Addictive

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Addictive Page 11

by Jessica Prince


  “Oh, shut up,” I snap over her laughter. “Like you haven’t done worse.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! If I didn’t want all the juicy details, I’d be in a full on hissy right now.”

  “I’m not talking to you about my sex life.”

  “Boo, you suck as a person.”

  “Oh yeah? Why don’t you tell me where you were that night that would cause Aldo to storm out of his boss’s party like he was about to go on a killing spree. You share, I share.”

  More silence, followed by, “Moving on.”

  Uh huh, thought so.

  “So let me get this straight. You have sex with the guy again and now you decide you need to move out?”

  My frustration builds at her questioning. “I can’t stay here, Carmen, don’t you get it? If I do, it’ll happen again. I’m just trying to preserve what’s left of my sanity.”

  “Was it that bad?”

  Dropping my head dejectedly, I squeeze my eyes closed and tell her, “No, it wasn’t bad. It was amazing. He’s always amazing, but there was just something…different that time. It was…rough.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “No!” I immediately jump to Gabriel’s defense at Carmen’s distressed tone. “It wasn’t like that. It was like…God; I don’t know how to explain it. It was like he finally let go, you know? Like he wasn’t worried about breaking me, so he didn’t hold anything back.”

  “And you liked it?” she asks cautiously.

  “I loved it,” I whisper.

  Just as the words leave my mouth, I hear a throat clear from behind me and I spin around with a scream.

  Gabriel’s standing in the doorway, one shoulder resting against the jamb, arms and ankles crossed, with a smug grin on his face. His expression makes my blood heat instantly with both arousal and humiliation.

  “Carmen, I gotta go,” I spit out, watching as the grin on Gabriel’s face tips further up into a brilliant smile. Shit, this is not good.

  “What? What’s happening? Why’d you scream?”

  “I have to go,” I repeat through clenched teeth.

  “Oh, my God. He’s there isn’t he? He totally heard you say that!”

  “Hanging up.”

  “Oh shit! No way in hell he’ll let you leave now!”

  Pulling the phone from my ear, I disconnect the call on her, mid laugh, and prepare to face off with the dangerously good-looking man in front of me.

  “Good to know you enjoyed yourself, my bella,” he chuckles, and I have to steel my resolve against the intoxicating sound. “But, I have to tell you, you’ll move back to that apartment over my dead fucking body.”

  And there it is. Domineering Gabriel has officially taken over making it easier for me to mask my feelings for him.

  “You can’t make me stay here. That’s kidnapping.”

  He pushes off the doorjamb and clears the space between us. “I prefer the term abduction, but if you like kidnapping, we can stick with that. I’m even down for a little role playing if that’s what works for you,” he says with a wink.

  “Gabriel, be serious!” I snap. “This isn’t a joke! I’m moving out. Tonight.”

  He steps in closer, causing me to move back until I’m pressed against the kitchen island. Caging me in, with his hands resting on the counter on either side of me, he leans in and asks, “And where will you go?”

  My head tilts to the side in confusion. “Back to my apartment, of course.”

  “Ah, well, you see, that might be a problem.”

  Closing the remainder of what little space there is between us, he presses his hips to mine, pushing his hardening cock into my belly. It takes serious strength to focus on the conversation at hand when just the feel of him against me causes my pussy to grow wet.

  “What might be a problem?” I breathe.

  Trailing his nose up my neck, he licks my earlobe before giving it a gentle bite, causing my eyes to roll back in my head.

  “The fact that you no longer have an apartment.”

  And just like that, I’m snapped out of my stupor. “What?” Leveling him with a dangerous glare, I shove back and sidestep out of his hold, not stopping to face him until several feet are between us. “What do you mean I no longer have an apartment?”

  He casually leans a hip against the island as he takes in my angry stance, and I can’t help but notice how devastating he looks in his charcoal gray, pinstriped suit and dove gray button down shirt. “I informed your landlord you wouldn’t be returning.”

  Oh, God. It feels like my head is about to explode. “You did what?”

