Too Wicked to Keep

by Julie Leto

  “Oh, yeah,” he said. “You’re so tight. How does this feel? Right here?”

  He couldn’t go as deep, but with her legs trapped between his, her body tightened and every thrust squeezed maximum pleasure from minimum space. Her clit ignited so that she lost herself in sensations within seconds. She moaned and cried out for mercy, but he gave her none, milking her body until her orgasm consumed her. She clawed at his chest and back while he bathed her in kisses. Only when she shouted out his name in release did he untrap her, bury himself to the hilt and join her in her mindless pleasure.

  Exhausted, she wondered if she’d ever move again—if she’d ever want to move if the promise of this kind of pleasure on a nightly basis was not in her future.

  After a few minutes, he rolled away from her, retrieved a discarded towel and used it to clean her, the soft sensations of the damp towel against her hot center renewing her lust. When he finally lay down beside her, she turned and flung her thigh over his hip, ensuring that he wasn’t going anywhere—at least not yet.

  “I think we forgot something,” he said sheepishly. “I couldn’t wait another minute.”

  She smiled, her body flooded with a kind of warmth that seesawed between love and lust. Five years ago, she had not loved him. Not like this. This was new and powerful and addictive. She wouldn’t be able to go without him, no matter what he might believe about his inability to stay.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “I’ve been on birth control for years. I almost stopped when…” She cut herself off, not wanting to talk about Marshall again when she was wrapped in the arms of the man who’d nearly stolen her from him.

  “When Marshall died? You can talk about him, Abby. He’s a part of you. I’m not jealous.”

  “Not even a little?” she said with a pout.

  “Yeah, maybe a little. Obviously, you had a good life with him. You’d still be having that good life if not for a cruel twist of fate. I want that for you again, I really do.”

  “Do you believe in fate?”

  He shrugged and drew his fingers, including the one that wore the family ring, up and down her arm. “I believe that the world works against us. That you have to grab whatever happiness you can get your hands on for as long as you can, because it won’t last.”

  “Wow,” she said, genuinely caught off guard by his utterly fatalistic outlook. “That’s a sad way to look at things.”

  “Sad? Not at all. It makes you appreciate times like these. It makes you hold them close and milk every amazing minute from them because tomorrow it could all be over. Look at your husband. Do you think he knew how happy he’d made you by forgiving you?”

  She didn’t have to think hard to answer his question. She and Marshall had had this conversation. Once she’d cheated on her soon-to-be spouse, the rules about what they could or couldn’t discuss had flown out the window. They’d talked openly and honestly about everything—including the thrill she’d gotten from Danny’s bold and voracious interest in her that had ultimately caused her to stray. From that moment on, Marshall had stopped trying to hide his emotions, from deep love to untamable lust. The man who hadn’t kissed her until their fourth date and who hadn’t pressured her to go to bed with him until shortly before he’d offered her an engagement ring unleashed his true desires. Every inch of her, body and soul, had felt not only loved and cherished, but also wanted.

  Marshall had raised the bar damned high—but she had no doubt that Danny could surpass him, if only he gave himself the chance.

  “Yes, he knew. And I know he’d want me to have that with someone else. You can’t use him as an excuse not to stay with me, Danny. In fact, I don’t think an excuse exists that I’m going to accept. So,” she said, pressing close and tilting her bottom so that she could feel a hint of a renewed erection against her, “you’re going to have to think of something else. Because I’m not ready to let you go, and if there’s one thing you’ve taught me, it’s that when you want something, you have to take it—whether it’s the right thing to do or not.”

  DANNY FELT LIKE AN IDIOT. In all the disguises and personas he’d adopted over the course of his criminal career, he’d never dressed up like this. Other than a few vague memories of store-bought, glorified garbage-bag Halloween costumes with plastic masks whose eyeholes were either too far apart or too close together, he’d never worn anything this outlandish. But since both of his brothers had sucked it up in order to help Abby and put an end to an old family vendetta, he figured he’d survive. Especially when Abby came around the corner bedecked in a sparkly confection of a dress that made his body yearn for a little more time before they had to leave.

