Take Me Home_A Billionaire Protector Romance

by Summer Brooks

  I heard shouting and gunfire as Anthony’s men moved in. Through the inner door to the apartment, I heard arguing: Gina and Gabriele.

  Gina sounded like she was still putting up a hell of a fight. That’s my girl, I thought.

  I knew it was a little dramatic, but at this point, I didn’t give a fuck, so I did what I wanted and kicked the damn door open.

  “Sorry, honey, I know you said no bar fights,” I said.

  Gina sat on the edge of the couch and glared at me as if to say Did you spend the entire ride over here thinking up that line?

  Maybe I had, but she didn’t need to know that.

  Gabriele looked furious. “You,” he spat, striding over to me.

  Well, okay then. Right to it.

  I actually hadn’t been in a fight since just after graduation when I’d been angry and hadn’t understood fully why. That had been before I’d met Darien and he’d dragged my ass into counseling, and after I’d broken up with Gina so I couldn’t talk to her about it.

  In any case, it had been a good decade.

  But some things you just didn’t forget.

  Like how to read a guy when he was about to punch you. Gabriele’s shifting of his weight onto his left leg told me that he was going to punch with his left hand—the way his shoulder tensed said it was a roundhouse.

  I ducked, hitting him square in the stomach. While he was reeling from that, I did an uppercut to the jaw and then a roundhouse to the temple.

  Gabriele stumbled backwards, growling in pain. Like I’d suspected when I’d hit him the first time, he wasn’t used to hand-to-hand combat the way that I was.

  He lunged at me, managing to tackle me back into the wall. I kneed him in the kidneys, which earned me a whoop from Gina.

  She would never have admitted it, but she sometimes used to love the bar fights and stuff I got into. She had hated drinking beer and she hadn’t liked that I snuck us into bars, but she’d always liked to see me show off my strength.

  Gabriele and I stumbled back into the middle of the room. It was a bit of a flurry, ducking and punching and sucking up some of the blows while dodging others. Gabriele didn’t have the skill, but he was angry and that gave him an edge.

  Lucky for me, I was angry, too. I kept punching, kept at him, because, dammit, I was going to win.

  I grabbed a chair, smashing him in the face. That took Gabriele down onto his ass, scuttling backwards. I advanced on him, wanting to smash his face in—but I held back. If he had the sense to stay down, I wouldn’t do anything more. That was for Anthony to deal with.

  “You okay?” I called to Gina.

  “I’m fine,” she replied, her voice only shaking slightly. “Punch him one more time for me.”

  Gabriele reached towards his inner jacket pocket—for his gun. I kicked out, hitting his arm and sending him flying backwards, tripping over the coffee table.

  By that point, I heard the scuffle between Anthony’s men and Gabriele’s men just outside the door. Gabriele heard it too—I could tell by the way his eyes stopped focusing on me and slid to look over my shoulder.

  I stepped out of the way. The guy had gotten a hell of a beating from me. I figured I could let Anthony take care of the rest.

  My priority was Gina.

  Gina breathed hard, her eyes wide, but she didn’t panic. I could tell that she wanted to, but she wasn’t giving in to it. She just kept her cool and kept her eyes on Gabriele as I walked over to her.

  Anthony sauntered in, his men behind him. He nodded at me, and then went straight for his cousin.

  Yeah, Gina didn’t need to deal with seeing any of that shit. I took her by the hand and helped her to her feet. She seemed okay, but I looked all over for bruises, just to be safe.

  “I’m fine,” she said, reading my mind. “No worse for wear. How’s Tabby?”

  “She’s okay. Shaken up, worried about you. C’mon.”

  I led her out of the apartment and handed her my phone. “You can call her, if you want.”

  Gina assured Tabby that she was fine, that I’d gotten to her and everything was okay and she would explain everything later. I needed to get us out of this building in case more trouble came, like the cops.

  “Just like old times, isn’t it?” Gina asked, laughing a little hysterically. I could see that the adrenaline was wearing off and she was starting to shake a little.

