After dinner, my mother talks for ten minutes about how unhappy she is that I’m not going back with her. I win over her approval by saying that I’ll be over for dinner on Sunday.
We get in our cars—after I check the back seat of mine—and drive away. They drive to my parents’ house while I circle the block and return to Villa Russo.
“Back so soon?” the attendant says.
“Forgot something inside.”
I walk in and head to the bar. Jesse doesn’t seem surprised to see me. In fact, he doesn’t acknowledge me at all.
I use the restroom and then bide my time, talking with friends of my parents who were on their way out. We chat in the lobby for a while. When they leave, I make a show of looking for my phone that I swear I lost.
When the last of the dining room has emptied, I realize the club must be closing soon, so I head to my car.
“Find your phone?” the attendant asks.
I open my bag and take it out. “Turns out, it was with me the whole time.”
He laughs. “Well, I guess that’s a good thing. Drive safely.”
I drive away from the club, toward my building, but I don’t pull into the parking lot. I circle the neighborhood, not wanting to get out alone.
On my third pass by my building, I see Jesse’s car. I pull into the lot and watch as he tucks his into a shadowy corner.
I get out and walk inside, heading straight for the service entrance near the dumpsters.
He’s not inside the back door a second before I throw my arms around him.
“What’s this for?” he asks as he wraps his own around me.
“I just realized how much better I feel when you’re around.” I run my hand over his jaw. “I feel safe when you’re with me.”
A small smile tugs at his lips. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
His duffel bag is in one hand with my hand in his other as we ride the freight elevator. In my apartment, he sweeps the rooms, and then we relax.
We’re just standing here, in my living room. Me in my fancy dress and him in his uniform. I smile. By the look in his eyes, I know he’s wondering why I’m smiling.
“We look like we’re going to a funeral.”
He glances down. “Or we’re spies.”
I let out a laugh. “That too.” I motion to his bag. “I guess you’re having a sleepover.”
He tucks a hand in his pocket and looks up through his lashes. “I thought that was implied. I’m not leaving you.”
“I don’t want you to.”
With a puff of air through his lips, he nods and tucks a stray hair behind my ear. “I can sleep on the couch.”
“I don’t want you to do that either.”
He grins, and it’s wicked.
There’s a bottle of bourbon somewhere in my cabinet. It was a birthday gift from a friend. I tucked it in the back and never took it out because I don’t drink whiskey. Tonight seems like the time to try.
Kneeling down by the liquor cabinet, I find the box and have to blow off the dust resting on top. I take the bottle out and hold it up. “Care for a drink?”
He appreciatively eyes the bourbon. “Only one.”
I take out two lowball glasses and pour our drinks, handing him one as he takes a seat on the sofa. Before I sit, I slip my shoes off, so I can curl onto the couch with my legs bent.
I take a sip and cringe at the burn that runs down my throat.
Jesse laughs in that deep baritone that does wonderful things for my soul. “Why are you drinking bourbon when you hate hard liquor?”
“It seemed like the polite thing to do.”
“No. Polite was when you opened the bottle because you knew I’d drink it. Good sleuthing, by the way. You’d make an excellent spy.”
I roll my eyes. “It was literally sitting on your table.”
He sits back into the cushion and rests an arm across the back of the sofa. “What else did you notice?”
“Nothing much. You don’t own anything. A few magazines. You’re very neat, organized. You don’t require a lot. Just a bed, sofa, television. Did they come with the place?”
“I bought everything at an estate sale.”
“That explains the painting.” I try another sip, and it burns.
“My mother painted that.”
I almost spit out my drink. “Really? Wow. Well, it’s beautiful, and it explains why it’s in your bachelor pad. How did you get it here?”
He looks down into his glass, swirling the amber liquid and watching it create a mini tornado. “On my way to New York, I passed through Kentucky. Stopped at my parents’ house when they were at work and”—he pauses with a Cheshire cat smile—“stole it.”
I nearly drop my glass, so I put it down on the coffee table. “She must be freaking out! They probably think they were robbed.”
With a laugh, he nods. “She knows it was me. I left a note. Well, more like a sign. I left a bag of Hershey’s Kisses on the table below where it hung. That’s always been our thing. She’d put one in my lunchbox every day when I was growing up. When I was too old to get a packed lunch, she’d sneak them everywhere—in my backpack, my gym bag, my car. When I was sixteen, I had a dime bag of weed in my sock drawer. I went to get it one day and found it gone. In its place was a handful of kisses. She never screamed at me. She just wanted me to know that she knew what I was up to. It was enough for me to stop.”
“That’s really sweet.”
“It was okay. Not like when she pulled the same move when she found a Playboy magazine under my bed. I nearly died with embarrassment. Couldn’t look her in the eye for a week.”
“You got caught with a magazine under your bed? That’s so old school. Who reads Playboy anyway? Doesn’t everyone go to Pornhub?”
His eyes flare with intensity. “Not when you’re fourteen and your parents have every internet restriction on your devices. But please, tell me more about your internet habits.”
I lift my glass and shake my head. “Change of subject.”
That booming laugh of his echoes in my apartment. It sounds extra good, echoing off my walls. “Fine. Tell me what you were like in high school.”
