by Bethany-Kris
“Right now, yeah. So, dance with me?”
How could she deny him?
“Lead away, John.”
Siena found herself drifting across the large floor of the hotel room. Swaying softy together as John drew her closer, and she pressed her forehead against his. The way his smile deepened made her own grow wider. He kissed her lips, and then her cheek.
She could barely hear the music now.
Not overtop her racing heart.
Siena didn’t mind.
“Who taught you how to dance?” she asked.
John laughed a husky sound. “My mother, and then my grandmother, and then my aunt, and finally my other aunt.”
Siena’s giggles echoed. “What, it took that many for you to get it?”
“No, none of them thought the other one knew what they were doing. My family is both large, and strange sometimes.”
“I think they’re wonderful.”
John blinked, and the two of them stilled in their dance. “Yeah, they kind of are, huh?”
“They love you very much, John.”
“I know.”
Siena leaned up, and pressed a kiss to John’s lips. She intended for it to only be a quick kiss, but he pressed his hand against her lower back with a firm touch, and wouldn’t let her go. She didn’t mind at all, and soon, their kiss had once again deepened into something far hotter than how it had first started.
“I don’t want to dance anymore,” she whispered against his lips.
John’s smile turned sinful. “Me, either.”
His skillful hands made quick work of unzipping her dress from the back. Never once did his lips leave hers, and if they did, it was only long enough to kiss her chin, or down the column of her throat. She loved the way the taste of him lingered on her tongue. A heavy, heady unique-to-him scent and flavor that always left her a little wet between her thighs, and hot on her skin.
Cool air hit Siena’s body as John dragged her dress down. His warm palms slid over her curves, and he finally pulled back from their kiss long enough to let his gaze wander over the black lace panty and bra set she wore.
While his attention was on her, she started undoing his jacket, and vest. John let her pull the items off, along with his tie. She was working on the buttons of his dress shirt when, without warning, he dropped to his knees.
He didn’t give her much time to think, or react. No, he simply grabbed the waist of the lace panties, and yanked them down her thighs with a hard tug. The material pulled against her skin, making her release a sharp breath.
John’s husky chuckles echoed.
Siena looked down.
She only saw the flash of his hazel gaze, and that was it. Suddenly, his face was buried between her thighs, his tongue was assaulting her clit in the best way, and the rest of her thought process was gone.
Just like that.
Poof.
It was like time hadn’t separated them. Space hadn’t been between them. The seconds, hours, days, and months away no longer mattered. He knew her body, and just how to love it in the right way to get her hot, shaking, and falling over that blissful edge in barely any time at all.
Siena gasped when John’s mouth left her sex. She wanted to refuse, and pull him right back, but his quick, dark order came too fast for her to speak.
“Open up more for me,” she heard him demand. “Now, babe.”
Two sharp taps of his hands to her inner thighs had her legs opening wider. He was back between her body in a flash—his tongue on her clit again, but this time, his fingers joined the effort. Two inside her pussy fucked her hard, and then widening to stretch her open as he drew them back out of her sex.
She could hear how fucking wet she was.
She could smell her own sex.
Her noises echoed.
Sweet, breathless sounds.
“Come on, come on,” he growled against her inner thigh. “Give me that honey of yours, Siena.”
Jesus.
She came so hard.
It took away her sight for a brief second.
Her breath, too.
It was glorious.
Siena had only blinked, and John was rising from the floor. His hands trailed over the backs of her naked legs, her thighs, and ass. He let her step out of the panties that had bunched into a useless pile at her heels. The second the garment was gone, his hands pressed at her back and ass again, and she found herself lifted from the floor.
The room spun.
John was all she saw.
Siena’s back hit the bed, and his hands did that goddamn wandering thing again. Stroking her skin, and memorizing her with touch. Her back arched as his weight came over hers. A substantial weight that left her feeling breathless and oh, so high.
She fumbled with his belt, and the pants until he could pull them down, and kick them off. Soon, his shirt was gone too, and then the white boxer-briefs. He pulled at the hook of her bra connecting the two cups together, and freed it from her body. Nothing was between them but skin, and the hardness of his cock pressing into her thigh.
John’s lips were at her throat again. His teeth nipped into her pulse point, and his tongue tasted her skin. His words crawled over her in the best way—soft, yet harsh at the same time. Like the promise of a hard fuck that would leave her sore, but so satisfied, too.
“Get those fucking legs open for me, donna,” he said.
His voice was a rumble.
Thick and dark.
Siena widened for him, and he fit between her perfectly. Just like he always had. She only felt his hand between her thighs for a brief second, and then the head of his cock was at her slid. Rubbing, smearing her juices, and teasing her.
Begging was easy.
With him, it was too easy.
“Please fuck me,” she whispered. “Oh, my God.”
She missed him.
Too much.
It couldn’t be healthy.
She didn’t care.
