by Renee Rose
Curiosity killed the cat, Sondra. Yeah. Too bad the attraction to the wrong sort of men never fades for me.
After I finish with the other two suites, I knock on Nico’s door. I have to admit, my heart beats faster as I stand there listening for an answer. I’m both thrilled and quaking at the idea of seeing him again.
I use the keycard and enter. I hear his voice first, then catch sight of him pacing out on his balcony, talking—actually, yelling—into his phone. His head jerks up and eyes lock on me with the same dark intensity they wore yesterday. He says something more into the phone and then drops it into his pocket, never taking his gaze from me.
I push the cart into the center of the room, hoping I’m hiding how much he unnerves me.
He slides open the glass door from the balcony and stalks toward me. “You came back.”
Does he sound pleased, or am I imagining it?
“Yeah,” I mumble and make a big show out of pulling supplies from the cart.
“I wasn’t sure you would.”
I turn around and yelp to find him right in front of me, the heat of his body radiating into mine.
Oh lord, he’s still beautiful. Chocolate brown eyes with long dark, curling lashes—the kind a woman would kill for. Olive skin. His square jaw sports a five-o’clock shadow. The bags under his eyes are still there, but not quite as pronounced today. His periwinkle blue button-down gapes at the collar, revealing a light dusting of dark curls.
I run my tongue over my lips to moisten them and his eyes follow the movement. “Are you going to strip search me again?”
His lips kick up at the corners and suddenly I find myself crowded against the cart. He’s not quite touching me, but it wouldn’t take much to bring our bodies flush with each other. “Do you want me to?”
Yes.
“No, thanks, I’m good.” I swallow, heat pooling between my legs, my core quivering. His lips are just inches away. I can smell his breath—minty and fresh. “Did you sleep last night?”
He arches a brow—yes, just one. It’s movie star sexy. “Are you asking after my well-being, bambina? After what I did to you yesterday?”
My face grows warm at the reminder and I shrug.
“You’re as sweet as you look, aren’t you?” His face darkens and he takes a step back. “You shouldn’t have come.” He shakes his head. “I figured you’d quit for sure.”
Suddenly I’m suffocating under his disappointment in me, which mirrors my own. When will I ever smarten up? Bartenders who like to drop ecstasy and mafioso casino owners are bad news.
As if he senses my change in mood, he reaches out and touches my shoulder. It’s a light touch—respectful. Nothing sexy or dominating about it. “I’m sorry about yesterday, Sondra.”
The way he says my name makes my insides twist and wriggle. I didn’t expect it to sound so… familiar on his lips.
“I’m glad you came back—even though I wish to hell, for your sake, you didn’t.”
I shove my chin forward. “So which is it? You want me here or you don’t?”
Suddenly I’m trapped against the cart, caged by the two steel bands of his arms. Tacone comes flush up against me, hard, muscular lines pressed against my curves. His cock bulges at my stomach. “I jerked off three times watching our video last night, bambina.” His voice comes as a hoarse rumble that enters my body.
My pussy squeezes, thrills of shock rippling through me.
What video? Oh dear lord, did his security surveillance catch the whole interaction? Who else has seen it?
“I was so sure you were a plant yesterday because there’s something special about you. Something that hooks me right here.” He curls his finger in front of his solar plexus. “So yeah. I wanted to see you again. Wanted to hear your voice. Make sure you’re okay.” He drops one of his hands to my hip.
I suck my lower lip in between my teeth. I’m trembling almost as much as I did yesterday, only this time, there’s no fear. Just excitement.
Desire.
His palm slides around my hip to cup my ass. I put my hands up on his chest, ready to push him away, but I don’t follow through. The thread of indignation running through me is drowned out by his velvety voice.
He cants his head, studying me. “Beautiful face. Perfect tits, that lush little body of yours. I’ve seen that before. But the way that sweet pussy got wet even though I scared the hell out of you. The way you revealed everything, like you really have nothing to hide...”
Oh gawd.
My sweet pussy is definitely wet again, clenching and releasing as his hot breath caresses my cheek.
“Have you forgiven me?” His voice drops to an intimate level.
Another squeeze of my lady parts tells me I’m already lost.
I want to say no because of the humiliation I endured, but, once more, my body betrays me—he has me leaning toward him, panting, hungry. “Not yet,” is as close I can get to a negative.
He brushes my cheek with the backs of his fingers. I get the feeling he’s testing to see if I’ll resist.
I don’t.
Score another one for the bad boy.
“Just like that,” he whispers, staring down at me. “That’s the look.”
What look?
One corner of his mouth lifts and he cups the back of my head, pulling my face up to his. “I’m not sorry.”
My eyes widen and I try to jerk away, but he holds me fast, and goes on like I didn’t react. “I wouldn’t have missed that encounter for all the world.” His lips descend on mine, firm and demanding.
A wave of lust rolls over me. I melt into him, parting my lips, allowing his tongue to sweep into my mouth. Heat explodes in every cell of my body.
He pulls away, nostrils flaring. “As sweet as I imagined.” He licks his lips, as if tasting me. “That I regretted. Not tasting you.”
