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I want to keep my head buried in the sand, but I’m unable to. Biting my lip, my hands dig into Nick’s back, where I’ve been holding onto him, before I pull out of his shirt and turn around to see what’s going on.
On their knees in front of Nick’s desk is a man and a woman. A niggling of familiarity hits me as my eyes linger on them, but I’m lost as to why. Mickey paces back and forth behind them, ready to inflict more damage.
Standing at the door are two more men—the driver from earlier and another I don’t recognize. And sitting in a chair to the side of Nick’s desk is another guy. He’s beautiful in a rugged way, but he doesn’t make me feel the way my Nick does.
Leaning in, I whisper, “Who are they?”, pointing to the two on the floor. I feel his body jolt like he stuck his finger in a socket and got zapped by electricity. I did that once; I did not care for it.
“Uh, boss?” Nick’s shadow has a perplexed look on his face as he studies me.
“What’s his name?” I ask, my gaze darting between him and Nick.
“Marco, he’s my second. I’m not around, he’s the man you see for anything you need.” I nod at the explanation despite not really registering the words.
I look back to the others again, waiting for an answer. “You honestly don’t know who they are, little girl?” I shake my head, my hair flying with the sharp movement.
Dropping his head back against his chair, Nick’s eyes close as he mutters under his breath. His hands squeeze my hips where he holds me. I begin to grow nervous the longer he’s quiet.
Standing up, Nick slides me down his body, positioning my sex directly against his, and I shiver at the sensation of the meeting. Chewing the inside of my cheek, my eyes drift down to see what he looks like.
It’s very hard, and long, and thick. There’s a slit in the tip, and the longer I stare, the more liquid pools on the top, spilling down the side. My mouth waters for a taste. Nick sucks in a sharp breath when I swipe my finger across it and bring it to my mouth, sucking the drop off my finger as my eyes meet his.
Fire burns, turning his blue eyes nearly opaque. I swallow and do it again. His chest heaves with harsh breathing. “Little girl.” The growl is filled with so much promise I want to understand. I wish I did.
“Sorry,” I whisper and drop my hands to my sides.
His hands snap forward like a snake striking. One dives into the hair at the nape of my neck, and the other wraps around the front, his thumb soothing as it glides up and down the side.
“Don’t ever be sorry for wanting to taste me. I’d love nothing more than to have you on your knees with my cock down your throat, fucking you until we both feel raw, but not with other men in the room, seeing the kind of pleasure they’re missing out on.” His lips slam over mine, catching the surprised gasp at his words. His tongue dives into my mouth, pushing back and forth, and I feel an answering pulse between my legs. My nipples harden beneath the shirt I’m wearing, a ripple of something dark and delicious rolling through my body, and I never want it to end.
Nick growls louder than Mickey when he’s waiting to attack, as a throat clears, and he pulls away. “The next fucking interruption is going to earn someone their fucking death.” His gaze cuts to Marco, whom I suspect is the culprit.
Nick’s hands drop from my frame, and I feel cold as I watch him do up his pants. Wrapping my arms around my stomach, I sway on my feet a little—quite overwhelmed. There’s been too much in too short of time.
“You are one lucky son of a bitch, Gambino,” the man in the chair says.
“I know. Get your fucking eyes off her before I cut them out of your head.” I giggle at the imagery. Mickey did that to a mouse in our room once. It was gross, but he was so proud of himself.
Gripping my shoulders, Nick slowly turns me around to face the room. His hands move along my arms, pulling me into his chest. I exhale in contentment, enjoying the way he feels at my back.
“Look at those two, little one, really look. Anything familiar?” I follow Nick’s instructions. My eyes graze over their faces, taking in their features, their eyes. The lines in their faces. “Speak,” Nick barks, and it’s not until they’re shoved in the back that I realize he’s talking to them and not me.
“What the fuck do you want us to say?” the man snaps, which earns him a swift smack to the back of his head.
Tipping my head, I look up at Nick, and he leans down so I can whisper in his ear, “Who are the other men?” I haven’t spoken to people in so long, so very long. But when I do, I’d like to know who they are. If I ever work up the courage.
“This is Adonis Lorde.” He points to the man in the chair, who nods his head. “Over there by the door is Marshal, and that’s Wes. They’re two of my top soldiers. You can ask them for anything, too. You can trust them.”
I acknowledge him, and my eyes shift back to the couple on the floor. A fluffy bump at my hand draws my attention down to Minnie as she paws at me. Reaching up on her hind legs, her front paws rest on my shoulders, and she rubs her head against my chin. Her purring starts up and helps me relax.
“Fucking cat,” Nick grunts behind me. “Speak, Justine.” His voice hardens again.
“What? She obviously has brain damage.” I gasp at the stranger’s voice. I do know that one.
Pushing Minnie off me, I squirm out of Nick’s hold and hide behind his back. My head presses against his tense muscles as memories assault me. I tremble despite knowing I’m safe where I am.
The air in the room changes, weapons are drawn. My stomach revolts, and I’m helpless to suppress the minimal food in my stomach from spewing all over Nick’s back, my front, and dripping to the floor as my knees weaken. The trembling in my body is so severe I can’t stand anymore.
“Oh fuck,” I hear Marco mutter as I draw into myself, the blinding memories painful enough that every breath feels like a blow. From her.