  He remains as casual as ever, as if he didn’t just drop a ton of bricks on me. “Don’t worry, you’ll be getting your deposit back in full and won’t be penalized for breaking your lease.”

  Looking up at the ceiling in frustration, I release a bark of sarcastic laughter. “And just how did you manage to pull that off?”

  “I can be very persuasive, baby. I think you already know that.”

  With that, I lose it. “You had no right!” I yell. “That was my apartment! My home! Who the hell are you to break my lease without even telling me?”

  His arms cross back over his chest and his jaw begins to tick, and I know we’re about to have it out. “It was unsafe, Marley. You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’d let you go back there.”

  “THAT WASN’T YOUR CALL!”

  “Like fuck it wasn’t! Everything regarding you is my call!

  “You’re such an asshole!”

  “And you’re being difficult! Get over it, Marley. The apartment’s gone. You’re staying here.”

  “What about my stuff?” I cry. “Everything I owned was in that apartment!”

  “The apartment is being held until after the holidays. You can get anything that wasn’t destroyed then, with the exception of any clothes that weren’t ruined. Those, I already had burned.”

  “You’re insane! You know that?”

  He straightens and starts for me, a predatory look on his face. “Yeah, baby. Let me fuck the fight out of you. You know you’ll love it. Want me to be as rough as I was the other night?”

  My panties are soaked at his words, but my hands meet his chest when he gets to me, trying in vain to push him away. I refuse to let him see how much he’s affecting me.

  “I want my stuff,” I demand, thankful my voice doesn’t break.

  “You can have whatever you want, baby, just let me fuck you again.” He pushes closer, trapping my hands between our bodies.

  “You’re a prick.”

  “And you’re wet as fuck. Don’t deny it. Jesus, you make my cock hard when you fight with me,” he groans and I almost climax from the sound alone.

  “W-we can’t do this.” I whisper shakily.

  “Mmm,” he hums against my ear. “Yes, we can. Think about how good it’ll be, my bella. I’ll lay you out on the table and eat that sweet pussy until you come all over my face.” I feel the edge of the kitchen table cut into the back of my thighs as he pushes his hard on into my belly again. The desire to climb on the table and wrap my legs around his hips is almost too much to handle. “Maybe, if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you suck my cock before I fuck you. Would you like that?” I whimper at the erotic visual his words are creating in my head. God, I want him.

  “Or you could ride my face while my dick is in your mouth. How about that? You could suck me while I eat you and finger-fuck you at the same time. And once you’ve come so hard you’re afraid you’ll pass out, I’ll bend you over the table and fuck you until you’re screaming my name.” A deep, needy moan rumbles up my throat as I close my eyes and drop my head back, giving him easier access to my neck. “I’ll pound into your tight pussy until it clamps down around my cock and squeezes me dry.”

  His fingers skate along the waistline of my jeans, popping the button open. I’m just about to beg him to do something—anything—when the cell phone in his pants pocket lets out a loud aler
t, breaking through the haze we both seem to be in.

  At the alert, Gabriel reaches into his pocket and looks at his phone before shoving it back with a string of cuss words so colorful they’d make even Carmen blush.

  With one arm around my waist, he straightens to his full height, bringing me with him so I’m no longer leaning over the table.

  “I have to go, my bella. But we will be finishing this conversation when I get back.”

  He slams is mouth down on mine in a brutally hungry kiss before pulling away and storming out of the apartment. Long minutes after I’ve heard the front door slam shut, I’m still standing in the kitchen, breathing heavily, and wondering what the hell just happened.

  It’s happening tonight.

  That’s all Aldo’s text says. But it’s enough for me to walk away from a ready and willing Marley, all but spread out on my kitchen table, practically begging me to eat her cunt like a goddamned Thanksgiving feast! Now I’m in my car, pissed as hell with a dick hard enough to hammer nails.

  Aldo’s voice comes through the Bluetooth in my car as I reach into my pants and adjust my dick, trying to alleviate some of the discomfort. “Boss.”

  “You got all the info?”

  “Yep, we’re all set. Meet you at the office in twenty.”

