The King

by Taylor Danae Colbert

  “Right back at you, Castiano,” she whispers before running her fingers through my hair and pulling me down to her for one more kiss. I look at her.

  “I’ll go slow, okay?” I whisper. She swallows and nods. “Try to relax.” She lets out a breath through pursed lips, her eyes closing as she swirls her hands around in my hair. Slowly, I push my way into her, and I feel her entire body tighten beneath me. “Are you okay? Want me to stop?”

  Her eyes are squeezed shut, but she shakes her head. Then, after another moment, she loosens up. The expression on her face lightens, and she drags her nails down my back in big, slow circles. She bites her lip, and I start to move, slowly at first then faster when I feel her legs wrap around my waist. She tightens her grip on me, her whole body holding me onto her, clinging to me as I kiss her lips.

  It doesn’t last long. It’s been a while since I’ve done anything, and for as bad as I’ve wanted her for as long as I’ve wanted her, I’m surprised I made it all the way in without coming.

  But it’s beautiful. When we’re done, I clean up in her bathroom and wrap the condom in a shitload of toilet paper before throwing it away. Then, I slip my pants back on and climb back into bed with her, wrapping my arms around her and breathing her in.

  “That was amazing,” she whispers into my chest. I kiss the top of her head and smile.

  “That was everything.”

  12

  Dominic - Present

  I grumble and growl as I make my way down the stairs and out the front door, tugging my coat on and shaking off what’s left of my insane hard-on. I curse at the wind as I get in the car, bitter that I don’t get to finish what I started with her tonight.

  As I slide into the driver’s seat of the Cadillac, I tug my phone out of my pocket and redial the number that just called me. The number that I didn’t have in my contacts. My hand trembles as I press the call button, and I hate how much fucking power the man still has after all this time.

  “Dominic,” his smooth voice hums, and I clench my fists involuntarily.

  “Dexter,” I growl, the name tasting like bile as it rolls off my tongue. “How do you have my number, and why are you calling me?”

  A low and steady laugh rolls through the phone, making my stomach twist into angry knots.

  “We know a lot of the same people, Dominic,” he says. “And it’s not a secret your family was looking for me not so long ago, eh? I’m just returning the favor.”

  I let out a slow breath and rub my temples.

  “You almost had my sister killed, Dexter,” I growl. “But you already knew that.”

  “Dominic, you’ve known since you were a boy that this life isn’t for children,” he says. “The wrong person in charge could get very, very hurt.”

  I can’t tell if it’s a dig at Avie or at me. But either way, I still want to smash his fucking face in.

  “What do you want, Johnny?” I ask him through gritted teeth.

  There’s a pause.

  “It’s no secret there’s been a long history of bad blood between our families, wouldn’t ya say, son?”

  I grimace at the word.

  “Don’t call me that,” I growl. “You’re the reason I don’t have a father anymore, Dexter, and we all know it.”

  There’s another pause.

  “In any event, I’m calling to warn you, Dominic.”

  “Warn me about what?”

  “The Meluccis.”

  I freeze, my heart beating in my ears, the blood running cold in my veins.

  “Sal, his daughter, all of them. Your father was right about him all those years ago, Dominic. Sal Melucci owes a lot of people a lot of things. Including me. You don’t want to get wrapped up in it. Leave the girl alone. Leave him alone. Walk away. This is your one and only chance.”

  I swallow what feels like a knife at the back of my throat as I sit in the fact that Johnny Dexter knows Scarlett exists. He knows she’s been dragged into this by her father—and now, by me.

  “Dominic?” Johnny asks after a moment. I clear my throat.

  “Listen, Johnny,” I say, forcing myself to stay as calm and collected as I possibly can, despite the fact that I want to kill someone with my bare hands. “I don’t give a fuck what Sal Melucci has done or who he owes what. But you leave her out of it. This is your one and only chance.”

  Johnny chuckles on the other end of the line, and I can hear him blowing out smoke.