  “Oh, my,” he said on a husky breath.

  The spangles on her dress shimmered in the lights from the hall. She’d decided, in honor of her grandmother, to wear a thirties-style gown that dipped low in the front and lower in the back. Pure Hollywood glamour. The gold silk clung to her skin, precluding the need for undergarments, and as she stared at him from across the room, her nipples puckered beneath the fabric.

  “I hope you have something to wear with that,” he said, hoping she’d pull out a thick down coat or massive fur. Instead, she held up a pearl-white, feathered half-jacket, along with a handheld gilded mask and a glittery purse that dangled on a string of crystals.

  “Will this do?”

  “It will,” he said, unable to stay away from her. He slid his black-gloved hands over her hips and tugged her close. “It definitely will. You might solve all our problems, you know, without a lick of trouble. One glance at you and the old man is going to keel over from a heart attack.”

  “Oh, great, one more thing for me to feel guilty about,” she quipped.

  He moved to kiss her, but the bright red hue of her lips was too perfect to smudge. Instead, he pressed against the small of her back until she arched her body and gave him instant and glorious access to her neck and throat.

  “You can’t help it if you’re beautiful, can you?”

  “I can change into that wicked-witch costume I wore to the children’s charity event four Halloweens ago,” she threatened, but he knew her vanity wouldn’t allow it. He almost called her bluff, but decided they didn’t have the time. Michael and Claire had mapped out a strict schedule, and when it came to work, Danny was nothing if not punctual.

  “No time,” he said, peeling his lips away from the delicious skin between her breasts. “Just put that jacket thing on and let’s go.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  She leaned down and snagged the black mask, cape and flat-brimmed Spanish gaucho hat he’d tossed onto the corner of the bed. Putting down her accessories, she made a show of circling the cape around his shoulders, tying the mask over his eyes and then topping the whole look with the hat. When he glanced in the mirror again, he’d transformed into the perfect representation of the fictional character his family legend had inspired.

  “This is crazy,” he said.

  “He’ll expect it,” Abby assured him.

  “I don’t owe the old man anything,” he argued. “He almost got Lucy and Alex killed. He nearly had me put away in prison for the one crime I didn’t commit.”

  “But in the end, he’s just a deluded old man desperate to help his grandson. And you have a chance to put this bad blood aside and start fresh. If you have to a wear a sexy costume to do it, I think it’ll be worth it, don’t you?”

  Abby slid her hand hungrily up his chest. The lust glittering in her amber eyes made him forget every objection he had to this plan to end the feud with Harris Liebe. Danny would have given up every ill-gotten dime he had if he could stay here with Abby just a few more minutes.

  But minutes would turn into hours and hours into days and days into forever. No matter how deeply she believed that he could somehow stay with her and make a relationship work, Danny knew better. He wasn’t the settling-down type. He wasn’t the marrying type. He was the love-them-and-leave-them type.

  So now
that he loved Abby to the very depths of his soul, it was time to leave.

  “Okay, let’s get this party started.”

  “Definitely,” she said, picking up her accessories. “The sooner we put this mess to rest, the sooner we can get back here and you can show me precisely how talented with the ladies your famous ancestor was.”

  He laughed and crooked his arm to Abby, deciding not to destroy her fantasy just yet. First, he’d get that painting back for her. Then and only then would he break the news that no matter how much he wanted to stay and spend the rest of the night showing her just how much he cared for her, he was leaving with Alex and Lucy on their midnight flight to Madrid.

  While Abby had gone with Claire to troll the Chicago costume shops for the pieces they needed to pull off this scheme, he and Lucy had discussed his options for the future. With her getting out of the fence business for good, he’d lost his desire to continue the cottage industry they’d created together. Truth was, the whole thing hadn’t felt right since his arrest. Sitting in a six-by-six cell with no windows had given him plenty of time to think.

