“What are friends if they can’t trust each other, goombah?” He rose, buttoning his suit jacket. “Besides, I’m sure you know that if we can make McNamara move his tongue to say the right words, we can also make him shut his mouth forever. How much time do you think people serve for manslaughter in here? With your priors and him being the mayor’s nephew… Good God, they can push for life. Che guaio. Shit would be really hard on you, and your poor son would lose both his fathers. I wouldn’t want that for you or him.”
CHAPTER 6
Jo
I didn’t know what possessed me to masturbate to Laius Lazzarini. A convict. An outlaw that headed one of the most vicious, one-percenter motorcycle clubs in the country, perhaps even in the world.
Anybody who lived in California long enough, especially in San Francisco, knew what the Night Skulls were and what they did in America and Europe. There were horror stories about the criminal activities and abductions the San Francisco chapter was involved in before its destruction a few years ago, in the fire that allegedly killed all the members that were at their compound in Rosewood.
I wouldn’t even begin to delude myself about the nature of the Houston chapter and their president. He was in prison for beating a man almost to death, threatening a woman at gunpoint and almost killing them if she didn’t call the cops in time. No logic could justify my ghastly attraction to such a brutal criminal.
Except attraction needed no logic and knew no rules or boundaries.
My heart squeezed as my gaze roamed around the foreign periodical section—the most secluded section—at the back of the school library. Where my first kiss was stolen from me. Where I first lost all common sense and caution and broke all the rules.
It’d been a cold day, and the nightmares had been having a field day with me. After several coffees, I’d managed to teach my classes until fourth period. Then exhaustion overwhelmed me. The teacher’s lounge was too loud and crowded, so I’d used my lunch time to come to the library and rest. Wrong? Maybe, but my other options had been either the toilet or my car. Both would have been freezing and not a nice look for me if I’d been caught. The library had been the safest option. No one went to that aisle unless they were about to have sex. I’d convinced myself I was doing the school a favor by being there to scare away the students—and teachers—who had had any intension to exploit the space fornonacademic activities. How virtuous of me, right?
Using my jacket as a pillow, I’d dozed off at the secluded aisle. It’d been the best sleep I’d had in months. Until a warm breath had whispered in my ear, waking me up.
“You’re so beautiful. So fucking beautiful,” a voice had been whispering. No one had ever called me beautiful in a whisper before. It’d felt like a dream. A good one for a change. I didn’t want to wake up.
Something had feathered down my cheekbone and along my jawline, sending a shiver down my spine and a clench between my thighs. This couldn’t have been right. I never had good dreams, let alone wet ones…that had felt so real. My eyes had snapped open, and I’d seen it.
His heart melting smile that had had the girls in Raoul Sala High swooning met my startled gaze. I blinked at his tattooed hand that was withdrawing from my face, leaving me more confused. Had he really touched me?
“I didn’t mean to startle you, Miss Meneceo.” The dark green abysses had held me immobile, being that close—too close for my sanity—for the first time. That voice that didn’t belong to a boy but a man, a very masculine man, was even moredistractingwhen it whispered. “I was just checking if you were all right. You looked so peaceful when you were sleeping.”
“Tirone.” I’d blinked hard, frowning, his smell mixed with that of his leather jacket, filling the very little air he’d allowed between us. He’d been squatting in front of me on the floor, his arms stretched by my side as he’d held the shelf behind me, caging me in that little space. “You’re not supposed to be here. What are you… What—”
“Hushh. We’re in the library,” he’d said playfully. “You don’t want someone to come here and think…”
“Think what?” I’d lowered my voice in shock.
“That we snuck here to do what people actually come to do in this aisle.”
I’d gaped at him. “Oh my God. Are you out of your mind? This is inappropriate even as a joke, so is your presence here…like that. You have to go. Now,” I’d said as firmly as possible.
His eyes had traveled from my face down to my neck, and then to my chest. “You should put on your jacket. I don’t want anyone to see you like that.”
Frowning, I’d looked down at my blouse. Instantly, my eyes had widened. A button must have come undone in my sleep because I’d seen my bra and half of my breasts from that view and he must have, too.
My mouth too dry to swallow, I’d grabbed my jacket and stood. He’d moved with me, his arms still forming that cage around me, his height towering over me. I’d pressed the jacket to my chest to cover up. “Tirone, move out of the way.”
“Not until I do this.”
Before I could have opened my mouth to ask, heat had scorched my lips. It’d taken me a moment to register Tirone Wisely’s lips, my student’s lips, were on mine, sending flutters in my heart, sucking all my power, swallowing me in flames.
Without knowing, giving me my first kiss. Or rather stealing it.
I’d been too dazed by the flooding sensations and searing inferno erupting through my body to stop him right away, and for one unholy moment, my brain had shut down and my ovaries took over, urging me to let him finish what he started without interruptions.
Just for one moment. Then my palm had found his cheek in a slap.
Stunned, we both had stared at each other. I was desperate for my sunglasses to hide behind them, but in foggy San Francisco, I couldn’t wear them all the time, especially in winter. I’d worn my contacts that day. Brown. But I’d felt he’d seen right through them, right through me. His face was so red, with shock, shame or anger, I hadn’t known, but I’d had no doubt mine was even redder with all of those. “What the hell have you done? Are you crazy?”
“Yes,” he’d hissed. “Youhave been driving me crazy for months. Months, Jo.”
“What?”