  “Son, you know that’s not how this line of work goes,” he says. “All is fair in this life. If I don’t get what I need from Sal, then I have to take something. That’s the way it works. It’s best you keep your family out of it. Goodbye, Dominic.”

  Click.

  All I hear is silence, and all I see is her face.

  All I can think of is how badly she never wanted any of this.

  And with or without me, she’s a part of it. To be used like some sort of fucking pawn if her dad doesn’t fix his shit, which, based on his track record, is looking less and less likely.

  I tighten my grip on the steering wheel, clenching until my knuckles turn white. And then I slam my fists against it and run a hand through my hair.

  I will keep her safe.

  She will always be safe.

  I pick my phone back up and dial Gio.

  “Hello?”

  “Where are you?” I ask.

  “Out,” he says. I roll my eyes. “Well, I need you home. Now.”

  “We got a job?”

  I let out a sigh.

  “I got a call,” I say just above a whisper. “From Johnny Dexter.”

  There’s a pause on the other end.

  “I’ll be home in fifteen minutes,” he says then hangs up.

  I get back out of the car and draw in a deep breath, sending out a text to the rest of the

  guys in our crew that we have an emergency meeting in twenty minutes. I walk back up the steps and into the house, where Scarlett is making her way to the last step into the foyer.

  “Hey,” she says, her voice dripping with pleasant surprise when she sees me. “That was a quick trip.”

  I force a quick smile as I drink in the sight of her, back in her clothes, hair up in a bun with stray pieces of hair sticking out every which way. And all I can think about is how badly I want her. How badly I want to keep her safe.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks, sensing the change of expression on my face. But I can’t bring myself to speak. I just shake my head and walk toward her, pulling her into my arms and wrapping myself around her. I breathe in her scent. I drink in how her tiny body fits in my arms. She squeezes me tight then pulls her head back, looking up at me as her hand cups my face. “Dom, what is it?”

  I peer down at her, narrowing my eyes on hers. I can’t lie to her.

  “I...I think your dad is in more trouble than I realized,” I tell her, rubbing her shoulders. “And I’m worried you might be, too.”

  She swallows, her eyes darting back and forth from me to the floor. She takes a step back and brings a hand to her head.

  “I...I don’t understand,” she says, walking to the steps and sitting down on the bottom one. I take in a breath and sit next to her.

  “I don’t fully, either,” I admit, “but I will. I don’t know what kind of shit your dad got himself into, but I will not let him drag you into it.”

  Any more than he already has.

  I turn so that I’m facing her and take her hands in mine.

  “Scarlett, you are safe, okay? You’re going to stay here as long as necessary until I make sure you are safe and that all of this is taken care of.” I pull her in closer to me so that our foreheads are pressed together. “You are mine to protect,” I growl. “Mine.”

  She closes her eyes and nods.

  “Yours,” she whispers back. I stand up and reach for her hand.

  “Come on,” I tell her. “Let’s see if Silla can whip something up before the guys get here.”

  “The guys?”
/>   I nod.

  “I called a meeting. We’re going to figure this out.”

  A short while later, the guys are all sitting around the table. Silla made a spread of sandwiches, chips, sodas, and some sort of muffins. It always amazes me how quickly she can whip up enough to feed the whole crew in less than an hour’s time, but I guess she’s used to it. She has a credit card that my dad gave her years ago that goes into a special household account. She is free to buy whatever food and supplies she wants. Honestly, if it weren’t for Silla, every member of this family would have starved to death by now. Neither of my parents got the Italian cooking gene, so without Silla, I don’t know how we would have survived.

  I let them dig in and enjoy the meal, knowing it’s the best that a few of them have probably eaten all week. They scarf it down, make jokes, laugh, talk about their families and their day jobs. It feels good to have the room full of lighthearted laughter for a minute. But when I look to my left, at Scarlett sitting still as a statue, poking at her sandwich with her fork but not eating it, I feel the temperature in the room drop. She’s scared, and I hate that. I put my napkin on the table and reach over to grab her hand, squeezing it on top of the table. Her eyes jump from her plate to our hands to me, and then she quickly looks around at the others. I realize what she’s realized: this is the first time we’ve had any sort of display of public affection in front of the crew yet. I’m sure Avie could have guessed what was happening earlier, but no one else is aware that Scarlett and I are...well, Scarlett and I.