  I disconnect without saying a word and point my car in the direction of my office building. Tonight had better go off without a fucking hitch. I have plans for when I get home. Very specific, very detailed plans.

  ***

  Sitting outside a rundown warehouse late at night in Chicago’s Westside is most definitely not, where I want to be. I’d much rather be getting my dick wet, but this is the only lead we’ve had on Gianni in weeks. Aldo got a call from the junky we bribed saying there was going to be a drop tonight. That’s why I’m out here, freezing my balls off, waiting for sight of the man who’s been making my life a living hell for too fucking long.

  “Aldo’s in place, boss,” Carlo tells me, pocketing his cell. I let my eyes hit each of my men, taking in their demeanor, making sure they’re ready for whatever might go down. Besides Carlo, I’ve got two other guys with me. Aldo has three with him in place inside the warehouse. Our junky snitch has been inside for the last twenty minutes, waiting for Gianni to show up. If everything goes as he indicated, it should be an easy in and out job. But as I watch the dark colored sedan drive up and crawl to a stop, my gut tells me that something is off.

  I watch anxiously as Gianni climbs out of the driver side and walks up to the junky. The kid’s twitchy on a good day, but something about how he’s acting right now sends warning flags up like goddamned flares. He’s scratching at the back of his neck as Gianni talks to him. Unable to hear the conversation between the two men, all I can do is watch and wait.

  “I don’t have a good feeling about this, Gabe,” Carlo whispers to me, his words echoing exactly what I’ve been feeling since Gianni pulled up. And my fear is confirmed when a large black van pulls up behind the sedan a minute later and six guys get out. All of them toting AKs like they’re part of a fucking militia.

  Shit just went from bad to worse. The junky starts flailing his arms around frantically, yelling something I can’t make out and pointing in the direction of where my men and I are hiding.

  “Goddamn it! It’s a fucking trap!” I shout. I cock my gun and take aim just as the bullets start flying.

  ***

  I’m dead on my feet by the time I make it back to Gabriel’s after my shift. Fletcher’s was absolutely packed; so Matty, Carmen, and I ran our asses off up until last call. All I can think about is stripping out of my uniform, crawling into bed, and passing out for at least thirty-six hours. But seconds after the elevator doors close and I begin my ascent to Gabriel’s apartment, it becomes quite apparent that isn’t going to happen.

  Dropping my head forward, I reach up and begin to massage the tight muscles in the back of my neck and shoulders before stretching it from side to side. The moment I open my eyes, I see the dark stains covering the carpeted floor of the elevator. As my eyes trail up, I take in the deep red streaks on the door in front of me.

  Is that…blood?

  I barely have time to process what I’m seeing when the elevator dings and the doors slide open. More dark red streaks and stains cover the foyer floor leading to the open door to Gabriel’s apartment. My breath stalls in my lungs as I take in what looks like a murder scene in front of me. I reach into my purse, pulling my gun out and, as quietly as possible, check to make sure it’s ready to go. Safety off, fully loaded, one in the chamber. While my subconscious screams I should be running in the other direction, my body presses forward as though it’s on autopilot. The only thought running through my head is that Gabriel could be in there hurt. I have to get to him.

  I can’t think past that. I can’t think about the fact someone might be in there with him. I just need to get in there to help in any way I can. Sucking in a deep breath, I close my eyes briefly and let it out, willing my hands not to shake as I take silent steps toward the open door. Please let him be all right. Please let him be all right. I repeat the chant in my head over and over as I slide through the door and follow the trail of blood down the hall. My heart pounds rapidly in my chest and I have to fight the tears back. Please not Gabriel. Please not Gabriel. I don’t know what I’ll do if something’s happened to him.

  I hear noises coming from the direction of the guestroom I haven’t been occupying since moving in with Gabriel. Muffled voices grow louder the closer I get to the door, followed by a masculine howl of pain. Oh God, no!

  Before my body can react, the door to the room flies open, crashing into the wall behind it, and Aldo comes rushing out. “What the fuck!” he thunders, skidding to a halt when he sees me. “What the hell you doing with a gun, Marley?” he shouts. But the blood covering his shirt and hands, plus the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, makes it impossible for me to concentrate enough to say anything but, “Gabriel,” on a choked whisper.