John’s hands found her hips, his fingers dug in hard enough to leave marks behind, and she sucked in a sharp breath. The waiting was a killer—the knowledge that it was coming, but not yet there was enough to drive her crazy.
And then he was.
If that first thrust was heaven, the ones that followed were unaltered sin. A bliss like no other. He stretched her wide, his cock filled her full, and her nerves sang.
He fucked her crazy.
Until her lungs ached from panting so hard, and her lips were numb from his kisses. His teeth left imprints behind, and her skin heated beyond compare.
Siena’s fingernails dragged lines over the flexing muscles of John’s back with each push and pull of his body into hers. Deeper, and harder he came. Hitting the right spot every single fucking time, and then dragging every inch of his cock against it as he left her once again.
She couldn’t get enough.
Not of this man.
Or of them.
It was never going to be enough.
“More,” she demanded.
He gave her that, too.
• • •
Warm sunlight danced over Siena’s naked shoulders, but the sensation was nothing compared to John’s kisses dotting down her spine. He kissed all the way down, and then back up again, only stopping at her neck.
“Get up,” he murmured against her skin.
“But it’s so comfortable.”
“It’s morning, Siena.”
“Quite aware, John.”
And if she woke up, she would have to face the day. Or rather, face reality. Which meant leaving the comfort of this bed where she had spent all night relearning and loving a man she had been separated from for far too long.
It would mean leaving him again.
Who knew for how long?
It meant going back home.
Siena didn’t want to do any of that at the moment—never, really—so she stayed firmly stuck on her stomach, and refused to even roll over for John when he demanded it. Sh
e should have known better, though.
John was not a patient man.
Soon, she found herself flipped over. The soft white sheets tangled in her legs as she laughed breathlessly, and her vision swam. John hovered over her with one of his sinful, signature grins that made her want to get down on her knees for him.
“That was mean,” she told him.
John only shrugged. “I told you to get up.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“I ordered food.”
He said it as though he were dangling an offer he knew she couldn’t refuse. Her stomach just had to go and growl at his declaration, as if it had heard him make the offer, too. She didn’t even bother to try and look sheepish when he raised a brow at her.
“Will you feed it to me in bed?” she asked.
John’s smile softened. “Whatever you want, babe.”
“Remember that.”
“But it is time to get up. I didn’t forget what you told me last night, and the last thing we need or want is you getting into trouble with your brothers. You have to get back home, right?”
Fuck.
“Why did you have to go and ruin the moment with that nonsense?”
John frowned. “I don’t live in delusions, Siena.”
“Sometimes, reality is not a fun place to be.”
He didn’t reply, simply pushed off the bed, and turned his back to her. She felt bad, then—it hadn’t been him who ruined their moment at all. It was her, and her shitty morning attitude.
“Sorry,” Siena muttered.
John looked over his shoulder, and winked. “No worries. Get up. Let’s have a few minutes before you do have to go. I would have let you sleep, but then you would have needed to run as soon as you woke up.”
“Ah, so this was more for you than it was for me. I see what you did there.”
John only laughed.
As much as she didn’t want to move, Siena forced herself out of the bed. She found her discarded clothes from the night before, and carried them into the bathroom. She winked on the way past John. The man had no shame—naked and staring at her like he was.
She made quick work of using the bathroom, washing her face, and pulling her hair back into a simple, messy bun. She was stuck using her finger to brush her teeth with the small tube of toothpaste the hotel provided, but whatever, as it did the trick for now.
Slipping the clothes back on from yesterday, she was grateful nothing had been too wrinkled or ruined in their haste the night before. She smoothed down the front of the dress, and then zipped up the back, too.
Siena wasn’t really a high-maintenance woman when it came to her appearance, and that came in handy for the moment. Her half-assed hairstyle worked, and she did just fine without makeup for the most part.
John held out her small clutch as she left the bathroom. “Didn’t know if you needed something in it.”
“Just my phone.”
Which she had turned off the night before.
Siena decided she should probably turn it on, and check if she had missed any calls. The phone came to life under her hand as John went to the door when a knock echoed. She checked her phone over while he directed the man in with the cart of food.
“Well, shit,” Siena muttered.
John was at her side, and pressing a soft kiss to her temple once they were alone again. “What, something bad?”
“No, actually.”
She showed him the phone.
“No calls from my brothers,” she explained.
John cocked a brow. “So?”
“So, the enforcer did what I thought.”
“He didn’t call them.”
Siena nodded, and grinned. “Nope.”
“Any calls from the enforcer?”
“A text,” Siena replied.
She hadn’t even bothered to open it, but she did when John prompted her to.
Where the fuck are you?
And then another, later that night saying, I will be outside the brownstone at nine when you should be leaving. You better fucking be there, Siena. I am not getting my ass killed for your stupidity.
“He doesn’t seem happy,” John mused.
Siena laughed. “No, I guess not.”
She typed out a reply for the enforcer. Nothing to excuse herself, or explain where she went. I’ll see you at nine.
No reply came.
Siena looked at John. “Lucky me.”