  I’m not even sure if we were aware of it until a few hours ago.

  But now that I have her, now that she’s here, back in my house, back in my life, back in my bed…I don’t plan on letting go.

  “Boys,” I say, knowing it’s time to get down to business, “we need to talk.”

  Almost instantly, they all put their drinks down and turn to face me, the smiles running away from their faces. Gio clears his throat next to me, his hands folded on the table as he stares at me intently.

  “I got a call today,” I say, carefully delivering my words, “from Johnny Dexter.”

  All eyes grow wide, and I feel Scarlett’s hand shrink in my grasp. I squeeze it just a little bit tighter.

  “He called to warn me that I shouldn’t be doing any, uh, business with Sal Melucci. As you all know, our family cut ties with Sal years ago, but I recently became involved with him again because of Scarlett.” I look at her, but her eyes are down at the table. “I don’t know what Sal’s deal is with Johnny. I’m not sure who he owes what. That’s not my business. But what is my business is Scarlett’s safety. Johnny made it clear that, depending on if Sal comes through on what he owes, Scarlett could be footing some of the bill, so to speak. I don’t know what that means or how, but all I know is, it’s my business. So now, it’s all of yours, too.”

  Gio’s eyes are narrowed on us as he listens. Most of the others around the table are nodding their heads in agreement.

  “Fuck Johnny Dexter,” Slim says.

  “Yeah, fuck them,” Rooney agrees. “We’ll do whatever you need, boss.”

  “Yeah,” the others chime in in unison. I turn to my brother, who has yet to say anything.

  “Gio?” I ask.

  He purses his lips together, his eyes still narrowed on me.

  “You really wanna go down this road, Dom?” he asks me, his voice hushed as if no one else in the room can hear us. He’s not asking it to be malicious. He’s asking because we both know what taking Johnny head-on could mean for us. It could mean the end of the Castiano name. It could mean that we end up like our father. It could mean life as we know it comes to an end. But the truth is, we’ve been looking to take Johnny on for a long time.

  And as I turn to Scarlett and her eyes meet mine, I nod.

  Because if there’s one thing worth my world coming to an end, it’s her.

  “Yeah,” I tell him, turning back to him. “I have to.”

  He thinks for a moment longer as he leans back in his chair. His eyes catch Scarlett’s and my hands locked together, then slowly, he nods.

  “Let’s do it.”

  We lean in to the table for the next few hours, trying to figure out who and what Sal could possibly owe and how much.

  “Well, if he owes Joe D’Angelo, he’s a fuckin’ dead man,” Wes says, casually dumping a bag of chips into his mouth. Scarlett’s eyes widen at she stares at him.

  “Wes,” I warn.

  Scarlett turns to me.

  “Is he gonna die?” she asks, and the room grows quiet. For all I care, Sal Melucci can take all his shady deals and missed bets and faulty loans and jump into the fucking Hudson. But when I look into those big green eyes, I remember he’s her goddamn father. I can’t write him off, because leaving him for dead would kill her, too.

  I take her hand again.

  “I’ll talk to him,” I tell her. “I’ll see if I can sort out what kind of mess he’s in. See what we can do about it.”

  She nods, and I can see the fatigue in her eyes.

  The boys and I are used to these heavy conversations. We’re used to sitting here for hours at a time, plotting, talking about what we have to do next. About whom we have to go after. Trading people’s lives like they’re playing cards.

  But I can see how exhausted this has made her. How heavy it’s weighing on her. And I know it’s time to end it.

