“Not funny,” she groused. At least she wasn’t ticklish.
Ian nibbled the curve of her hip.
She would have pressed her thighs together if his body weren’t between her legs.
“I’m going to taste you, and then I’ll fuck you, if you’re nice.”
He was—what?
“Ian!”
“What?” He grinned up at her, rubbing his chin against her hip.
What exactly did taste mean? Could they just skip to the being nice part?
“Relax. Enjoy it. I know I’m goin’ to. You left before we got to this part last time.”
The man had to have batteries somewhere. Did he never stop? And how was she supposed to relax?
His mouth trailed kisses from her hip to her mound.
Oh, God...
Ian thrust his fingers into her. She lifted her hips, sucking in another deep breath.
This was okay. She liked his—
Fuuucckkk.
Her eyes rolled back up into her head. Warmth enveloped her, gentle vibrations sent tendrils of arousal snaking through her body, mixing with lust. She tipped her head back and blindly groped for the headboard. Something—Ian—rubbed against her clit. Was that his tongue?
He pumped his fingers deep inside of her. It wasn’t his cock, but damn.
That felt good.
She forced herself to relax her thigh’s death-grip on his shoulders, giving Ian freer movement. He squeezed the back of her leg with his hand and hummed against her mound. She gasped and curled her toes into the sheets.
It was different. Good? She couldn’t think. Could barely process.
Against her better judgment, she opened her eyes—and found Ian staring up at her. Once more, he wasn’t just looking at her, he was looking deep into her, past the skin and he wasn’t stopping. Whatever he saw in her, it didn’t scare or disgust him.
“Oh—Ian. Ian, stop.” She fisted the sheets.
If he kept going...
He stretched her more, twisting his fingers inside of them. He suckled her clit.
She opened her mouth to warn him, to tell him to stop, but all at once her vision blurred and her body tensed. Ripples of pleasure blinded her. She slid her feet down, then back up. She grasped him by the hair and bucked her hips, but he stayed with her, riding the orgasm.
The man’s name turned into a keening wail.
She grabbed the pillow next to her and covered her face, drowning out the sound.
Ian crawled up her body, his mouth never leaving her skin. He yanked the pillow aside, grinning at her.
“We’re just gettin’ started.”
Oh, dear. Those words sounded like a threat.
The need coiled deep in Taylor’s body was sharp. One orgasm had only increased her desire, not sated it.
She clawed at his shoulders, pulling him down. She bit his lip and thrust her tongue into his mouth.
His cock rested against her hip, hard, long, and hot now. She wrapped her hand around him and squeezed, just a bit. Ian groaned into her mouth. His hand covered hers and he pumped into her grasp.
Taylor planted her other hand on his chest and pushed.
“Now,” she said.
“But the appetizer’s not done yet.”
“Ian.”
“Fine.” He buzzed her nose with a gentle kiss, and bounded off the bed.
The cool air was a nice contrast to her heated flesh. She palmed her breasts, the memory of his touch, his mouth, recent enough she could almost imagine it was him there.
“Keep doin’ that.”
“Hm?” She opened her eyes, peering down the bed at Ian ripping a condom off a strip.
He ripped the packet open. She caught her nipples between her fingers, recalling all too well what his teeth felt like. Little love bites, nothing too hard, but damn.
Maybe she was secretly lucky he’d found her again, before it was too late.
Ian rounded the bed, his latex-covered cock jutting toward her.
Yeah, lucky. She’d go with that.
He grabbed her by the ankle and pulled her legs off the mattress. She squealed and grabbed the sheets. Or tried to.
Ian grasped her by the hips and rolled her. She hit the mattress belly first and grunted.
Before Ian, she’d have said she didn’t like being manhandled, but when he did it...things only got hotter.
“Stop squirmin’.” He pinched her butt.
“Hey.” She kicked her foot up, bumping his shin.
“I’m warnin’ you, do that again and I’ll spank ya.” He laughed, which made his threat less scary.
Everything with Ian was about pleasure. She’d never met a man who was so focused on making her feel good.
He palmed her bottom with both hands.
She peered over her shoulder at him. The bathroom light and lamp gave off plenty of light to see him by. His smile was pure seduction.
He slid his cock through her folds. She groaned and pushed up on her tiptoes, seeking a deeper touch. Needing it now.
“You want it?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Damn, not playin’ coy at all, are you?”
“I wasn’t going for hard to get.”
“That’s what I like about you. You aren’t shy about what ya want.”
She opened her mouth to reply and groaned instead.
He pressed into her, his girth stretching her vaginal muscles. She fisted the sheets and buried her face against the mattress.
“God damn, you feel good.” His voice was strained.
Ian’s hand splayed against her lower back, holding her in place. He stroked in and out, easing deeper into her body, not at all hurried. There was no race to orgasm. It was as if he set out to savor every second, each inch of flesh.
She pushed up on her toes again, but couldn’t move much.
He slid deep, fitting their bodies together. He leaned over her, kissing her spine and then her shoulder.
“I’m tryin’ to be easy here,” he said against her neck.