  But as much as he could change his career, he couldn’t change his past. Abby’s life was too high-profile, her good name too important for him to risk her happiness. So instead, he’d accepted Lucy’s invitation to go with them to Europe, and from there, he could decide what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Alex had suggested he take over the security at the House of Aguilar. No one knew better how to keep thieves out than a thief himself.

  The only thing he’d have to learn was how to keep Abby out of his heart.

  17

  THE MINUTE THEY STEPPED OFF the elevator, Danny stopped dead. Abby grabbed him by the hand and pulled him forward, folding her lips inward to keep from dissolving into giggles. Reluctant didn’t begin to describe Danny’s attitude toward wearing the costume, but Michael, standing just inside the door of her building’s lobby, seemed to be having a grand time.

  At the sight of his brother, he’d extended his black cape to its full width, then folded the fabric across his masked face. He looked like a crazy cross between Zorro and Dracula. Claire, standing beside him in a low-cut, hooped-skirt gown that could not have looked any better had it been worn by Vivien Leigh in Gone with the Wind, laughed behind a frilly lace fan.

  Alejandro, whose dark skin and penetrating eyes best portrayed their legendary ancestor, stood with his arms crossed, but a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth and his intense black eyes sparkled within the confines of his mask. When the expression turned predatory, Abby realized Alex wasn’t grinning at Michael’s shenanigans. Lucienne had emerged from the lobby ladies’ room looking every bit the femme fatale—sequined red dress, elbow-length blue satin gloves, her long red hair swirled over her left eye, Veronica Lake–style. Her slim thigh peeked through the hip-height slit in her skirt as she moved across the marble lobby with a slinky sashay that would make the animated Jessica Rabbit damned proud.

  The women were gorgeous. The men were painfully handsome. And though they’d been a family for only a couple of months, the warmth the sons of Ramon Murrieta exuded matched the emotions Abby shared with her parents after nearly thirty years. Maybe it was because they had no secrets from each other. Their strengths, weaknesses, foibles and follies had been exposed for each of them to see.

  And they hadn’t abandoned each other—hadn’t allowed old resentments, fear or past hurts to take apart their haphazard family. Even women as different as Lucienne, with her criminal past, and Claire, who used to be a cop, had been folded into the Murrieta legacy. Abby had no doubt they’d take her in, too, judging by the warm smiles and compliments she received as she and Danny joined them.

  She’d dragged their brother into a boatload of trouble, but no one blamed her or thought less of her. They accepted her, no questions asked.

  “Well, we’re quite a trio,” Michael said, shoving Danny next to Alex. “The three amigos.”

  “The three idiots,” Danny muttered. “Why are we wearing the same costume again?”

  Alex cleared his throat. “Liebe is living under a delusion, which is a weakness we can exploit. If he sees all three of us, united in homage to our ancestor, he’ll believe we’re serious about handing over the ring. Did you find out if his grandson is going to be there tonight?” he asked Abby.

  She shook her head. “According to my contact at the caterer’s, he’s not on the guest list.”

  “I did a little digging of my own, though,” Claire said. “Liebe used his ill-gotten gains to get the kid into Northwestern. So he is here in Chicago.”

  “God,” Danny said. “I hope he doesn’t show up tonight. If he realizes how wacked out his grandfather is, his whole future could be a lost cause.”

  Abby stared at Danny, speechless.

  “Don’t look at me like I sprang a new head,” he said wearily, though the corner of his mouth tweaked up in a reluctant grin. “I’m not completely heartless.”

  She slid her hand up his arm and pressed her cheek to his, not caring that his brothers were groaning about this intimate, yet public display of affection. “You’re not heartless at all.”