  “Okay, boys,” I tell them, clapping my hands together. “Next step is me meeting with Sal somewhere undisclosed to figure out how deep he’s in this. Scarlett will continue staying here in the house until we have more information.”

  Everyone nods and starts to stand up, shaking hands and waving as they head for the door. Gio stands up after the others have left and turns to us.

  “Well,” he says, “I’m going out.”

  I shoot him a look.

  “Where ya headed?” I ask. He shrugs, and I know that’s code for “probably some random girl’s bed after a few drinks.” I nod and tell him to be safe, closing the front door behind him.

  And then it’s just me and her.

  I take her hand and lead her up the stairs, one by one, until we get to her room. I lead her through the bedroom to the bathroom where I brought her the first night we came back here. I reach for the tub faucet, making the water as warm as possible, and then I pull her into me. I reach for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up over her head. Then, I unhook her bra and try to stay focused on her eyes as it slips down off of her body. I tug her pants and thong down and help her step out of them, and then I cup the side of her face and pull her in for a long kiss.

  “Scarlett,” I whisper, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  She lets out a long sigh as her eyes close. She nods slowly. I step away and take her hand, leading her to the tub and helping her step up into it. She slips down into the hot water, letting it cover her body. I bend down to kiss her forehead then turn to walk out. But as I do, she grabs my hand.

  “Stay,” she says as our eyes meet. She scoots to one side of the tub and reaches her hand up to me. I look down at her and slowly start to undress. Once I’m completely naked, I step into the tub, sliding down next to her and pulling her body on top of mine. I wrap my arms around her as she lays her head back on my chest. I reach for the washcloth next to the tub and dip it in the water, rubbing it on the back of her neck and following it with soft kisses.

  “Isn’t it crazy—” she starts to say then stops herself.

  “What?”

  She smiles and closes her eyes.

  “Isn’t it crazy that after all this time, all this bullshit, that I’m here in the house you grew up in, naked in your bathtub with you?”

  And then she giggles. And then she can’t stop. And then I can’t either. After a moment, she flips around so that we’re chest to chest, and she crawls up my body to kiss me. The sensation of her nipples against my skin makes everything in the nether regions hard as a fucking brick, and sud
denly, nothing seems funny. She puts her knees on either side of me as she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me closer. Our lips crash together, and our tongues intertwine, and I suddenly can’t remember what it felt like without her. Or at least, I don’t want to. All these years between our times together seem like such a waste now.

  I wrap my arms tighter around her as her center grazes my dick under the water. And then I can hardly stand it. As we come apart, she dips a hand down into the water, and then I feel her wrap her fingers around me, slowly sliding her hand up and down until I’m as straight as a board.

  “Fuck,” I whisper, my head dropping back against the cool tile.

  She pushes against my shoulders, motioning for me to pull myself out of the water. I lean back on the side of the tub on my elbows as she climbs up to her knees then takes me into her mouth with one quick movement, and I see stars. She slurps and sucks and moves up and down on me until I feel like a fucking teenager who busts after thirty seconds. I squeeze her shoulder, and she comes up for air.

  “Fuck, Scar,” I gasp.

  “I need you,” she says, climbing out of the tub on top of me. “Now.”

  I nod as I pull her out of the tub, sliding off the side of it and scooping her up. I walk across the bathroom to the counter and set her gently on the edge of it, dipping down to give her one quick lick before I slide two fingers inside of her. She’s wet and ready, and it makes me so stiff I feel like I might combust. I slide them back out and slip them into my mouth before pushing her legs apart.

  “Scarlett,” I tell her as I look into her eyes, “you are mine.”

  Then, I push myself into her, and she lets out a moan the second I’m inside of her. She drops back onto her elbows and lets her head fall back against the mirror as I start to move in and out, faster and harder, clutching her hips as I hold her in place.

  “Dominic,” she moans, biting her bottom lip as her eyes roll further back into her head. “Harder.”

  I growl as I scoot her down farther to the edge of the counter, fucking her like I’ve been starving for her for, well, a fucking decade.