I lick my lips, too. “I didn’t say you could kiss me.” The breathy quality of my voice belies my reaction.
He gives a harsh laugh. “No, you didn’t. I stole that kiss.” His features harden. “That’s why you shouldn’t have come back. You stick around here, piccolina, and I’m going to make you sorry. Probably make us both sorry.” He steps back and surveys me. “Or maybe not. I might just take what I want without apology.”
My pulse skitters. My panties are damp with arousal, nipples chafe against my bra. I’m one part scared, two parts turned on. And damn, if his warning doesn’t make me want to offer myself up to him on a silver platter.
He straightens his jacket and walks toward the door. “So I’m going to leave, amore. You do your thing here.” He stops at the door and turns back to face me. “And you’d better think about what you want to tell me next time. Make up your mind. Yes or no. And I’ll make up mine. But I’m warning you, bambi—you have even a little bit of yes mixed in with your no, I’m going to mow you down to the ground.” He points a warning finger at me. “Believe it.”
When he leaves, I have to hang onto the housekeeping cart to keep my legs under me.
What. In the hell. Just happened?
I want to call Corey and report, because today’s story turned out almost as exciting as yesterday’s, but I don’t dare. Tacone has cameras everywhere, and he already confessed to jerking off to the footage of me yesterday. I wouldn’t be surprised if he reviewed today’s feed, too. And I really need to get my head straight before I open my mouth around him again.
Because he just gave me an ultimatum. Make up my mind. I don’t know the full implications of that decision or even what it entails, but I do know one thing—
There’s way too much yes in me to say no.
Nico
I head down to the main floor.
There are about a hundred reasons why I shouldn’t fuck around with the hot little art historian housekeeper, but none of them make it easy for me to walk out the door when she’s still in my suite.
I’m going to have to make sure I’m not there when she cleans. Hell, if I had any dece
ncy in me whatsoever, I’d call her boss and have her transferred back to the main floors right now. I wait a few moments to see if my moral compass takes over enough to follow through on that thought.
Sadly, it doesn’t.
Sondra, Sondra, Sondra. I’ll have to hope her good sense kicks in.
It’s funny; the only other time I had it so bad for a girl was when I was twelve and became obsessed with my brother’s girlfriend, Trinidad Winters. But that was just my pubescent lust kicking into high gear. Trini was always around, riding along in the car when Gio picked me up, watching movies on our couch in miniskirts that rode up her long legs.
Sondra is nothing like Trini. She’s nothing like Jenna, the mafia princess I’m supposed to marry. I don’t date, but she’s definitely not like any of the girls I fuck—paid or volunteer.
I want more of her. I love the way she got breathless and excited back there. It wouldn’t have taken much for me to pry those knees apart and show her just how bad her taste in men really runs.
Oh, I’d have her screaming. Pleasuring Sondra would be easy—the girl looks ready to go off like a firecracker. Hell, I’d keep her up all night moaning my name and I wouldn’t even miss the sleep.
I walk around the tables, scanning for Sondra’s cousin, Corey. Just to get a look at her. Not because I’m totally obsessed with this girl and need to know everything about her. Researching her full background was necessary. I had to make completely sure she’s not working some angle.
The Tacones have a lot of enemies. Hell, I probably have enemies within the Tacone family. I run my Vegas branch of the business on the up and up, but there’s a long history of violence and crime going back at least three generations to the Chicago underground. And then there are the enemies from the legitimate business world. Anyone might send in a femme fatale to get close to me, learn my secrets and set me up to fall.
And Sondra Simonson is exactly the kind of girl they’d send.
No, that’s bullshit.
She’s not. She’s nothing like a professional. But if my enemies were really smart, if they could somehow intuit what’s taken me by surprise, they’d send Sondra Simonson to take me down.
Because it’s for certain.
I’m not going to be able to stop myself from going after her.
I find Corey working a blackjack table. I see the resemblance. She’s as lovely as Sondra, but totally not my type. Tall, red-haired. Leggy. She looks sophisticated and sharp. Deals fast and clean. Appears to be a good asset to my casino.
She’s focused on her customers and yet her gaze flicks around the room, taking in everything. Including me. Next time she glances up, she skips the room-sweep and looks straight at me. I saunter over to her table.
Nothing shows on her face, but I know she’s aware of who I am. Wonders what I’m doing at her table. My presence must make the customers nervous, because after a few hands, the table clears out.
“Mr. Tacone,” she murmurs without quite meeting my eye. She’s properly deferential. Plays it just right.
I shove my hands in my pockets. I’m not even sure what I want from her. Some more information about Sondra, I suppose.
When I don’t say anything, she offers, “You scared my cousin yesterday.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “You don’t still think you need to worry about her, do you?”
“No.” I scrub a hand across my face. “Scale of one to ten—how traumatized was she?”
Corey has an excellent poker face. Nothing shows—not surprise, not anger. Nothing. “Eight. But the flowers and money helped.” Corey moves in for the kill. “A dealer job would help her even more.”
I shake my head. “Not gonna happen.”
