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Her fingers journeyed down my neck and stopped at the spot below my ear. I snaked an arm around and tugged her even closer.Fuck,her scent was intoxicating and the softness of her waist sent signals to my groin.
“They are,” I croaked and nuzzled my face between her neck, brushing my lips against her soft nape. She held me close, and I didn’t want her to let me go. “They are so fucking mad. But you and me...” I sighed, digging my nails deeper into her lower back.
She whimpered and moaned, and I wanted to hear more of it. Those sounds... just for me. I raised my head and she lowered hers. Every word and breath between us was practically a kiss. “You and me together,moya zvezda... We can conquer this fucking world. All you have to do is trust me, okay?”
She nodded and her soft lips brushed my nose. “I do, Vlad. I trust you.”
I tucked a stray strand of her soft hair behind her ears, struggling not to consume every inch of her on the spot. I could feel my restraint slipping, with every ticking second that passed.One... Two...
I inched closer, pressing a thumb against her lips, and she tilted her head. The perfect angle. I licked my lips and parted them.
Three...
My phone buzzed in my pockets, distracting us momentarily. Regrettably, I pulled away and she recoiled, disappointment shone in her eyes. The spell was broken. I plucked the phone out and placed it on my ear. It was my brother, Nikolai.
Strange. He barely had reasons to call me at odd hours, except it was work-related. And it was always work-related.
“Nikolai?”
“Where are you?” he rushed out, sounding cold, calm, and composed as always. But I heard it; the wavering frantic tone hidden beneath the layers of all that masculinity.
I frowned. “What happened?”
“One of our casinos has been attacked. Burnt to the ground with most of our men shot dead on the street. Come home now.” He ended the call.
Mariana had already opened the door and started heading out. But I grabbed her arm and she turned around. “I’m coming back for you.”
She smiled and said, “I know,” and stepped out of the car.
The second the door closed, my hand flew to the wheel and my foot found the gas pedal. By the time I got home, my brothers were huddled in the living room, Sergey, and Nikolai, talking about taking Vincent down.
“We have to wait until we get an update on the Outfit from Maxim. We can no longer hope on the Camorra since the engagement has been broken off, thanks to Vlad’s fucking stunt. Plus, Vincent has declared a bloody war between them too. How convenient,” Sergey was saying. He had a hand on his hip and one leg slightly spread apart while Nikolai leaned against the wall, looking even more pissed, and I was willing to bet he had most of his anger directed at me.
“This is all fucked up,” he said and pushed himself off.
I grunted, sank on the couch between them, and threw an arm over the rim. “I agree, Nikolai. This is all fucked up.”
Chapter 24 - Mariana
Sweat dripped down the back of my ear, down my neck, and to my shoulder, trickling lower into my off-the-shoulder top as I hauled the last luggage out the door. More like rolled it out, but it was freaking heavy, so I hauled it, all the way out. I locked the door and turned around, forming a shield over my eyes.
He just stood there by the shiny black car, tall and intimidating, with a bored expression. His black shiny was swept up in the usual ponytail and he was dressed casually in black pants and a beige dress shirt. No tie. The long sleeves were rolled up halfway, revealing the inked-black crucifix with flames on his pale skin, the shimmering bright glow of the sun.
I gripped the black plastic coating the steel in one hand and hung a black duffel over my shoulder with the other. Carefully, I maneuvered my way out of the porch, past the mowed lawn, and to his car, which was parked skillfully on the sidewalk.
He did come back for me, just not in the way I expected.
His firm jaw was set, his face scrunched up, and blue eyes squinted under the scorching sun, gazing directly at me. His eyes rested on my face, before running down my bare neck and shoulders.
My breathing stilled when it trailed down my top, lingered at my breasts, and went lower to my ripped shorts and exposed legs. His stare darkened and he shifted his foot. A warm flutter spread between my legs when his eyes settled there for a brief, but intense, moment, before his gaze traveled back to my face.
Then, they fleeted to the bags at my feet and the bored expression returned. “Are these all?” he asked dryly; his voice deep and slightly grating.
I was going to blame his irritation on the heat of the sun and not that I had kept him waiting outside for more than half an hour after his sudden call, telling me he was at my doorstep. It served him right, if we agreed to ride on honesty. He had called an hour ago to share an unexpected news I was not ready to receive.
“Mariana, something came up. You have to move in with me until the war is over.”
“War? What war?”