  I pulled her to me and guided her into the elevator. “You mean me beating the crap out of someone? I seem to remember you cheering a lot less all those times.”

  “Well, you didn’t start it this time. You weren’t the one causing the trouble.”

  “We did… have good times, didn’t we?” I asked her as we rode the elevator down. “I know that I was a dick at times. And that it ended on a bad note. But it wasn’t all bad, was it? We were able to have some good times?”

  Gina smiled at me. “Why do you think I stuck around so long? It wasn’t because you were somebody I was trying to save. It wasn’t out of pity. You were sweet. When it was just the two of us, you were a good person and we had good times. It was just… when other people got involved. Or when your dad came up. Then it was a problem.”

  “I’m sorry that I let all of that get in the way.” I cleared my throat. “When I think about… us, back then, if it’s any consolation, I don’t think about the bad parts. I always remember when it was the two of us sitting in the animal shelter playing with the puppies. The long talks we had. That was what mattered to me. We really connected then and that was what… that was why I kept hoping that maybe, someday, we could find that connection again.”

  I winked at her. “Helped that you grew up to be gorgeous, too.”

  Gina laughed, which made the knot in my chest loosen a little. If she was laughing, then she wasn’t thinking about that asshole. “You didn’t turn out so bad yourself. And I was wrong. Those tattoos do still look good ten years later.”

  “You hated when I got them. You kept telling me I’d regret them.”

  “At least you weren’t getting anything too stupid.”

  “You wouldn’t let me.”

  We grew quiet for a moment. Then Gina said, “That was what I wanted. I knew, from the moment this whole… thing started, that you could keep me safe. I knew that. But what I needed to know was that when all this craziness died down, you would still be there for me in the other ways that mattered. The quieter ways. That the boy I talked to wouldn’t disappear when we were around other people.

  “You had so much you felt you had to prove. And I worried… you know, being rich, jet set, that can make you feel like you constantly have to prove something, as well. I didn’t want to find that you were still the same person—angry and competitive—just on a fancier level.” She shrugged. “And. You know. I’m just working in a shelter.”

  I shook my head. “If you think for one second that money has anything to do—”

  “It had to do with why people gossiped about our being together,” Gina pointed out. “That and my looks, but hey, that’s nothing new.”

  “I’m not the way I was before,” I promised her. “Now that this whole… crazy thing is out of the way, I want to show you that. We can go on dates or do it however you want.”

  Gina smiled. “I think you already have shown me that. And honestly, a guy who can take down a mobster? That’s the sort of guy worth holding onto. You never know when the next mafia guy is going to try and date me.”

  I let out an involuntary growl and Gina laughed at me. “You are so predictable.”

  “You,” I warned her, “shouldn’t tease me about things like that.”

  “Well, if I’m not able to laugh about it, what am I supposed to do?” Gina replied. She sighed. “I was scared, Vin. I was so scared. But I knew the whole time that you were going to come and get me.”

  I was bowled over by her faith in me, and glad that I had been able to make good on it. “I’ll always come and get you,” I promised, pulling her in and kissing the
top of her head. “Always.”

  13

  Gina

  My heart was still pounding as Vincent helped me onto his motorcycle. “Take me home,” I told him.

  Vincent nodded. “Will Tabby be expecting you?”

  I shook my head. “No, Vin, I said to take me home.”

  It took him a moment, but I saw once it registered for him what I meant. His eyes darkened and he leaned in, kissing me softly. “Okay.”

  We rode through the dark streets to Vincent’s apartment and I held on as tight as I could. I wanted there to be nothing separating us. I just wanted to be far away from everyone else, with him, knowing that we were together and safe.

  Vincent put his arm around me as we reached his apartment building, nodding at the doorman and the lobby guy as he escorted me up.

  When we got to his apartment and the door closed behind us, my legs nearly gave out on me. “Whoa, there,” Vincent said, helping me over to the couch. “What do you need? Water? Coffee? Something to eat?”