“Easy. Math nerd. Total Goody Two-shoes. Went to school and got a job as soon as I had working papers. I was more into science than parties.”
“Nerds are sexy.”
I lift my chin, happily accepting the compliment. “Thank you. Although boys didn’t think so. Didn’t really date until college. No one intrigued me.”
“Until Anthony,” he says with a point.
“Until Anthony…” I sigh. “Part of me wondered how I’d react when I finally saw him after our breakup. There was a portion of my heart that thought it missed him. I’m happy to know it didn’t.” I smile proudly as I remember how I put him in his place tonight. “What about you? Girlfriends?”
“Many,” he answers easily, and I throw a pillow at him with a laugh. “Don’t hate. I was a wide receiver in a town that idolizes high school football.”
“Break a lot of hearts?”
“A few. It took me a while to realize what I wanted in a woman.” His eyes roam over mine, oozing with arousal.
I swallow and look away. My brow curves as I ask, “Since you’ve been undercover, have you been with anyone? What I mean is, am I the first …”
He sits up and lifts his knuckle to my chin, forcing me to keep my head from falling in despair. “I’ve never had a relationship of any kind with anyone since I joined the FBI. The risk was never worth the reward. Not until you.”
“Why me? Of all people, why am I worth possibly throwing away everything you’ve worked for?”
“Turns out, I like nerds.”
I lift my eyes to the ceiling as I smile. He takes my drink and places it back on the table along with his. In one swift motion, he lifts me by the hips and settles me on his lap, so I’m straddling him.
We join hands and sit here, smiling at each other.
“Better,” he says.
“Now, do you have any other questions?”
“A million,” I say as our fingers move and dance against each other’s. “First kiss?”
“Amanda Baker, during a game of Spin the Bottle.”
“Same! Robbie Donnelly. Horrible kisser. I felt like my mouth was being swallowed by a frog. Quite possibly why I wasn’t eager to kiss just any guy all through high school.”
“I have a question for you. Why did you study accounting in college?” he asks.
“I’m really good at numbers. I like them actually. Spreadsheets are kind of a turn-on for me. A good calculator is gold. I’d much rather get a nice Montblanc pen than a diamond tennis bracelet.”
With a laugh, he kisses my hand. “Told you. Nerds are so sexy.”
I hit him in the arm, and he tickles my sides, making me laugh. I’m in a fit of giggles, bending to the side as his hands move up and down my torso. I lean forward and bury my head into his neck.
“You have a great laugh,” he says.
“Good thing I’ve found a guy who can make me laugh.”
He brushes my hair off my face and tucks it behind my ear. “You know I’m your guy, right?”
I nod and rest my head against his hand.
“It’s you and me, Amelia. Just us.”
“Together.” The grin on his face says he’s happy with my response, but then he looks away. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” he lies.
“I know that look, Jesse. You think you’re protecting me, but you have no idea how well I know your body language. You promised you wouldn’t keep secrets from me. Don’t go back on it.”
“You want my truth?” he asks. “I’m worried because I don’t know what will happen to us when this is over. At the end of the day, I’m a special agent, and you’re the daughter of a mobster. He’ll never approve of me. And in my line of work, I can’t keep you.”
My heart falls at these words. He’s not saying anything I didn’t already know. I’d be a fool to continue this relationship with him, if you can even call it a relationship. Whatever it is, it’s dangerously wrong, and still, I can’t help but want it … even if it’s only for a short time.
“Let’s not worry about what will happen tomorrow. One day at a time, right? That’s what you said, and that’s what we’ll do. And tonight, I want nothing more than to be with a man. A strong, protective man who is so damn good. I want that goodness buried deep inside me. Can you give me that?”
Fire and desire blaze in his eyes. His lips part, and his chest puffs as I release my hands from his and slowly unbutton his shirt. When it’s undone, I push it off his shoulders, forcing him to sit up fully so I can remove it completely.
My mouth lowers to kiss the spot above his heart before I rise to my feet and slowly unzip my dress, letting it pool to the floor.
I’m standing here in my bra and underwear, exposed to him in offering. He doesn’t hesitate as he stands and takes me in his arms and kisses me senseless.
“I need you to know if I could keep you, I would,” he speaks into our kiss.
“I know you would. And I’d forsake my family to have you as mine.”
He stops and looks at me as if I’d just saved his life. “You really mean that?”
“On my life,” I swear and watch as the intense suit of armor he wears fades, leaving a man totally vulnerable in its place.
I undo my bra and toss it onto the couch, and then I shimmy out of my panties while he undoes his belt and removes his pants and boxers. A condom is slid on, and he resumes his place on the couch with me climbing on top of him.
His mouth is on my breast, sucking on a pert nipple, licking and nipping, while he rubs his hand over the neglected one. I gyrate my hips over his sleeved cock and am drenched from the friction.
I move swiftly and slide him deep inside me. He curses sweetly against my mouth, and we grip on to each other, my hand clenching on to the back of his hair, his holding my head, firm yet gentle. With an arm around the other, we move slowly yet with so much purpose that our orgasms build.
