Accomplice: A Dark Mafia Romance (Romano Brothers Book 3)

by Samantha Cade

  “It’s not enough evidence,” he decides, finally.

  “Not enough,” I say, mostly to myself. “Then what evidence do we need? How do we get it?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Vince says, shaking his head. “I’m on it.”

  I cock my head challengingly. “Are you?”

  Vince looks me in the eyes for the first time tonight. The corners of his mouth twitch like he wants to smile, but he holds it at bay.

  “This is a delicate situation,” Vince says. “I have my guys working on it, listening, gathering intel. You see, Harley, I can’t make a good decision without good information. And that takes time to gather.”

  There’s a sincerity in his eyes, or maybe I’m just hypnotized by his charm.

  “I see,” I say, blinking down at my lap.

  “I took a chance enlisting your help, Officer Redding,” Vince says, coldly. “Don’t make me regret it. If anyone on your force catches wind of this, it’s all over.”

  “Of course. You can trust me, Vince,” I say, cringing at the slight lie.

  Vince nods, then stands and grabs a hoodie from a nearby chair. He slips it on and zips it up without a shirt underneath. The way his muscular arms fill out the sleeves fills me with an exquisite pain. Why is he so cold? Is it possible to break through?

  “I appreciate the visit,” Vince says, curtly. “But I have to go get dinner now.”

  I jump up nervously. “Of course. I won’t take up any more of your time.” I give him a forced smile, then turn to exit the office. But I don’t want to leave things like this. I can’t return to my empty apartment with this hollow feeling inside of me. I turn, and face Vince’s feet. “Where are you going to eat?”

  Vince breathes heavily through the silence, and I immediately regret asking. But I can’t turn back now.

  “I haven’t had dinner either,” I say, smiling somewhat manically. I bring my gaze up to his, and see that he’s staring at me. It looks like he’s about to accept, but he’s still unsure. “I come from a long, proud line of social justice warriors. I’d love to pick your brain.”

  Vince’s eyes narrow in confusion, but he’s also smiling. “You think I’m a social justice warrior?”

  “Yeah. Why not?”

  Vince’s gaze deepens, and I think I see a flicker a warmth. “Maybe I should pick your brain. Come on. I know a place.”

  Chapter Eight

  ————————

  Vince

  I take Harley down the block to Vergalli’s. It’s a dark, discreet place, and the waitstaff always keeps my table in the back available. The owner here is Romano loyal, and no one should see us here.

  Harley orders a chicken caesar salad. I’m a little disappointed. I didn’t peg her for a salad girl. But as the waiter is collecting our menus, she redeems herself. She stops him and adds a large calzone with sausage and peppers to her order.

  “Good choice,” I say, teasing her. I like the way her cheeks burn red, and she shifts a little in the booth.

  “Miss Manners would say to order a salad on the first date,” she laughs. “But I’m starving.”

  I can’t resist. “Date?” I say, eyeing her.

  Harley’s face turns the most beautiful shade of crimson. I want to press my lips against her skin to see if it’s hot to the touch.

  “You know what I mean,” she says, rolling her eyes.

  “Sure,” I breathe through my lips.

  While waiting for a our food, we chat about Harley’s hometown and family. She asks few questions of me, which I’m glad for. There are things I don’t want to tell, and things she doesn’t want to hear. If she did, it might ruin her perception of me.

  She wants me. I can tell. It’s written all over her face, in the gentle sway of her shoulders when she talks, the way her eyes travel down from my face to land in the center of my chest. I’m done with the back and forth, juggling my guilt with my desire. It’s going to happen anyway. Why fight it any longer?

  Then why aren’t I whisking her back to my place, peeling off her clothes, and sinking deep inside of her? I’d rather sit here and listen to her talk, learn about her and her father’s political crusades.

  This is more than sex. And that’s when it gets dangerous.

  Harley polishes off her salad, but can only get a quarter of the way through her calzone. She pushes the plate towards me, offering me some.

  “I always do that, order too much food,” she says.

  “Only with food? Or do you make a habit of biting off more than you can chew in your everyday life?”

