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Then he hammers into me, banging me against the table like a man on a mission. It’s all the way every time, and it feels so fucking good. My body hums, aches, and begs for more.
Fast, hard, dirty, and he comes, not even stopping to urge me on. I don’t need him to because I come, too, and it’s violent and wild, and I want it all over again. He bucks on me, cock twitching as I clamp down on him over and over, and when he’s done, he lays there a moment before turning me to kiss me.
He then picks me up in his arms and holds me.
Like it or not, a few tears break free.
I slip my fingers into the chain. I want to ask, but I’m afraid because it has to mean something to him. He isn’t a jewelry or chain guy.
But it’s not my place, and all I do is pull free and straighten up as he tucks himself away.
“Nadie?”
I put on a smile over the dull pain that starts and say, “Breakfast?
ChapterThirteen
DIEGO
Nadie can cook. It’s an omelet, frittata style. It speaks to something in my Latin blood that she put the right spices in and some chili to lift it.
I eat, and she sets the rest to the side in the fridge, ready to go when the guys come back.
She’s off in a spare room she calls her office doing . . . I don’t know what she’s doing. Keeping away from me, I suspect.
I shouldn’t have fucked her. Not again. Every time makes it harder, but that use of the anger, indulging in a rough dirty fuck with her. Her blooming with it, wanting it, well . . . that opens realms of possibilities I don’t need. Realms I desire.
I like it hard and dirty. I like it rough. I like it soft and sweet too. But there’s something in taking someone like that and having them sing when you do. It’s ownership, and there’s only ever been one woman I want to own like that, one woman who I want to own me, and that’s Nadia.
Fuck me, I want her ass.
No, what I want is trouble I don’t need.
Because I’m a fucking moron.
I start looking over my notes on my phone, and I really hate the picture emerging. If we can’t get to the bottom of things here and in Dallas, squash it, then there might be war. Big shit, and if there’s big shit, it’s something the De Lucas won’t let happen on or near their turf.
Hopefully, it won’t get there.
I know the kid isn’t exaggerating about his crew. Even if they’re mild, things are done a certain way. But he hasn’t been initiated fully yet, so we’ll play by the rules as much as we can and negotiate. After all, staying friendly with even small groups has advantages.
We might not ever need to use those advantages, but they’re good to have stockpiled anyway.
The front door bangs open, and Tizio, Nicolo, and Jay come in. The kid’s got a swagger that’s a suspicious mix of Nicolo and Tizio. He keeps looking at them before he yells ‘hi’ out to his aunt. Then he disappears into his room.
Tizio’s eyeing the pan I’ve left on the stove after drying it and the plates in the drainer.
With a sigh, I open the fridge and set out the egg mixture and some butter for the pan. “If I feed you, will you both shut up?
“Nope,” says Tizio.
Nicolo shakes his head. “You’re fucking crazy, man.”
“We were nice to you about Avah, and this isn’t that.”
“So, the hot teacher’s up for grabs? Good to know.” Tizio grins.
I narrow my eyes. “Only if I’m dead and then not for you.”