When had she asked for easy?
She lifted her hips and squeezed his cock tight.
“Fuck.” He drew the one word out over several syllables.
Ian slid his hand between the mattress and her body. He cupped her mound, his fingers pressing against her slick skin. She shifted her hips, doing her best to guide his touch. When that didn’t work, she covered his hand with hers.
“Taylor, you’re so fuckin’ wet. Can you feel it?” He followed her touch, letting her show him the circular motion she used to ramp up her own desire.
He bit her earlobe. Not hard, but she gasped at the unexpected nip.
“You’re drivin’ me crazy,” he whispered.
Ian pulled his hand from between her legs and rose over her. He grasped her by the hips, his grip tight.
“You keep doin’ that.” His voice was losing the playful edge, growing rougher.
He pulled almost all the way out, until she could only feel the very tip of his cock within her. He lifted and thrust, driving deep. All the air left Taylor’s body in one whoosh.
He lowered her to the bed, once more withdrawing from her. This time, she was ready for the intrusion. He lifted her, driving deep, taking complete control of their joining. He moved her, thrusting deep, not holding back.
“You still touchin’ yourself?” he asked.
“Y-yes.” Her mind wasn’t in it, but she hadn’t exactly had the thought to stop.
Ian lifted her, driving harder into her. This time, he followed her down onto the bed, pinning her hips to the mattress. She shifted against him, but his movements were too fast and furious. She moaned into the sheets, all presence of mind gone.
His hand pushed hers aside. He rubbed her clit with bold, firm strokes that left no doubt about his purpose.
She knew what was coming. Could feel the cresting wave sweeping her along with it.
Taylor sucked in a breath.
The orgasm hit her all at once,
an overwhelming sensation of flying and drowning. She groaned, vaguely aware of Ian’s movements over her, in her, drawing the pleasure out longer. He lifted her hips again, and again. She whimpered, curling her toes and holding on until he slumped over her, wrapping his body around hers.
Holy hell.
It still wasn’t a dream.
She’d halfway begun to wonder if her mind had supplied fantastical elements of their night together, but no. That was just Ian.
Maybe it was her experience with men that was the problem. She’d grown up in a world dominated by men. What they wanted. How they wanted it. Ian was...he was still that alpha personality, but there was a kindness in him that she’d never known before.
She turned toward him, burying her face against his chest, smelling the scent of rain mixed with sweat.
What she wouldn’t give to have been born into a different family or world. One where she could be like Ian. Where being around her didn’t put others in danger, too.
The safety Ian’s arms provided her with was an illusion. He couldn’t save her. No one could, but at least, for tonight, she could pretend.
6.
Ian stirred in his sleep. A chill had snuck under the covers. He reached for the warm body next to him, and just kept reaching.
The door thumped shut.
He opened his eyes, greeted by deep darkness, and listened.
No breathing.
But the sheets next to him were still warm.
Ian glanced at the clock.
Just after four.
Taylor was gone again.
He’d thought this time might be different. That she might last the whole night. Her room was down the hall. It wasn’t like she had anywhere she had to be this early. So, was this her routine? Did she seek out men, have sex, and then leave them? Or was this because he was who he was? Had he missed something about her?
Ian rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.
She’d smiled. She’d pulled him closer. He’d been sure he’d broken through with her. But actions spoke louder than words.
Taylor still ran from him.
She didn’t trust him.
Why?
She’d seek him out for pleasure, let him strip her down to nothing, but she couldn’t tell him why she was scared?
What was she hiding? What had he missed? Was he falling for an act?
Finding anything out about Taylor, her past, would take a Herculean effort. Running a background check only returned so much information. What if he was letting himself be blind to her true nature?
His gut said she was innocent, but what if he was wrong?
What if she was using him?
He knew she was hiding something. She’d admitted it. But still, his instinct told him she was innocent.
He automatically wanted to reject that idea, but he had to look at it closer. What if she’d come to him—knowing their history—in an attempt to put him off looking deeper into her history?
Good people still did bad things.
What did he know about her? She was a former teacher who fell on hard times. She’d become a nanny. She was originally from New York. And...that was it.
Why would someone move across the country, away from family and friends, to be an assistant-slash-nanny? Who was Taylor running from? Was she trying to protect someone? What if she’d simply made a string of bad choices and caught a streak of poor luck?
George was up to something. Ian didn’t buy that he was simply trying to minimize the impact threats would have on a government deal. Whatever George was really doing, Ian feared it would endanger Stacey and Taylor.
Ian swung his legs out of bed and sat up. He’d salvaged his phone from his wet jeans earlier and plugged it in. He checked messages first, wincing at three texts from Zain.
Well, if his new boss was up, might as well get this over with.
Ian shot off a text and shuffled out of bed.
Taylor’s clothes were gone and there was no evidence of her having been there at all. Not even a wash cloth.
Ian’s phone vibrated.
“Up early,” he said by way of a greeting.
“What the fuck, Ian?” Zain sighed. “This was supposed to be a one day, two tops, consulting gig. How did you mess that up?”
“He asked me to stay on for a week or two.”
