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To taste her the way she tasted me…
Mine.
Her arms are tangled around my neck, my mouth on her face, her neck. If one has to be lost, there is no better place to be, although I can think of one last vista I haven’t seen yet. I stroke my fingers over her cunt, back and forth, until her hips are thrusting in time with me.
Stefan clears his throat, and the sound is a gunshot of clarity ripping through my system. At once, I pull back, catching a glimpse of astonished lust on the agent’s face before embarrassment starts to set on her cheeks.
This is becoming too dangerous too fast, especially that slender reed of hope forming inside me. Hope of actually being victorious, and perhaps coming away not just unscathed, but with this woman in my bed.
I want her.
“It seems I have to applaud you again, little brother,’ Stefan begins. “You sure do know how to put on a show. I’m sure our guests enjoyed the display as much as I did.”
I gently set the agent back on her feet and turn, angling my body to keep her slightly behind me as she adjusts her dress again. Several men stand clustered at Stefan’s side, and all of them are focused predatorily on the delicate redhead pressed to the wall.
“Marco, I’m not sure if you recognize our guests, but this is Gil Chamberlain. He’s Gerardo’s third in command.” Stefan pauses. “Gil is an acquaintance of Natasha.”
I clear my throat. “A pleasure to see you again, Gil.”
The man is shorter than Stefan by a head but wider by a good foot or so.
“Gil, Natasha Moretti.” Stefan makes the introduction to no doubt rub it in Gerardo’s face eventually.
Gil cocks his head to the side. “Excuse me?”
“Come now. Perhaps all the festivities have gotten to your head. Natasha Moretti.” Stefan emphasizes the name again, but it’s devastatingly clear Gil does not recognize the woman.
Why would he? She isn’t Natasha.
Fuck me, this is going downhill fast. My cock stirs in my pants again, a reminder that we have unfinished business, but the most important thing is to get her out of here. Fast.
Without waiting for her to comment or for Gil to call us out, I grabmyNatasha and whip her into my arms. She’s too small to do more than beat against me helplessly as I adjust her in my grip, whirling out past the men, down the hallway, and out the back door, where the Zicari personal car is waiting.
“Marco, put me down!”
Not until we’re safe. Not until I’ve got the back door open and toss her inside the car, where she lands on that sweet ass with a squeal, and I stuff myself inside beside her.
The interior is chilled, the vehicle parked since Stefan got here. The parking lot behind the building is filled with expensive vehicles and several spaces are claimed by stretch limos. Beyond, the street is busy and bustling, full of life. My pocket buzzes, and I zero in on it while Natasha rights herself with a curse and a grumble.
“Care to tell me what the fuck just happened?” Her breath erupts in a white cloud from the cold.
The text isn’t one I can ignore without some form of consequence and, being this close to cracking the syndicate wide open, I’m not about to bring more scrutiny down on my shoulders. The phone buzzes again with a second text.
WTF was that all about?
Stefan isn’t going to be happy with me, no matter what excuse I use.
I hurry to type out a response.I need to bang one out. After all that, I can’t wait.
Then get it fucking done, nut in the bitch, and get back in here.
His response comes after a minute, and judging from the low, stifled growl from over my shoulder, the agent reads everything as it comes in.
“I hope that’s a joke,” she snaps. “I’m perfectly capable of working with you without your cock inside me, and if you think—”
“Shut up,” I interrupt. “We got too close to being figured out by Gerardo’s man. Gil is too close to the top to mistake you for anything but a stranger. You certainly aren’t Natasha Moretti.”
I wait for her to catch up, for her to tell me exactly who she is.