  Harley’s eyes fall to my chest. And she doesn’t answer.

  Get her out of here. Fuck her brains out, I tell myself. Then you’ll stop thinking about her.

  I imagine taking her hand and wordlessly leading her outside. She wants it, and it would be so easy. Her panties would practically melt off with one scorching look from me. But there are some questions I want to ask her first.

  Harley is in the middle of an anecdote about a pack of police dogs being set loose during one of her father’s campaign parades.

  “They trotted between the cars, obedient as anything, like they were part of the parade,” she laughs. “It was so funny.”

  While I have to admit, that was probably comical, I don’t comment on the story. Harley looks worried about my silence at first. She’s cautious with me, nervous. I can’t blame her. I haven’t been the most open person around her. Her lips tighten. I want to wipe that worried expression off of her face. I shove my hand across the table and grab hers. Her lips part with a gasp. I bore my eyes into her, making her look at me.

  “When you said I was a social justice warrior, that I was like your father, what did you mean?” My grip tightens on her hand beyond my control. I realize how much I need the answer to this question.

  “Just what I said,” Harley says with a shrug.

  “That makes no sense. Your father was a politician. I’m-“ I let my voice trail off, sure that she can finish the sentence on her own. I’m waiting for her to tell me that she was just talking bullshit, trying to get me to go to dinner with her.

  Harley takes a deep breath, gathering herself. “You’re talking semantics again, Vince. Look, there’s right, and there’s wrong. There’s also legal, and illegal. Sometimes the two sets overlap, but really, they exist on separate planes.”

  “Right and wrong? That’s it?” I talk with my hands, energized by the discussion. “Who decides then, if not the government, judges and juries? Who decides what’s right?” I point to her. “You?”

  Harley bats her eyes coquettishly. “Well, yeah.”

  I cover my face and laugh. “How do you know what’s right? How does anyone?”

  Harley grabs my shoulders and shakes them. I’m a big guy, so she grunts with the exertion.

  “Vince,” she implores, staring straight into my eyes. “I know what’s right, because it’s obvious. Everyone knows, deep down, instinctually.” Her eyes grow wide as she reaches out and lays a hand over my sternum. I feel the lion stir beneath it. “Everyone knows,” she repeats.

  Her eyes flick up to mine. I’m suddenly aware that there’s no one else around. I look at Harley, and sparks tingle just beneath my skin, setting me on edge. I’m clenching my teeth, hard, fighting something. I’m tired of fighting.

  Harley seems to sense my shift in energy. She looks frightened. Her shoulders tense, and her breath trembles through her core. She also doesn’t back away. Never taking my eyes off of her, I slide out of my booth, and walk around to sit next to her.

  Harley’s wedged between me and the wall. I lean into her, closing the space between us even more. She rests her head against the wall, and tilts her chin up, inviting me. I take a moment to study her lips. The red lipstick has worn off, leaving a small amount of pigment that’s migrated to the edges of her mouth. It’s like a fucking bullseye.

  Harley’s lips round, as if poised to say something. I don’t want to talk anymore. Without wa
rning, I press myself against her, and plant my lips on hers. I feel her body tense, and then soften beneath me, her tits rising and falling with her breath. Her lips part slightly, allowing my tongue to dart inside. I savor the taste of her, exploring deeply, and moaning into her mouth. Harley wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me in closer.

  I pull away from her mouth and look into her eyes, warning her with a lip curled growl. Harley tilts her chin forward, biting her lip, giving me permission. I plunge my face into her neck, kissing, nibbling, and licking. Her skin is spiced with whatever soap she used in the shower, and I can’t get enough of it.

  My surroundings dissolve, and I completely forget we’re in a restaurant. I’m wrestling my hand up her shirt, pulling away lace and underwire until I feel her bare, bouncy tit. Harley moans and spasms beneath me. I close my fingers around her nipple and flick.

  “Vince,” Harley breathes between moans. “Vince.”

  “What?” I whisper, nibbling on her earlobe. I give her nipple another pinch. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No,” she says, decisively. “Just not here. Someone might see.”