  “You,” I told him, blurting it out before I could get too self-conscious about it.

  Vincent paused. “Are you sure? We could watch some TV, or…”

  “If you don’t want me…”

  “Of course I want you,” Vincent said, and I saw the heat flare in his eyes. “I always want you. But I want to make sure that you’re okay and that you’re being taken care of.”

  I nodded. “I’m sure. I want this. I want you. We can deal with the rest later.”

  Vincent surged forward, kissing me hard and fast, hungry, and I responded eagerly. It felt so good to kiss him after I’d thought that I never would again, that I might never even get to see him again.

  I rose up from the couch, wrapping my arms around him and letting him kiss me as deeply and roughly as he wanted. I could tell that he was as desperate as I was, even though he was trying to hide it for my sake. The fear he must’ve felt this whole time was revealed in the way that he kissed me, fierce and hard.

  Then, barely breaking our kiss, he murmured against my mouth. “God, you have no idea how much I want you. How much I love you.”

  I tugged at his clothes, wanting them off, wanting my hands on his bare skin. Vincent growled, pulling away so that he could tug his shirt off before diving back in to kiss me again. My hands roamed all over his back and chest, my nails scraping lightly over his skin, and I loved the way that he shuddered under my touch. I loved that he was just as responsive to this as I was, that I could drive him as crazy as he made me.

  A hysterical little giggle burst out of me, and I felt Vincent smile into the kiss. “What?” he asked, teasing, helping me out of my clothes.

  “Nothing,” I gasped. “Just—we did it. I thought—I thought we might die, but we did it, and you love me, and—”

  Vincent kissed me, hard and fast. “I’m never letting you go,” he assured me.

  I pulled away from him, grinning. “Then catch me.”

  I raced through the apartment to the master bedroom, laughing as Vincent, cursing, chased me. He all but tackled me onto the bed, scattering kisses down my neck and all over my face as I laughed, trying to fight him off. “Let me finish getting my clothes off!”

  Vincent pulled away, laughing as well, and undid his pants. I loved this, loved that we could be joyful together, that sex could be fun and intense. It showed that we were alive. We were okay.

  I rose up onto my knees so that we were the same height and let him slide his hands over my body while he sucked a bruise into my neck, like he was marking me as his. I shuddered, feeling myself grow impossibly wet.

  Vincent pulled away, turning me around and sliding his hand between my legs. “I don’t think I want to let you out of bed for a week,” he told me. He tangled his hand in my hair and used his grip to pull my head back, kissing me as he circled my clit with his thumb.

  I moaned, grabbing onto him as he slid the tip of his finger into me. Oh, fuck, he was going to tease me, I just knew it. He was going to draw this out as long as he could.

  “Vin,” I gasped as he withdrew his finger and dragged it through my wet folds. “Vin, please, I need you so badly.”

  “But I want to take my time with you,” Vincent replied. “I want to feel you fall apart.”

  He slid his finger inside me properly then, moving it in and out, slow and certain. I remembered the first time we’d done this as teenagers and he’d fumbled, anxious to please. Now he was confident. He knew exactly how to touch me.

  My hips thrust shamelessly, chasing his finger. Vincent wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me against him and pinning me there. I moaned helplessly, frustrated, wanting to move but stuck thanks to Vincent’s strength, unable to do anything but take what he chose to give me.

  He worked me slowly, keeping me hanging on the edge for what felt like an eternity until he slid a second finger in, crooking them just so. I nearly jumped off the bed, my head falling back onto his shoulder as I writhed helplessly.

  Vincent added a third finger, determined to drive me insane, or perhaps to make sure that I was as ready as I could be. I could tell that he wasn’t going to be too gentle with me, and I was glad for it. I didn’t want to be treated like I was made of glass. I could hold my own and I wanted to feel alive, feel our connection.

  “Do you think you can come like this?” he asked, rubbing my clit. “I love watching you orgasm. Fuck, you look so hot. I love making you come undone like that. Can you do that for me, gorgeous?”