  “Okay, loverboy, let’s get this party started,” Michael said, pushing his brother toward the door. They rough-housed for a second before Alex put a stop to it, leaving the women to exchange stares that said, Boys will be boys.

  They might not have been brothers three months ago, but they were now—and they had a lot of time to make up for. And damn it if Abby didn’t want to be there every step of the way.

  As they headed out into the frigid October air, Abby tried not to think about the fact that in less than an hour or so, Danny would try to leave.

  Emphasis on the word try, because she fully intended to stop him. He’d convinced himself that he could never fit into her world. And a week ago, she would have agreed with him. Maybe she still did. But the fact remained that she refused to let him go. Maybe it was irrational. Maybe it was crazy. Maybe it was desperate and pathetic and unbecoming to a woman of her beauty, intelligence and social standing.

  So, consequently, she couldn’t think of a better reason to hold on tight.

  But first, they had to put this mess with Harris Liebe to rest.

  Alejandro had hired a limousine to transport them to the party, but so had everyone else on the guest list judging by the long line of cars crawling up the street in front of Harris Liebe’s rented Lake Shore house, a stunning stone building that had an impressive front portico and rose up at least three stories. Abby no longer thought it was an accident that Liebe had leased a house in her parents’ neighborhood. The man was a master manipulator. He was counting on her need to keep her dirty laundry under wraps to force Danny and his brothers to give him what he wanted. Clearly, he knew a lot about the Murrieta family history, but he didn’t know nearly enough about this new generation. Or about her.

  By the time they piled out of the car, the men were restless. The couples split up immediately, entering a few minutes apart so they didn’t draw quite as much attention to the fact that all three men were dressed the same, a tactic Michael had suggested to throw Liebe off. Abby spotted their host as they strode through the foyer, but did not make eye contact. It helped that the man infuriated her. He’d used her to get what he wanted—and she’d never even met him.

  But if she’d resisted calling Danny when the news about her painting had come out—then what? Liebe would have tried something else, hooked someone else into bringing Danny out of hiding. In a twisted way, she supposed she should be glad for the man’s vendetta. If not for his determination to end the blood feud between the Loves and the Murrietas, Danny would never have come back into her life.

  As they crossed into a large living room on the ground floor, she caught sight of Erica. She couldn’t miss her. Black feathered wings sprouted from her shoulders, as perfect an accessory as the halo, crusted with equally dark sparkles, that she’d perched at a jaunty angle on her head. Her inky a
nd slinky goddess dress clung to her curves in ways that had the people standing around her staring, openmouthed, even as she laughed and sipped from a flute of champagne.

  When Abby registered who those open mouths belonged to, she stumbled over the train of her dress. Danny caught her by the arm and hoisted her upright.

  “You okay?”

  “Oh, my…word.”

  Danny followed the direction of her stare and grinned. “She looks hot.”

  “I agree, but my parents obviously think a little differently. My in-laws, too.”

  Erica had, at Abby’s instruction, contacted Abby’s parents and asked them to come home for this important social event, but seeing them standing with Gennie and Doug Chamberlain, Marshall’s parents, knocked her for a loop. She’d intended to introduce Danny to her parents before he escaped—but she hadn’t expected to expose him to her in-laws, too.

  Well, if she was going to go down, she might as well do it in flames.

  “Maybe we should get out of here before they—”

  “Abigail!”

  Abby took a deep breath and held so tight to Danny’s arm, she nearly popped off one of her artificial nails. She pasted on a serene smile, then took a step toward Erica, who’d called out. Danny held steady, but she turned and pierced him with her determination.

  “The least you can do before you disappear off the face of the earth is to meet my parents.”

  “Why would you want me to?”

  “Don’t they deserve to meet the man their daughter is in love with, particularly right before he breaks her heart again?”

  His mouth was grim, but his eyes, so green and hypnotic, flashed with shock.

  “You’re going to introduce me? The real me?”

  “That’s the only you I know. Come on, you’ll charm the pants off them.”