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“I admire your tenacity and your loyalty. Loyalty is necessary in our world.”
“I’m not in your world,” I huffed, ignoring the frustrating shrug of his shoulders that said, “You say tomato, I say tomahto.” “And don’t mock me by calling me that. I betrayed her.”
He tugged my head back hard, eliciting a gasp from me.
“Hey,” he snapped. “We were engaged in name only. We never spent time together. I never touched her. She and Luca were in love from the instant they met each other. She and I meant nothing.”
“You think saying that makes what we did okay? Also, I saw the way you treated her—more like ignored her—and it didn’t endear you to me. Which brings up another thing… You’re not even my type. For one thing, you’re mafie. I hate your world and its backward traditions, like the blood bond. I should be with a nice guy. I deserve to be with a nice guy, a safe guy, and that will never be you.”
“Baby doll, I may not be a nice guy, but have no doubt, I’m exactly your type. You fucking melt under my touch. Don’t try to deny it, or I’ll slip my hand down your panties right this instant and prove you wrong.”
Oh, God. He knew. He absolutely knew that our little spat made me wet. I’d never met a man so wrong for me, yet who turned me on so badly. Even worse, I knew he was a man who did bad things, but the truth was that everything he did—his touch, his nickname for me, even the dirty words that slipped out of his cruel mouth—made me turn to liquid. He’d snuffed out my anger like a tiny flame between his long, slim fingers, reducing me to a pile of mush.
But the way we’d hooked up had been wrong, and there was no moving on from that awful mistake.
I had to deflect his charm and try to save myself. I had to fight the good fight, so I lied, “Ugh, that nickname. Why do you call me baby doll? It’s godawful. I’m a grown woman. It’s terrible, just terrible.”
His voice dropped. “Oh, believe me, I’m well aware that you’re grown.” His hand slid down to cup my ass. Oh, shit. “I call you baby doll because that’s what you are to me. When Luca and I were kids, we’d get the same toys, even though we were five years apart. No idea why, other than that Mama always thought we should be treated equally.”
His eyes darkened to that scary “thunder in the sky” color as he stared off into the distance. “Maybe because our father treated him differently.”
He shook his head and was back with me. “Anyway…he would treasure his. He’d take care of his toy, play with it gently, and return it to its original packaging afterward, to preserve it. Meanwhile, I would wreck mine within the hour, using and abusing it as if it were made of steel.” One side of his mouth quirked up at the memory.
“But you, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen,” he confided in a low, gravelly tone. His eyes glided down my body, leaving it tingly as if he’d touched me with a gentle caress. “For the first time, I want to treasure something as precious as you. You are a jewel, and just for once, I don’t want to break it. I want to keep it near and coddle it.”
My core melted. He touched me in places that my soul hadn’t been touched since Dad was taken away from Mother and me.
He touched my cheek, letting his fingers ripple along my jawline and down my throat. Collaring me, he continued, his voice turning rough, “And fuck you like you’re my toy. A toy I want to treat oh so right.” His fingers slid down to cup my breast, his thumb rubbing my nipple. “I want to—no, need to—hear you scream my name again while you come on my cock. It’s non-fucking-negotiable, Jewel. I need it. I need you.”
He walked me back into the wall, letting me feel his hard cock against my belly. “The mask you show the world is of a strong woman, but with me, you can be a pampered little doll.” His hands fell to my waist. “Let me take care of you. Pull down your panties, lift you up, and settle you on my cock. Bounce you up and down like the precious little fuckdoll you are, while you claw my back with your tiny nails and bite my neck until you scream out your release.”
By now, my chest was heaving up and down, rubbing against him with every elevation and descent.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he mused.
I was a red-blooded woman, wasn’t I? I’d had his cock. I was well aware of what it could do. They were things no man had done to me before.
His lips were on my battering pulse at the base of my throat, and moans were coming out of my mouth as I rubbed against him frantically. Fuck, I wanted him. Fuck, fuck, FUCK! He knew I was weak when it came to him.
I couldn’t. I couldn’t do this again. It was one thing to mess up once. I was barely over it, but to do it twice was really bad. Plus, the irrevocable fact that he would always be a mob guy. It wasn’t only in his family; it was in his blood. His lips had turned to teeth, and he was sucking my flesh into his mouth, probably leaving a mark on purpose, the fucker.
“Stop,” I threw out. My hands came up and clutched at his shirt. I was weak, so weak, but I had to be strong.
“Stop,” I begged again, my voice husky.
He gave a last nip before pulling away and slapping a hand against the wall beside my head. Frustration wafted off him. His eyes were wild. God, I loved seeing him undone. His biceps bulged against the fabric of his jacket as he raked his fingers through his perfectly coiffed hair, leaving it looking just fucked. This was how I liked him best. With his iron-clad restraint slipping.
If I was his doll, then he was my beast. Wild, untamed, and savage. I liked it too much, which meant I could fall for this guy. He was right when he said he was my type of guy. I should want a nice guy, a guy that didn’t come from a complicated family and an even more complicated world. But he was the guy that made my skin crackle, that made me feel alive.
Which meant I had only one choice.
To shut it down.