She lowers her gaze to her cards without comment, spreading them out on the table and flipping them over back and forth in a perfect ripple, showing off her tricks. After a long moment, she says, “If you weren’t my boss, I’d tell you to stay away from her.”
I like her pluck.
I pull a fifty-dollar chip from my pocket and drop it on the table for her as a tip. “I can’t.”
Chapter 4
Sondra
Corey and I ride into work together the following week. I love when we work the same shift, but she hates it, because it means she’s working days, and she makes more money at night.
It’s the first chance I’ve had to fill her in on the latest with Tacone, which is nothing.
“So you haven’t seen him since the day he kissed you?”
“Nope. The next day I went in and there was a fifty on the table. I left it. The day after that, he left a hundred-dollar bill with my name on it.”
“You took it, of course.”
I didn’t want to. I was afraid it would mean something. Like if I accept his money, I’ll owe him something later. Except I really can use the money. I need at least two thousand for a deposit and first month’s rent. And another three thousand to buy a car that runs.
“Yeah. And then he left another one a couple days later.” I dig them out of my purse and hand it to her. “Here.”
She shoves my hand away. “What’s that for?”
“To go toward my share of the rent.”
She rolls her eyes. “Save it. Then you can move out sooner.” She gives me a teasing grin.
“You sick of having me?”
“No, I love it, actually. But I think Dean’s tired of sharing the family room. He likes watching movies at night, you know.”
Yeah, I noticed. Dean hasn’t exactly stopped that habit even though the sofa’s my bed. He stays up watching until one in the morning most every night.
“And every time we have sex, I cringe because the walls are paper thin. Can you hear?”
I make a face. “Yeah, sometimes.” They have sex at least once a day, sometimes more. I swear, Dean’s a sex addict. Not that once a day is bad, but I don’t see why he’s looking at me when he gets plenty from Corey.
“I think he wants to have a threesome.”
“Ew. Corey!”
She laughs. “I told him no way. I don’t share. Ever. Not even with my best cousin who’s like a sister.”
Thank God.
What in the hell would I say if she was into it?
But yeah, gross. Apparently my instincts are right about Dean.
“So back to Nico Tacone. What’s going to happen when you do see him again?”
Er…how should I know?
“I mean, you need to decide. I think the guy has the hots for you. And his instinct is to exploit you, like he probably exploits all women, but something made him hold back.”
“He thinks I’m innocent or something.” I say innocent like it’s a dirty word.
Corey grins at me. She knows better. “There’s something about you that comes off that way. I used to hate you for it.”
I gape. “What?”
She shrugs. “When we were kids. I mean, my dad was such a prick and I didn’t trust anyone as far as I could throw them, but you were so pure. With you, what you see is what you get. It’s what makes you trust losers. But it’s a pretty amazing quality.”
I roll my eyes. “Great. An amazing quality that made you hate me as a kid and makes me date losers. Sounds like one I should keep.”
Her eyes slide over at me. “No, really. I hope you never lose it.”
She sounds so serious I shut up.
“Anyway, I think that’s what he’s reacting to. You’re out of place in Vegas.” Corey pulls into the Bellissimo’s drive and heads toward the back employee lot. “So how’s it going to go when you see him?”
I draw a breath. I want to lie and say I hope I won’t see him at all, but Corey already knows the truth. I shrug. “I’ll follow his lead.”
Corey parks and faces me. “Seriously? How’s that been working out for you so far?”
“I know, I know, but…” But it’s part of the fascination. The way he dominates every moment we’re together makes my knee
s weak.
We get out of the car and walk into the casino together through the service entrance.
“I think you should decide. If you want to go for him, make a play. If not, be professional. Don’t let him jerk you around again. Okay?”
I nod, but I’m not sure about anything. I need to quit this job. Soon. Before I humiliate myself even more.
My phone buzzes as I walk down the hall. It’s a friend from Reno. She wrote, Tanner stopped by. Seemed really heartbroken. He begged me for your new number. I told him to get lost.
Right. Heartbroken. Ha. He wants the car back.
Thanks, I text back. I definitely don’t want to hear from him.
I head to the employee locker room to change into my pink housekeeping dress. Like every day this week, there’s an uptick in excitement as I put it on, remembering how Tacone stripped me out of it.
Damn. I have it bad for this guy and he’d be my worst man-move yet.
Nico
“The fuck you are,” I snarl at my oldest brother, Junior, through the phone. He’s just informed me he’s sending ten guys to Vegas to take over the cocaine scene here.
“You wanna try that again?”
“We had an agreement. I keep things on the up and up here so your money can be laundered through. I do not need the Vegas police or the Feds breathing down my neck because you want to increase your share of street drug sales. It’s not worth it.”
“I decide what’s worth it and what’s not.”
I go silent with my disagreement. Junior doesn’t run the outfit. Our father is boss, but he’s currently sitting in a federal prison for four more years on a tax fraud charge.
“No, Junior,” I say after the pause. “I have enough to deal with here. I know this city. I know the cops. I know the mayor. The risk does not outweigh the reward.”
“Maybe you need me to come help you run your business better, then.”