Mouths are tangled in kisses of passion as we breathe each other’s air, inhaling our needs and wants. He’s a force of nature, his lips moving swiftly, taking me under his spell. I know I’ll be broken when it’s over, but goddamn, I can’t help but pull him closer.
“You’re like a dream,” he breathes as he lifts his hips to bury himself so far deep inside me that I’ll never be able to remove him from my heart.
“Let’s not wake up,” I promise as I explode around him.
“Never,” he utters as he comes inside me.
We don’t let go of each other for hours. We tell stories of our pasts and share some of our fears. It’s the most intimate I’ve ever been in my entire life. And I’m happy in this bed. Truly content.
It’s just Jesse and me, against the world.
Chapter Thirteen
I rise the same as yesterday—to an empty bed and the smell of coffee in the air. As I pass the dresser, I see Jesse’s things, including his wallet and the envelope Uncle Enzo handed him yesterday. I want to look inside yet decide against it. I take it and walk down into the kitchen.
“Do you ever sleep?” I ask when I see him in the kitchen, dressed and drinking a cup of coffee.
“Do you ever put clothes on in the morning?” He grins at the sight of me wrapped in a sheet and nothing more for the second day in a row. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Good.” I hold up the envelope. “You gonna tell me what’s inside?”
“That depends. Did you peek?”
I lower my chin. “If I did, would I be asking?”
With a tilt of his head, he raises a finger, letting me know I made a good point. “Twenty thousand dollars.”
“Twenty. Thousand. Dollars?”
“Think it should have been more?” The way his mouth tilts up on one side lets me know he’s joking.
I stare at the thick envelope and hand it to him. “What are you going to do with it?”
“I have to report that I received it, but since it was given to me while undercover, I’m gonna use it for rent.”
“Makes sense.” With a shimmy of my shoulders, I think it over. “I should yell at my uncle. Saving my life is worth so much more than twenty grand.”
“Fucking priceless.” Jesse leaps forward and tackles me, swinging me around in his arms so my back is against his front while he kisses my neck.
I giggle and laugh at the assault. As his mouth comes to close over mine, I push him away. “No. I have to brush my teeth!”
“I thought we weren’t wasting any more kisses?”
He’s right. I drop the sheet and throw my arms over his neck, kissing him as if Jesse Davenport is the only thing in the world worth believing in.
His lips are on my neck while my hands are in his hair. We’re making out, hot and heavy, me bare in the middle of my kitchen while his hands explore every curve.
My lips part, ready to tell him to take me right here on the floor, when the front door bursts open.
Jesse pushes me behind him, grabs a Glock from the cabinet—a gun that I had no idea was there, by the way—and aims it at the door.
Sienna’s dark hair comes into view, as do her arms, which go straight up in the air. Then, she crouches down, pulling the door closed in front of her for protection.
“Holy shit!” she shouts from the other side of the door.
I push Jesse’s arms down. “It’s Sienna.”
“I can see that. What are you doing, walking into Amelia’s apartment like that?” he asks her.
“What the fuck are you doing with a gun?” she shouts.
He puts the gun back into the kitchen cabinet. “It’s clear. You can come out now.”
I’m gathering the sheet from the floor and putting it around my body while Sienna slowly comes out from behind the door and into my apartment.
“Close it,” Jesse demands, making Sienna look at me for confirmation that i
t’s safe inside.
“You’re okay,” I tell her.
She shuts the door and then places a hand on her hip and the other on her chest, calming herself down. “So, again, why does the bartender have a gun?”
“I believe in the Second Amendment,” he answers nonchalantly.
“You’re lucky I told my shadows to wait in the lobby. If I’m not down in five minutes, they’re coming up.” She motions between Jesse and me. My current state of undress gives everything away. “So, when did this happen?”
“Last night,” I answer.
“We’d appreciate your discretion. Amelia’s father might not approve,” Jesse adds.
“No shit, Sherlock. You’re the staff, and she’s a princess. But no one is going to care because we have bigger issues going on right now.”
Jesse and I look at each other, wondering what she’s talking about.
“Your father’s in the hospital,” she states.
“What!” I gasp, feeling my heart pulsing under my skin and the dread shaking down my spine.
“You’d know if you checked your phone. I’ve been calling you all morning. He was shot, Amelia. Your father is in the hospital, and they don’t know if he’s going to live.”
Teeth are brushed, sweats are thrown on, and I even manage to grab matching sneakers that I tie in the elevator. Sienna and I leave in the back seat of her town car mere minutes after her announcement. Having her bodyguards coming up and seeing Jesse in my apartment was the last thing I needed right now. I can’t text him. I can’t call. I can just hope that he shows up at our meeting spot outside the hospital. I look in my bag and see he tossed in a phone charger and a banana. I can’t eat it though.
I’ve been so mad at my father the last few days. Between the revelation of his crimes, the secrecy, and his abandonment, I’ve cared little about him.
That’s all changed now.
“Any news?” I ask Sienna, who has her face buried in her phone. When I see the hesitation, I level my eyes with hers.
“He answered the door to accept a delivery when he was shot in the abdomen. I don’t know anything else.”
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