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I was no longer jealous, but the reminder of her close relationship with her family bummed me out. She was loyal to them, and they were loyal to her. Her family would never approve of me—because they weren’t stupid. I would never be good enough for Carmen Barsetti—and I knew it. “It’s beautiful. Beautiful like you.” My fingers moved through her hair, and I focused on her eyes, forgetting the necklace that reminded me Carmen would never truly be mine.
Her hands moved into my hair, and she kissed me, kissed me like there wasn’t a load of come sitting inside her at that moment. She pressed her sexy body against mine, her nipples dragging against my hard body and bringing my cock to life. “I want more of you…”
Now that Carmen was back in my bed, I was able to focus on other aspects of my life. I had a business to run, and that was impossible to do if I was thinking about pussy nonstop. I didn’t have as much sex when I was single as I did with Carmen, but ironically, I craved sex even more. It didn’t matter how satisfied I was—it was never enough.
While Carmen was at work, Ronan came by my penthouse. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, an outfit I hardly saw him wear. The only time I saw him was at work, and he was usually in a suit like I was.
He stepped off the elevator and scanned the room. “Is your toy here?”
“She’s at work.” I walked up to him and embraced him with a gentle pat on the shoulder. I was working on my relationship with my brother, trying to be more than just coworkers. I couldn’t remember a time when we hugged, but it seemed too soon for that. A pat on the shoulder was more contact than we’d had in years.
He mirrored the affection and did the same to me, a smile in his eyes. “Where does she work?”
“She owns a flower shop.”
“Really?” he asked, grinning. “That’s cute.” He moved to a seat on the couch and got comfortable on the leather cushion. “Suits her well.”
“It does.”
“And that’s pretty impressive that she owns her own business. I could tell the woman was smart, but she continues to impress me.” He looked around the room, as if he was searching for something. “You got a cigar?”
“No smoking in the penthouse.”
“Really?” he asked, cringing. “That sucks.”
“Smoke when you leave.” I didn’t even have cigars because I quit a few weeks ago. After Carmen asked me to, I listened. Hearing her admit she cared about me was more than enough motivation to keep me smoke-free. “So, what brings you here?”
“They’ve decided to hold a high-stakes game tonight. Five players. We’ve got four seats filled, but they’re holding the last one for you. Do you want in? Or are you going to pass?”
“What’s the buy-in?”
“Twenty-five million.”
I loved high-stakes poker games. They didn’t happen often, at least not at my level. Men liked to play for a few million, not tens of millions. It was too enticing to pass up. I’d always been a gambling man, and I would never change my ways. Thankfully, I made so much money that my losses weren’t devastating—not that I lost often. “I’m in.”
He grinned. “I knew you wouldn’t say no.”
I had to work tonight anyway. I didn’t want to stand aside and watch the others have a good time. I loved the tension, the suffocating intensity. We were constantly trying to decipher each other’s moves while we were at the mercy of the random stack of cards. There was no foretelling what might happen.
“Bringing your lady?”
I’d already brought her once, and she wasn’t a huge fan of the casino. But I loved having her on my arm, loved making every man in that building hate me even more than they already did. We had incredible sex on the leather couch in my office then slept there until morning. Besides, she wouldn’t be sleeping the entire time I was gone, so she might as well come with me. “Yes.”
“Great. I like you better when you’re with her.”
“Didn’t realize my company was so unbearable,” I said sarcastically.
“Think about it.” Ronan leaned back against the couch, getting comfortable even though he’d only been there a handful of times. “This is the first time we’ve connected in five years—and you happen to be seeing her.”
“Our relationship has nothing to do with Carmen. I care about you whether or not she’s in the picture.”
“Yeah, but she softens you a bit. She makes you better.”
I couldn’t deny that part. I’d never felt an ounce of any kind of emotion until she came into the picture. I never talked about my mom with anyone, but I opened up to her so easily. I admitted things I’d been too ashamed to say out loud.
