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“Oh,” he said. A spark of delight rose in his stomach. “I assume she hasn’t had any further problems?”
“You son of a bitch,” she shouted, lifting her hands. He saw the move happening in slow motion but knew that he must be hallucinating. Nobody would ever dare to lay their hands on him. Nobody—not even her—would get away with doing such a thing. A part of him denied that she’d ever been stupid enough to try to intimidate him physically, but as her hands landed on his chest and shoved him back, he knew better.
His body physically reacted before his mind could contradict him.
She’d hardly been able to pull her hands away from him when he grabbed them and used his body to shove her against the alleyway wall. He knew not to slam her into it as he would have done with anyone else. His instincts would have never allowed such a thing, even if his anger slowly rose into a cool burn within him, but he pushed her into the building hard enough to draw a gasp from her.
He stood over her, nothing but his cold mask covering his face. Seeing her against the wall did something to him. He’d need to reenact the moment in the future when she hadn’t gravely insulted him.
When she was not fully clothed.
His voice came out low and vicious as he spoke to her. “You will never lay your hands on me, no matter what you think I did. Do you understand?”
His defiant little monster—a match he would never have seen for himself but now couldn’t see any other way—scowled up at him. “You willnottell me what I can and cannot do,” she spat.
A thrill raced through him. He would tell her exactly what to do when he had her alone and in private. But for now, he tightened the grip he held on her wrists until she gasped at the force of his hands pressing into them. “You don’t have the power here,” he whispered, his voice low and gruff.
He both heard and saw as she swallowed and trembled at his words. He couldn’t decide if it was a fearful or lustful tremble, but he had his guesses. He’d never scared her before and found it hard to imagine that he did now.
“Did you kill him?” she finally asked, her voice less hateful and accusing than before. Good. She was learning. He still didn’t back away as he looked down on her.
“And if I did?”
She ground her teeth. “Did you?”
He waited a moment before admitting the truth. “No,” he said. “But I sent someone to ensure he never returns.”
She sagged with relief against the wall. Vincent considered releasing her, but seeing her pinned beneath him had an effect on him that he couldn’t ignore.
“So, he’s alive?”
Vincent moved closer and pressed himself into her. “He is.”
Her breath hitched beneath him as she raised her head and met his gaze. “But,” she started, her voice much weaker than it had been moments before, “you do kill people.”
It wasn’t a question as her last statement had been, but he nodded anyway.
She broke their locked gaze. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she admitted, tugging at her wrists with a slight wince.
He hadn’t realized how tight his grip had gotten, and he loosened it but didn’t release her. She continued. “The mafia isn’t something I can be associated with, and I will be leaving for California for art school as soon as I have enough money. Having ties to you and your… organization,” she said slowly, unable to find the words, “could ruin that for me.”
He’d been able to avoid the thought of her leaving, but her words brought back the memories he’d wanted to avoid. “I know,” he said.
“And you’re older than me. By a lot.”
He bent until his lips pressed against her neck, and he recognized the soft sound she made. She’d made the same one when he’d been deep inside of her. “Age doesn’t matter.”
She took a shaking breath as he pressed his lips harder into the side of her throat, working the kisses up until his lips brushed the lobe of her ear. He scraped his teeth along it, and she moaned slightly, bucking her hips up and into him.
If he hadn’t been hard before, he would have been after that.
“Maybe not,” she admitted. “But this is a difficult situation.”
Vincent considered backing up and allowing her to think clearly, but he opted instead to move his hands from her wrists and down to her hips, hoisting her up. Her back remained pressed into the wall, but her front… that was the reason she gasped and moaned lightly. The hardness of him protruded through his pants and pushed directly into her—into the place he knew she craved his touch.
“Difficult?” he asked, thrusting slightly and meeting her lips.
She attacked him hungrily, and he could sense how much his dominance had turned her on. Her shaking intensified, and he knew she’d never feared him. Not even when he had her shoved against a wall. She wasexcitedin his presence.