“Yeah, and judging by your assessment, that’s not a good idea. Any one of his employees could be trying to extort money from him. I mean, you read those background checks, didn’t you?”
“Aye, I did. He has a little girl, Zain. Her mom died last year. Before that, he hadn’t seen her in months. Maybe a year.”
“Do not tell me you’re doing this because of a kid...”
“Somethin’s happenin’ here. I don’t know what, but I mean to find out.”
“We aren’t the cops, Ian. I know you want to do the right thing, but...”
“I already signed the contract. Worst case scenario, I’m here for two weeks. He’s still payin’ us double.”
“Shit. Really?”
“I can haggle.”
“Well, damn.” Zain sighed.
They both knew the fledgling arm of the company could use the extra cash.
“The way I figure it, you need me out of the way for a while. Until the social media shit dies down, I’m no use doin’ anythin’ but this.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
“Also...” Ian braced one hand against the door.
“What?”
“There’s a girl.”
“The daughter? Or an older girl?”
“No, I mean...this girl I met at the pub some time back. She works here.”
“And let me guess, you have history. Christ, Ian. You should have stopped with the money.” Zain sighed. “What about her?”
“I need you to dig around a bit. Somethin’s not right. My gut says she’s in over her head.”
“Of course. Because there’s always a damsel in distress these days. All right. Send me her stuff, I’ll take a stab at it.” Zain hung up without more discussion. Besides, the contract was already signed and the deposit paid.
If Zain couldn’t turn over some new leads on Taylor, they didn’t exist. Ian would keep his distance from her until he knew more, until he could be more objective. After all, it was pretty obvious that when it came to her, his head wasn’t screwed on straight. She had him all wound up and tied in knots. He just hoped his gut was right and that Taylor wasn’t a wolf in sheep’s clothes.
Julia drew circles on the glass of ice water.
She shouldn’t have to do this herself. It grated that people didn’t give her the same amount of respect as her dead husband. If he were around and Taylor had pulled this stunt, all he’d have had to do was snap his fingers and those who’d helped her escape would be thrown on the carpet, begging for their lives.
When she found Taylor...
“Mrs. Lucchese?” The host gestured at an older man with gray, thinning hair, wearing a threadbare suit. Tommy Gigante was a peddler of fake IDs and papers. Not even a particularly good one, but he could do a job.
“Thank you.” She gave the host a smile. The restaurant was a fixture in their circles. Several heads of families dined here regularly, and it would do her good to be seen here and well received.
Tommy grasped the seat back across from her and pulled it out.
“I never invited you to sit,” she said, letting her voice go cold.
“You invite me to lunch, what am I supposed to do? Stand?”
She bit the tip of her tongue. A wise guy, huh? “You did a job for my husband’s daughter,” Julia said.
Tommy said nothing.
It was a shame she couldn’t do something about the blatant disrespect. The times had changed in many ways, but this one wasn’t for the better. A bullet in someone’s knees did a lot for reminding people of the order of things.
“Let me make myself perfectly clear, Tommy.” Julia peered up at the man. “You’re
going to tell me about this job.” She held his gaze, willing him to read the implied threat.
She was a Lucchese. It might not be one of the fabled five family names, but it wasn’t all that long ago when people were murmuring about her husband’s rise in the family.
“Yeah, I might remember a job like that.” Tommy squinted at the wall. “She wanted a driver’s license. But it was the same as the one she already had. I didn’t make no changes.”
That couldn’t be right.
Julia had her men searching everywhere for Taylor. What kind of game was she playing?
“Can I go now?” Tommy asked.
“What name did she give you?”
“Taylor Carter.”
Oh, the sneaky little bitch.
“Go.” Julia flicked her fingers.
Taylor had taken on that miserable man’s last name during their brief marriage.
Cartwright.
Not Carter.
Julia was willing to bet that Taylor had tricked Tommy, obscuring her real name for the fake one.
She was one step closer to figuring out just where Taylor was, and when Julia found her, she’d take great pleasure in recovering her stolen property.
Ciro Merlino tapped at the laptop keys.
Julia paced at his back, a caged tiger hungry to pounce.
Ciro had worked for several capos over his career in the mafia, but never one like Julia. Her husband had been a real piece of work, a forward-thinking guy with a mind for business. But that was only after Julia stepped into the shadows behind him. Ciro had always pegged her for the brains behind the former Mr. Lucchese’s success. With a woman like that behind him, who could get in his way?
There were few women in their organization, and the heads of the families still didn’t quite know what to make of Julia, except that she kept the money coming in and business operating smoothly. The difference was that Julia was far more bloodthirsty than her husband had been. Without his tempering hand there to guide her, she was likely to draw blood from the wrong person.
The way Ciro saw it, if they could put these files back, if Julia could last a little longer in her seat of power, her star would rise. And with her, everyone under her would profit.
“Done.” Ciro sat back.
“Did you send it?”
“Not yet.” He handed Vito’s phone to her. “I thought you’d like to do the honors.”
Alpha Prince (Twisted Royals, #1) Page 5