He kissed her temple again. “Something like that.”
Well, either way …
“This was worth it,” she said.
John nodded. “Yeah, but it still makes me fucking edgy, babe.”
So was their life, apparently.
At least, for now.
Siena wanted to get her mind, and John’s, far away from all of that nonsense. Well, for as long as they possibly could, anyway.
“Let’s eat,” she said.
John let her go with a grin, and moved toward the cart of waiting food that was still covered on silver platters. “There’s a spread, so whatever you want. You made the orders, and I will feed you like I promised.”
She preened. “You better.”
“No!”
“Cella, it’s—”
“No.”
John’s head whipped in the direction of the door, but no one came busting through despite the shouting that suddenly filled the hallway outside. Still, he left their food, and grabbed his clothes hanging off the back of the chair. Pulling on the items, he moved for the door, and opened it up just in time for the yelling to get louder. More voices joined the chorus.
Siena heard pain.
Disbelief.
Grief.
Anger.
“Not my husband—not my husband!” Cella screamed. “You’re lying, Daddy. Why would you lie to me like that?”
John’s gaze cut back to Siena, and then just as fast, he disappeared out into the hall. She should have stayed where she was—after all, a lot of his family didn’t actually know that she was even there to begin with. The whole point was for her to stay low, and leave out the back quietly where she wouldn’t be seen.
Siena didn’t stay in the room.
She left instead.
“I’m sorry,” Lucian said, the words coming out repeated and sadder with every one. “I’m so sorry, Cella.”
The young, dark-haired woman—one of John’s sisters—fought with her father in the middle of the hallway. Her fists slammed into his chest when he tried to hug her, and tears stained her face as sobs ripped past her lips. People surrounded them. Confusion echoed as questions were asked.
Still, Siena heard the explanation given to John when he finally found someone who knew what in the hell was happening.
“William had taken the baby to grab some things from their place—I guess they forgot a bag,” Jordyn told her son. “Cella was sleeping, and he told Lucian he didn’t want to wake her, so he took the baby, too. His car was run off the road, and shot up. We got the call a little while ago.”
“Is she—”
“We don’t know about the baby,” Jordyn interjected.
“And William?” John asked.
“Why, Daddy?”
Cella’s pain coated the hallway. So thick, and heavy. Like a blanket of agony that no one could escape. Siena didn’t think John really needed his question answered, not when all he needed to do was look at his sister, and hear her cries.
“I’m sorry, bambina, I’m so sorry.”
Lucian finally got his daughter in a bear hug that she couldn’t escape. Jordyn must have felt safer to move closer, and so people parted to let her through. Siena heard people murmur about the hospital, and needing to go.
Someone else mentioned waking Andino, and his new wife.
What a morning after that would be.
A beautiful wedding, and a horror in the morning.
“Was it them?” someone asked.
“It was, wasn’t it? The Calabrese.”
; “No one’s claimed it—but we suspect, yeah,” Giovanni Marcello said, confirming Siena’s worst fears to the questioning family.
She realized then that perhaps her brothers did have a motive for leaving the city. Something they had put into motion that she had not known about beforehand. She wondered if William had been personally picked as a hit, or if he had simply been an opportunity given the circumstances.
Those were not answers she had.
Siena wasn’t able to think on it for long.
“Why is she here?” Cella demanded.
Siena snapped back at the venom in the woman’s tone. Cella—younger than Siena, maybe, or possibly the same age—stared at her with growing hatred in tear-filled eyes. She didn’t blame the woman, but it still hurt.
She stepped back.
John stepped in front of her. “Cella, she didn’t do anything.”
“Why is she here?”
This time, it was a scream.
A stabbing accusation.
“You just had to fucking go and get in bed with that fucking family full of snakes, John,” his sister shouted. Despite being pulled down the hallway by her parents, Cella continued on. Her rage spilled out—hurt and confusion following. “You don’t care what it means, do you? You don’t even know—”
“Cella, that’s enough,” Lucian snarled.
Sobbing echoed, and then the girl was gone, along with her parents. A few people followed them, mentioning the hospital again.
Siena was left standing in the middle of the hallway, feeling oh, so fucking cold and unsure. It wasn’t like Cella had been wrong, though she directed her words at the wrong person. John had not deserved those statements and accusations.
It was not his choices that did this.
It was not his family who took from her.
“Hey, babe. It’s okay.”
John was there in front of her before Siena had even blinked. His hand came up and touched her face with the softest stroke, but a line of tears still fell. She didn’t bother to wipe them away. He did it for her.
“It’s okay,” he repeated.
She didn’t think it was.
Not at all.
“She should have known,” someone said. “Isn’t she the one fucking feeding the boss information?”
Siena looked at the man who spoke, but she didn’t recognize him. “I didn’t know.”
Giovanni—Andino’s father—stepped in front of the man to block him. “Nothing at all, Siena? They didn’t say anything? You didn’t hear anything about something like this?”