  He was moving fast, the slick sound of his fingers moving in and out of me filling the air, and I was on that knife edge of pleasure, and his voice, his words, dark and gravelly and raw, were too much, it was all too much and I, oh, fuck—

  Vincent kept touching me even through my orgasm, not letting me pause for even a moment, until I could feel that pressure building inside me again. I grabbed him and turned around, kissing him fiercely and forcing him to slide his fingers out of me. It was my turn to play.

  I took his cock in my hand, sliding up and down the shaft loosely, just toying with him a little, not really giving him all that he needed. Vincent groaned into my mouth, his tongue stroking in and out with the same rhythm that my hand moved over him. My thumb swiped over the head, and I added a little twist to my wrist that I remembered he’d always loved before. Sure enough, he shuddered in response.

  “When I get inside you,” he growled into my mouth, “I want to see you. I want you on top of me, I want to watch you take all of me inside you.”

  Helpless, enthralled by his words, I nodded. Normally, I would never have agreed to be on top. I was far too self-conscious about myself and my body. But then, I doubted that I would’ve even let myself get this far with anyone else, and this wasn’t just anyone. This was Vincent, who’d always thought I was beautiful, even when I was an awkward teenager. This was Vincent, who’d just started a mafia war for me. Vincent, who loved me.

  I slid on top of him, gasping as he entered me, filled me, stretched me. Being on top meant that I just sank down onto him, no way to avoid taking all of him in, and I lost my breath for a second as I struggled to adjust to the stretch, to how deep he was inside me.

  Once my body adjusted, though, I couldn’t get enough. It felt amazing to be stretched and filled like that. It felt right. I started moving, Vincent responding and beginning to thrust up into me the moment that he felt me get into it, the two of us pulling away and meeting each other, each snap of his hips hitting that perfect spot.

  My mouth fell open as we moved together, my eyes closing, everything narrowing down to where we were joined. I never wanted it to end, wanted to just stay in that moment of pure pleasure forever. Everything, everything from my spine to the very air around us, felt liquid, languid, the two of us the only tangible things left in the universe, the only things that mattered.

  Vincent started to move faster, more erratically, losing his rhythm a little. He took my wrist and guided my hand between my legs. “Touch yourself,” he or
dered hoarsely. “I want to see you touch yourself.”

  I couldn’t resist any of his orders. It was about time I admitted that to myself. I started rubbing my clit, not bothering to tease myself the way that he’d teased me, just desperate to fall over that edge.

  “That’s it,” Vincent said, his eyes dark and hooded as he watched me work my hips and my fingers, pushing myself towards that peak. “Just like that. You have no idea how beautiful you look.”

  Desperate little noises were escaping me, and I could barely stay upright, Vincent inside me the only thing keeping me from utterly collapsing. He thrust up into me, his hands bruisingly tight on my hips, and then shoved himself in one final time, growling as he came inside of me.

  The feeling of him claiming me, taking me like this, knowing how hot he found me—it was all too much. I cried out as I came, my toes curling.

  I gasped, stars dancing in front of my eyes, as I slid off of Vincent and lay down next to him. I didn’t think I’d move for another hour, at least.

  Vincent turned onto his side. In the light from the moon outside the windows, I could make out his form and some of his tattoos, his blue eyes almost seeming to glow. He reached his hand up to trace his fingertips lightly over the lines of my face.

  “You’ll stay, right?” he asked.

  I wondered when it was that the bad boy, the one who’d built his own billion-dollar company and taken on the mafia, had become so hesitant, so unsure. It gave me a rush to feel that power, to know that I was probably the only person who could make him feel that way.

  “Yes,” I promised him. “I’ll stay.”

  Brushing his thumb over my cheek, Vincent sighed. “But just for the night,” he said, a statement and not a question.

  I smiled. “I mean, I might be persuaded to stay a while longer. Or a few nights a week. I can’t go disappearing entirely on my roommate, though. She’s probably worried enough about me as it is.”