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“Oh my god. Your bed is so comfy.” I rolled over three times and made it to the edge of the bed. Then I rolled back toward him.
“You’ve been in my bed before.” He lay on his back with his head against the pillow, his hard physique lined with all the bulging muscles of his body. Despite his criminal ways, he wasn’t covered in scars. He didn’t have a bullet wound in his shoulder like I did.
“But I was too busy getting fucked to enjoy it.”
I cuddled into his side and slipped my leg between his. “How do you get up in the morning?”
“Easy. I think about you.” He moved his fingers through my hair and grinned.
I gave him a playful slap. “Perv.”
“I’m a perv?” he asked. “I don’t wipe away a man’s come as it drips down my thighs then lick it.”
“That doesn’t make me a perv. I just didn’t want it to go to waste.”
“I’m glad you think my come is so valuable.” His hand cupped the back of my head as he turned on his side. He faced me and pressed his forehead against mine, his hard chest pushing against my tits.
“It’s Grade A come.”
He hiked my leg over his waist and held me close, closer than we’d ever been before. His hand slowly grazed up my thigh to my hip before it moved back down again. We’d had dinner hours ago, and we’d been in bed ever since. Our lovemaking was only interrupted when we finished the third round.
Now we just lay together.
“If my brother was an asshole to you, I apologize.” His fingers trailed through my hair then down the back of my neck. He gently stroked me, gently treasured every inch of my body like he’d never explored it before.
“He wasn’t.”
“You’re covering for him. That makes me like you more.”
“Why would I cover for him?” The guilt started to weigh on me again. I’d already confirmed with Damien what the plan would be, but I was lying in Cato’s bed like that’d never happened.
“Because we’re close. You don’t want to cause a rift between us.”
Perhaps Cato was more observant than I realized. I just hoped he wasn’t too observant.
“You don’t care about my money. You don’t care about my power. If you did, you would turn me against my brother so I would distrust everything he said. Then it would be easier for you to get your way. Instead, you want to preserve the relationship—because you care about me. I know how you are, baby. If someone crosses you, you won’t hesitate to cross them back. And I know my brother—he’s a fucking asshole. But you put up with it.”
I covered for Bates because he was only protecting his brother. I never thought my actions would make Cato trust me more—especially when I was a liar. All of this wasn’t real. It was built on lies. Bates could see that, but Cato couldn’t.
I hated myself.
Why couldn’t there be a better way?
Even if I told Cato the truth and he took it well, Bates would kill me.
I knew that for certain.
I moved my face into his chest so I wouldn’t have to meet his gaze any longer. In my heart, I knew this man only pretended to be an asshole to protect himself. He was cold to everyone around him because he knew they would use him the second he gave them a chance. He was the toughest man in the world in order to keep the other tough guys at bay. But he dropped all that hostility for me…because he trusted me.
God, I was going to be sick again.
17
Cato
I had a meeting in one of my offices in Florence. It was in the building across the street from the coffee shop—the very one where I’d spoken to Siena for the first time. She had been reading a book and stalking me like an amateur. I always knew she was harmless because she was doing it alone.
I was only present at meetings when there was a lot of money on the table. These men from France were looking for someone to invest in their underground brothels, an underground world of sex. Unlike trafficking, this was straight-up prostitution. I’d paid for sex a lot in my life, so I didn’t pass judgment.
Bates came into the room unexpectedly. He didn’t even knock. “Cato, I need to talk to you.” The vein in his forehead was throbbing dangerously, which told me he was about to explode in rage. Whatever pissed him off had really pissed him off.
“Can it wait fifteen minutes?” I was sitting across from the Frenchmen, with the contracts sitting on the table.
“No.” He glanced at our clients then back at me. “I’m sorry, it can’t.”
I knew Bates wouldn’t interrupt me unless it was important, so I cooperated. “I apologize, Mr. Beaumont and Mr. Champlain. Would you mind if I stepped out for twenty minutes?”
