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And God it feels good.
Like nothing I’ve ever known.
Her tightness. Her sweetness. Her soft little whimpers that make me want to hold her in my arms and never let go.
She’s warm and supple, and as much as I want to spend hours inside her, I don’t want to hurt her, so I let go, exploding inside her with a deep, heavy growl as my orgasm spreads through me like a warm rush of water.
Afterward, I pull her into my arms and hold her against my chest and know deep down in my gut that I am doomed.
The phone call comes just as the first ray of sunlight breaches the horizon. It buzzes me out of a dreamless sleep. Bianca stirs against me, and I groan at my erection that is demanding attention.
I glance at the time on my phone as I answer Matteo’s call, seeing it’s 6:12 a.m.
“This better be important,” I growl.
Bianca moves away from me in her sleep, but I pull her back and hold her against my chest, not ready to let her go. I close my eyes, enjoying her warmth, briefly thinking about what I am going to do to her when I hang up the phone.
She might be too sore and sensitive, but there are other ways we can pleasure each other. Christ, just the thought of her hot little mouth on my cock sends a rapacious thrill into my groin. I’m going to feast on her pussy until she is writhing in pleasure on the bed beneath me.
Matteo’s voice pulls me back to the present. “I just had a call from one of my contacts at the police department. Tony Vinocelli and his sons are dead.”
My eyes flick open. “What the fuck happened?”
“I don’t know yet. But something big is going down. The detectives are just arriving on scene. I’m in a car a few doors down. There are so many cops and ambulances, the street is lit up like the Fourth of July.”
Suddenly, my day is looking very different and far less pleasurable than spending hours in bed with Bianca.
I untangle myself from her luscious body, trying not to disturb her, and pull on my pants while I’m talking to Matteo. “Who are the lead detectives?”
“Domic and Ford.”
“Good.” Both of them are friends of the De Kysa. I don’t call on them often, but I will be calling on them today. “I’m on my way.”
“You want me to stay here and lay low?”
“Yes, but call Dante. I want a couple of men posted outside my door while Bianca is staying here.”
“You think Vinocelli’s demise has something to do with Bianca?”
“I have forty-two million reasons to think it does.”
I hang up and dress quickly. There’s no time to shower. Later, when I’m home, I’ll shower with Bianca and take her against the wet tiles of the shower. Again, my body protests leaving her.
On my way out, I pause by the bed to watch her.
I don’t know what any of this means—the murders, her missing money, my feelings for her—but I know she’s my priority now, and I won’t stop until she’s safe and those responsible for ruining her life are forced to face her retribution.
I lean down and brush a strand of hair from her face.
“Is everything okay?” she murmurs sleepily, her long lashes fanning her cheeks.
“It’s more than okay,” I reply, thinking how beautiful she is.
“What was the phone call?”
“Nothing, just business. I have to go tend to it, but I’ll be back soon. Rest up.” My lips brush her ear. “You’re going to need it.”
She smiles softly and disappears into sleep again.
Pulling on my suit jacket, I head for the door.
It hurts leaving her, but I need to figure out how the pieces in this puzzle fit together.
First Harrison and now the Vinocelli.
This all started when Bianca asked me to help her find her money.
And my gut tells me the person who has it wants to stop her from finding it.
There are five dead bodies inside the Vinocelli compound. I’m standing beside the body of one of Tony’s bodyguards. He was sitting at the table when he was gunned down—a bullet to the back of his skull. Now, his face is slumped against the table, and there’s blood and brains in his nearby coffee.
A second bodyguard lies dead only a few feet away on the kitchen floor, blood pooling on the white tiles beneath his head.
“Tony is upstairs,” Domic says. “I can take you up there but then you really gotta let forensics do their stuff.”
Domic and Ford weren’t exactly thrilled to let Matteo and me into their crime scene. But they granted us ten minutes to walk the scene with them.
Matteo and I follow Domic up the winding staircase to the landing and down the hallway to where Tony Vinocelli lies dead in his bedroom doorway. Dressed in nothing but his robe and a pair of bed shorts, he’s on his stomach, head turned to the side, and his lifeless eyes staring out at nothing.