  I slip my fingers down her stomach, beneath her jeans and panties, and stroke the soft hair there.

  “Don’t worry, Harley. I’m not going to fuck you here.”

  Her bottom lip pokes out with disappointment.

  “I just want to make sure you’re nice and wet, so when I take you back to my apartment, I can feel you come on my cock.”

  Harley’s eyes fall closed, and her bottom lip trembles. I continue my journey into the treasure between her legs. The tip of my finger slips easily into her moist slit. I find her throbbing clitoris, and press into it. Harley gasps, clutching at my neck. I swirl my fingers further down. She’s fucking soaked.

  “Looks like you’re ready for me,” I say, smiling against her lips.

  Harley

  ————————

  I’m a quivering mess when Vince takes my hand and pulls me out of the booth. He shouts at the waiter to put the meal on his tab before we walk out to the street. The fresh air does little to bring me back to my senses, or quell my desire. Every ounce of my energy and focus are concentrated deep within my core at my pleasure center. I want Vince to ravish me, manipulate my body to his will. I want to give him total control.

  Vince hasn’t cooled down either. As we walk, he holds me tightly by his side. I can feel the heat accumulating in his belly, and hear the loud pumping of his heart. His hand rests at my waist, and occasionally wonders to my ass, thighs, and around my stomach. Every few minutes, he bends to nip at my neck, all while not slowing his quick gait.

  It occurs to me that the wrong person could see us together. In the moment, it matters little to me. I expect Vince doesn’t care either.

  “Where are we going?” My voice is small and strained.

  Vince presses his mouth against my ear. “Not far,” he growls.

  Once he’s close to me, he can’t seem to pull away. He grips my hips tightly, and squares them with his. He grinds his pelvis against me, showing me how hard he is.

  I gulp. The lump in his pants feels…large. Very large. The comment Vince made about me biting off more than I can chew comes to mind.

  Vince walks forward forcefully, backing me into a narrow alley. In the darkness, I see the outline of this enormous man towering over me. I realize that he does have complete control. He grabs the outside of my thighs and hoists me up. Pressing my back against the wall, he thrust his hips forward. The rock hard flesh in his pants grinds directly into my clit. My vision goes watery as pleasure overwhelms my system. He pulls my shirt down, spilling my tits, then greedily takes my nipple into his mouth. I already feel on the verge of coming.

  My hands act without my control. I grab at his pants, unzip them, and slip my hand inside. I quickly locate his dick, and wrap my fingers around it. It throbs hotly against my palm. Vince shudders as I stroke the length of his shaft, and swirl my fingertip around the head.

  He grabs the hair at the back of my head, tangling his fingers in it, and makes a fist.

  “I need to fuck you now, Harley,” he says.

  The walls of my pussy constrict. I need him to fuck me too. But not like this.

  “Let’s go to your apartment,” I say.

  Vince fondles my breasts for a few more moments before backing away. He zips up his pants, then helps me put my tits back in my shirt. He takes my hand, drags me out of the alley, and down the street. He’s walking so fast, I struggle to keep up.

  Finally we come to a posh building on the corner. We take the elevator all the way up to the top floor, and it opens in his foyer. We’re barely inside before Vince is on me again. Now, behind walls and closed doors, I can really let loose and enjoy whatever Vince is about to do to me.

  There’s one thing that’s apparent right away. Vince has seized control of my body. I don’t make a move that’s of my own accord. I submit willingly to his strength. With his arms wrapped tightly around my waist, he lifts me off the floor, holding me against his chest. His hungry mouth tastes any part of my skin he can get to as he carries me down the hallway.

  We end up in the bedroom. After our exploits in the restaurant and alley, this feels quaint, romantic even. Vince lays me down on the bed. He seems to have gotten his own urgency under control. After taking off his shirt and pants, he bends over me, concentrating on slowly removing my clothes.

  His hands are hot against my bare skin, which contrasts nicely with the shivers that run down to my toes. My excitement mounts when he lifts my shirt and leaves soft kisses across my belly button. I trace his unflinchingly masculine and powerful shoulders while he works on unbuttoning my pants.

