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I keep my attention glued to Brad. “Everything is just fine. Bradley here was just leaving.”
The asshole snorts, but his knees shake as he takes the few steps to his car.
Before he opens the door, I grab onto his forearm, digging my fingers into his taut muscle. “You ever set foot in Chicago again and I will kill you in the most painful way imaginable. You ever try to contact Mia in any way ever again and I will tell the entire world about you and your whole fucked-up family. You got me?”
His nostrils flare.
I squeeze tighter, enjoying the pain that flashes across his face. He deserves so much more than that, but we are where we are. “I asked you a fucking question.”
“Yes,” he hisses.
I release my grip and let him climb back into his shit-box car. All the while, I feel Dante’s eyes on me, willing me not to waste a cop in front of our own house with my niece and nephews a few feet away. For their sake, and their sake alone, I don’t.
ChapterFifteen
LORENZO
Anger courses in my veins like it’s my lifeblood as I stalk back through the house, leaving my younger brother alone in the study. I explained what happened with Brad today, but I kept Lionel’s findings to myself for now. No point telling only half the story. Dante talked me out of my plan to dispose of Brad Mulcahy. He thinks we should play it smart and wait for Brad to fuck his own life up, but I can’t help feeling like we’d be doing the entire world a favor by ending that piece of shit’s existence.
I walk into the library, hoping for a little quiet, but she’s here. Of course she’s here. She’s fucking everywhere.
“Are you okay?” she asks, her voice full of concern.
I pace up and down the room, running my hands through my hair. Do I tell her that her sack of shit husband was just here? No, I can’t. She might decide to run, and if she left… I don’t know what the fuck I’d do, but I do know I like having her here. Despite her being a constant source of tension and distraction.
“Lorenzo?”
Thick knots of tension build in my muscles. She’s close enough that her scent washes over me. Too close. My dick strains at my zipper, pulsing and aching for relief. Every drop of blood rushes south, making it hard to breathe, and when I do manage to draw air, she fills my lungs. I can taste her, like a python senses its prey. I need to get the fuck out of here. Away from her soft body and her intoxicating scent.
Mia smiles sweetly. Is she aware of the effect she has on me? If she is, she should run. Instead, she comes closer. So fucking close, I swear I can hear her heartbeat. Or is that mine? I can’t even think straight anymore.
I stop pacing and stand still, chest heaving as I stare at her. She places her hand on my chest, right over my hammering heart, and leans close. So goddamn close. Her breath dusts along my neck and my cock twitches, letting me know he’s running the show from here on out. My brain checks out, happily handing over the reins.
“Tell me what’s wrong. What do you need?”
I suck in a breath, lazily looking over her curves. Her fingers twitch and my very last shred of restraint snaps. “What if what I need is you, Mia?” The words rumble out of me like a growl.
“You know you can have me any time you want, right?” she whispers.
Blinding light flashes in my eyes, and a surge of adrenaline propels me forward. My hand is around her throat, pushing her back until she’s perched on the edge of the desk, her fingers splayed out on either side of her hips. She spreads her thighs, allowing me to step between them and press my body flat against hers. She holds my gaze, daring me to keep going.
I can’t.
I shouldn’t.
But I do.
I fist my free hand in her honey-blond hair and hold her head still. My other hand slides down her body, over the pillowy curve of her breasts, eliciting a needy moan from her lips. Those lips. Fucking plump and begging to be wrapped around my cock. I crash my mouth down on hers, swallowing her sounds as my hand travels lower, over the arc of her hip and around to her ass. I squeeze hard, and her soft flesh yields to my touch as though it’s been lying dormant waiting for my fingertips. She parts her lips, allowing my tongue inside to explore the recesses of her mouth. She tastes so fucking sweet, and suddenly she is everything and everywhere.
My heart beats frantically against my ribcage, like it’s trying to break free and remind me that we’re broken and we can’t do this. But I am lost in the feel of her soft flesh beneath my hands, her delicious scent in my nose and her taste on my tongue. How good would the rest of her taste?
She rocks her hips forward, grinding her pussy on my cock, and precum weeps from the crown. If I don’t come soon, I will die from a fucking heart attack. She pulls back, panting for breath as she runs a hand through my hair and tugs, tilting my head so that I’m staring into her hazel eyes.
“Fuck me,” she breathes out the words.
Holy mother of fucks. I almost choke on air, swaying on my feet as violent waves of desire crash over me. My head pounds, my cock aches. I lift her onto the desk and slide a hand between her thighs, my fingertips kneading her soft flesh as I work my way up to the apex. The place where I can lose myself in her.
Pulling her panties aside, I brush my knuckles over her slick folds. So fucking hot and inviting. I want inside her. I want to feel her.
