can’t breathe.

  I can’t focus on anything but his harsh breathing against my neck as I throw my head back with eyes closed. Savoring. Letting the relief wash over me while I whisper his name like a sacred mantra.

  “Fuck, Gem. Give me more, baby,” he rasps, nipping my collarbones while a hand takes hold of my hip, anchoring me to the wooden surface. “I want to walk down that aisle with your scent all over me. Marking me.”

  “Oh God.” Another harsh shiver and I’m panting. I can’t think as the world around us fades and the pleasure overtakes my senses. That is until he’s right there.

  His flesh on mine.

  His cock against my entrance.

  Just there. Not moving.

  When he pulled himself out, I have no clue, but bless him for being coherent when I’m not. In that moment, I’m useless. His to enjoy. His to take.

  And I want it that way. Crave it more than I thought could be possible.

  Casper slips the head inside and it’s like breathing again after being deprived of sustenance for a long period of time. Another inch and I cry out, fingertips tugging on fistfuls of hair as my body arches, fighting his tight hold on my hips.

  “Tell me you want me. That you need me,” he demands and pulls out. My eyes narrow and my lips part, the expletives sitting on the tip of my tongue, but they die down when he pushes forward, sliding the bulbous tip through my folds and over my clit. “Say the words and I’ll fuck you...break you...then when you let go, I’ll put those beautiful pieces back together again.”

  To anyone else those words would be demanding and forceful, but the look in his eyes tells a different story. This man is barely holding on to his sanity. Showing me his weakness; my hold
on him.

  “From the very beginning, it’s always been you. I just want you.”

  “Christ, I need you. We can’t be apart for so long again...I don’t function that way.” I want to tell him that I feel the same, that I agree, but before I can, he slams in to the hilt in one smooth stroke. His hips are punishing, bouncing me on his cock at a rapid pace, and I can’t do anything but hold on and let him.

  My hands fall from his hair and my head bangs against the door, the sound loud. “So good. Always so good.”

  “Shhhh.” He nips my chin and the action brings his chest against mine. This changes the angle of his thrust and I clench down hard, moaning out my approval. “Quiet, Gem. Or do you want everyone outside this room to hear how much you love my cock? How much of a filthy little girl you are.” He doesn’t realize how I love his dirty mouth. How wet hearing him talk makes me. “Fuck, baby. You like that, don’t you. Like the thought of being caught.”

  “No,” I whimper out, fighting against his hold. Wanting to move but can’t.

  He places his hand over my neck, gently squeezing. “Explain.”

  “I don’t care what anyone outside this room thinks, Casper. Truly don’t give a fuck.” His thrusts are languid, savoring, waiting for my explanation—it’s worse than when he lets go. Because right now, as he pulls all the way out and pushes in slowly, I can feel every ridge and the metal of his piercing against my walls. “You make me delirious with need. You make me wet. Your dirty words are what throw me over the edge every single time. Just you.”

  “You’re it for me too.” His hold on my neck and hip tighten, and my body responds with another rush of wetness, coating him. The groan he releases is a delicious torment before he picks up speed, angling my hips while keeping my shoulders on the door by his hold on my neck.

  On the next pump of his hips, I see little white dots dance across my line of sight. He finds that spot, the one that he’s claimed as his, and presses against it with each inward stroke. Hard. Precise. Each stroke holds an edge of pleasurable pain that pushes me headfirst into another orgasm.

  This one is stronger than the last, and a few tears run down my cheeks. “I can’t...oh God,” I whimper into his ear as he envelops me in his arms, pulling me against his chest as he lets go with a hissed fuck next to my cheek.