  “Aldo! We need fucking towels!” A moment after hearing his voice, Gabriel barges from the room and runs into Aldo, not stopping until his eyes hit mine. I watch as they flicker with confusion until they slide down to the gun still clutched in my hand.

  “Jesus Christ! Put the goddamned gun down, Marley!” In a flash, Gabriel’s in front of me, one hand wrapped around my wrist, the other wrenching the gun from my grasp. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

  An uncontrollable sob rises up from my throat as my eyes run over his gorgeous face. “I s-saw blood everywhere!” I cry loudly.

  Gabriel’s face softens slightly before he pulls himself together and looks over at Aldo. “Towels. Now!” Then Aldo’s gone.

  “I’m sorry you were scared, baby. And I’ll explain everything. But not right now.” He grabs my face and kisses me quickly. “You have to trust me.” He turns and sprints back into the room he just came from. I stand motionless in the hall for several seconds before my brain engages then I walk on silent, hesitant feet toward the room. Another groan sounds out as I reach the doorway and peek in. Aldo comes rushing in past me and drops an arm full of towels on the bed.

  “Hold him still. I need to get the bullets out.”

  What? Bullets? As in more than one? What the hell?

  As I get closer to the bed, I’m able to see who is on the bed, writhing in pain.

  With a startled gasp, I cry out, “Carlo!”

  “Marley, out!” Gabriel barks as Carlo’s back arches off the bed.

  “I said hold him down!” My gaze shoots to an old man standing at the side of the bed holding a long pair of forceps. Carlo’s back hits the bed as Gabriel and Aldo both hold him down. I watch as the man sticks the forceps in a hole in Carlo’s hip, only to pull them back out when Carlo begins bucking.

  “Goddamn it! Hold still, man!” Aldo shouts in Carlo’s face.

  “You have him dig around in your fucking body and try to hold still!” Carlo returns on an agoniz
ing groan.

  “Done it before and never acted like such a pussy.”

  What does he mean he’s done it before? Is this a common occurrence for these men?

  Making a split second decision, I walk around Aldo’s massive frame to the head of the bed and rest one knee next to Carlo’s shoulder.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I hear Aldo ask, but I ignore him and focus on Carlo.

  “Hi,” I say with a smile.

  He stares up at me in confusion for a brief moment before a pained smile tips one corner of his lips. “Hey there, sweetheart, how you doing?” he asks through gritted teeth.

  Reaching up and brushing damp hair from his eyes, I joke, “Better than you, from the looks of it.” This gets a quick laugh from Carlo that’s immediately followed up with a grunt. I don’t know this man very well, but the few times I’ve been in his company, he’s been nothing but nice to me. Gabriel obviously respects him, and I’ve never felt anything other than safe in his presence. Deciding to do whatever I can to help ease his discomfort, I climb fully onto the bed and lift his head as best I can without hurting him further until it’s resting on my lap. Then I reach for both of his hands, which are clenching the sheets so tightly I can see they’re tearing, and squeeze them with my own.

  Meeting Carlo’s eyes, I smile again and tell him, “Okay, breathe in deeply through your nose, and then out through your mouth.” Following my orders, I feel Carlo’s body relax just slightly. “Now hold still, okay. Squeeze my hands if you need to, but try really hard not to move. Can you do that?” He gives me a jerky nod and screws his eyes shut tightly. I look up and meet Gabriel’s stare, awe filling his eyes as he studies me. I flash him my best reassuring smile before I turn to the old man holding the forceps. “Do it,” I tell him.

  When he goes back in to try to dig the bullet out of Carlo’s hip, Carlo lets out a low groan and squeezes my hands to crushing point, but I simply lean down and whisper to him, hoping to soothe him. I know he’s still in excruciating pain from his tight face and the sweat beading up on his brow, but this time—with the help of Aldo and Gabriel, of course—he’s able to stay still long enough for the man to get the bullets out. All three of them!

 

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