  Soon, I’m left in only my panties. I can’t wait for him to pull them off, to fully liberate me. But Vince, also leaving his own underwear on, pounces on top of me. I feel his hard cock straining against his cotton briefs. He presses into me, spreading my pussy lips open. A wet spot quickly forms on the swath of fabric between my legs. Vince grinds his hips. While I’m dying to feel him inside of me, there’s something exquisitely erotic about this, our sexes, throbbing and calling out for each other, kept apart only by thin fabrics.

  Vince bends down, biting my shoulder aggressively. He doesn’t take the time to pull my panties down over my legs. He just shoves them to the side, ripping them in the process, then yanks his briefs down. His cock unravels, free of the confined space, and clunks against my sopping center.

  I grip the bedsheets, sure that Vince is about to fuck me mercilessly. But, with the tip of his cock poised at my opening, he pauses. The moment slows down. He looks down at me, his eyes dark and warm. I’m immediately trapped in his gaze. He touches the tip of his nose to mine. I caress his arms, and see that his muscles are tensed. He’s trying very hard to keep from shoving himself inside of me.

  “Harley,” he whispers gruffly.

  I clasp my hands to his face and breathe his name.

  “I want you to know, you’re different. This is different.” His voice is gentle and floats easily through the darkness.

  The meaning of these words hit me immediately. In that moment, I feel so connected to him, it’s like we’re one person. It’s like a switch that’s suddenly been flicked on. I stare into his eyes, seeing beyond his incredible good looks. I know, instinctually, that he feels it too. I kiss him feverishly, blinking the moisture away from my eyes. Vince grips my hair in a tight fist, and pulls my head back. He looks at me, his eyes flickering, his lips curled.

  A quiver overtakes me. I grab the sheets again, bracing myself. Vince pushes the tip inside of me. It’s a tight fit, but with gentle patience, he gets the rest in. He starts thrusting slowly, allowing my body to expand and lubricate itself around his wide girth. He loops his arms through my knees, elevating my thighs. He pauses with his pelvis flush against mine. He’s filled me completely. We’re as close to each other as we can physically be.

  Vince takes a second to push the
hair away from my face, and leave a gentle kiss on my lips. But then, the gentleness is over. Vince fucks me, and fucks me hard, slamming his cock inside of me with powerful thrusts. I let go of the fear of his large member, the fear of pain, and relax. I’m rewarded with intense pleasure that comes in delicious waves, and never ceases until he does.

  I come so many times, I become a weakened mess, melting into the mattress beneath me. Vince straightens my legs in the air, and rests them on his shoulder. He presses his thumb into my clit, rubbing furiously while he slides in and out of me. With a growl, he collapses forward, grasping both of my breasts. His cock falls out of me, and I feel a warm spurt on my inner thigh.

  I gaze up at the ceiling, my eyes wide in amazement. I never knew sex could feel that good, that I could climax so many times. Vince grabs a t-shirt off the floor and wipes me up. He gets up from the bed to toss the shirt in a clothes hamper.

  Lying on his bed, completely naked, I wonder what I should do. Does Vince want me to stay or leave? Sure, he spoke sweetly to me, but that was right before we had sex. He wouldn’t be the first guy to talk about commitment just before the act. And with Vince’s skill, it was obvious he’d had plenty of experience. Had he told them all that they were different?

  Vince turns to face me wearing a broad smile. But it’s not his seductive, hypnotic grin. It’s boyish, somehow, vulnerable, even. He collapses on the bed beside me, wrapping me in his arms. I rest my head in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

  “Do you know how wrong this is?” Vince says. There’s an edge to his voice, letting me know that he doesn’t much care.

  “There’s that word again. Wrong.” I play with his hair. “Are you sure you know what it means?”

  Vince tickles my sides. I lurch against him, laughing despite myself. He stops tickling, and holds me close to his chest. He’s silent for awhile, but he’s thinking so hard I can almost feel it. After a few moments, he squeezes me tightly, and leaves a fervent kiss on the top of my head.