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“Nico Valducci.” I say the name he wouldn’t. “My father’s been in bed with him for years.”
“Yeah, I know.”It’s why I came to you.”
“I have a meeting set up with Valducci early next week. To discuss the fact that I’m not as amenable to organized crime in my casino as my father has always been.”
“Do you.” Ethan’s thinking now. But so am I. And already I can see a couple avenues to exploit—if we’re careful. And we don’t mind getting our hands a little dirty.
Normally, I’m not a guy who likes to play in the shadows. Things are right or they’re wrong. After all, there’s not a lot of moral ambiguity that comes with lying, stealing, cheating, killing. But for this—for a chance to bring Nico Valducci down after all these years and help Ethan get justice for his woman? Yeah. For that I’m willing to get my hands dirty. And I won’t even have trouble sleeping afterward.
“What are you thinking?” Ethan asks after a minute and I’m just opening my mouth to tell him when there’s a sudden commotion at the door. I turn around just in time to see Aria burst through it, looking wilder and hotter than I’ve ever seen her.
She’s dressed in a crimson sundress that hugs every one of her curves even as it makes her olive skin glow. One of the straps has slid down her arm and her hair is a just-rolled-out-of-bed mess. But it’s a captivating look on her, one that has my mind flashing to about a million different things I’d like to do with her—all of which start with plopping her firm, lush ass on my desk and burying my face between her thighs. For hours.
I’m so distracted by the thought of making her come that I almost miss the upset on her face, confusion mixed with hurt and panic and fear. Once I get past her breasts and it sinks in, though, I’m off the couch and heading toward her in an instant. “What’s wrong, Aria? Are you—”
“Fuck me.”
I freeze in my tracks. “What did you say?”
“I want you to fuck me. Right now. Please.”
Ethan rockets up from his chair, shoots me a look that is half-amused, half-concerned. “I will take that as my cue to leave.”
The fact that Aria doesn’t even glance his way tells me all I need to know about her state of mind. All thoughts of Valducci and revenge disappear in my sudden worry for her.
“Baby.” I cross the last of the distance between us and pull her body flush against mine. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just been thinking about what you said on the phone earlier and I want it. I want all of it now.”
Then she’s lifting onto her tiptoes, pressing her mouth against mine in an open-mouthed kiss so hot it’s practically pornographic. Behind her, I hear the snick of the door, telling me that Ethan has shown himself out.
Something’s wrong. I know it, can feel it in the way she’s holding herself, in the way she’s holding me. But I also know that, whatever’s made her this upset, this is what she wants to get over it. This is what she’s asking me for.
After everything I’ve said, everything I’ve promised her these last couple of days, I’m not going to deny her now. Not when she’s aching and desperate and so, so vulnerable.
That knowledge—that understanding—is the last straw. With a muffled groan, I pick her up and carry her over to my desk while she wraps those long, gorgeous legs of hers around my waist. A quick sweep of my arm has binders and random papers flying off the desk and onto the floor. And then her ass is exactly where I’ve been imagining it, balanced precariously on the polished wood of my desk as I reach beneath her dress and rip her panties right off her.
Chapter Five
Aria
Sebastian can make it better.
Those five words have been my mantra since I fled my parents’ house half an hour ago, since I ran away from the words my father fired at me like precision-strike, heat-seeking missiles.
Words like responsibility. Family. Duty. Lucy.
My God. Lucy.
After everything that’s happened—everything I’ve done and everything that’s been done to me—I can’t think about Lucy right now. Can’t think about how much she’s hurting. Can’t think about all the time I’m missing with her because I won’t—because I can’t—bend to my father’s demands.
No, I promise myself as I yank Sebastian’s dress shirt free from his pants so that I can slide my hands under it and claw at the slick, hot skin of his back. All I’m going to think about right now is him and this moment and the way he makes me feel.
It’s not an answer, not even close. But for now—when I feel like one more mistake, one more threat, one more rejection will send me spiraling out of control—it’s enough. And when Sebastian lowers his lips to the hollow of my throat, when he nips sharply at my collarbone at the same time he thrusts two fingers inside me, it’s more than enough. When he’s slow, he’s really, really slow—teasing and tasting, sucking and stroking his way over every part of my body. And when he’s fast—
I gasp as his fingers twist sharply inside of me and send me hurtling over the edge into an orgasm I didn’t even know I was close to. As my body slowly comes down from the heights, I can’t help but finish the thought. When he’s fast, Sebastian is wicked. Wonderful. Wild.
“Aria.” His whisper is harsh to my ears, even as he works his way down my collarbone to my breasts. I arch my spine, feeling like a fucking contortionist as I struggle to get his mouth around my nipple. But just when I’m tugging at his hair, hard, he pushes back against me. Lifts his head. Looks me dead in the eye and asks, “Do we need to talk about this?”
