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That’s why I’m not yours.Those sharply-spoken words ring in my ears, digging claws into my chest. I’ve known from the moment I set eyes on her that we were two very different people—different to the point of incompatibility—but hearing Emma say it so baldly to my face feels like a slap. A reminder that no matter how many times I coax her into my bed, we’re just playing pretend.
Which is all it should be. I’ve never wanted more before this, and I don’t know why I would suddenly start now.
Emma lets out a relieved sigh as we reach the Camaro, and we both see that it’s untouched—no broken glass or scratches. “That’s lucky,” she murmurs, and I see her gaze slide over the car like a caress. She looks at it almost the same way she looks at me, and somehow, that makes me want her even more. None of the girls I usually spend my time with give a damn about a car unless it’s a Lamborghini or some other luxury supercar—and even then, it has nothing to do with what’s under the hood and everything to do with how much it costs. They’d get wet over a Toyota Camry if it cost six figures.
“I knew it’d be fine.” I unlock the passenger’s side, opening the door for her, and Emma shoots me a surprised glance before sliding in. “What?” I smirk at her. “Can’t I be a gentleman?”
“I didn’t thinkmafia bossandgentlemanwere synonymous,” she murmurs as I slip into the driver’s seat. I hear her hum of appreciation as I start the car’s engine, and I let it idle for a moment as I look over at her.
“I’ll be a perfect gentleman on the drive back to your car. Will that help your opinion of me?”
She says nothing, but a small smile plays at the corners of her mouth, and that’s enough for me. I throw the car into gear, pulling out onto the road, and it takes everything in me to keep one hand on the wheel and one hand on the stick. She’s wearing cutoff shorts that expose what seems like a mile of her slim, deeply tanned legs, and I’m aching to rest my hand on her thigh and run my fingers over her silky skin. Just the thought of it has me starting to get hard, my cock swelling against the confines of my jeans as I try not to think about how easily her legs parted for me this morning, that wet, tight heat between them.
I want desperately to be inside of her again. Her hand on me this morning wasn’t enough. Nothing is going to be enough, except getting my cock inside of her as deeply as I can go.
The drive back to the parking garage is all too short. I imagine it felt like an eternity for her last night, but it feels as if it’s over in a matter of seconds this morning. I grit my teeth as we pass the streaks of blood on the concrete, pulling around to park next to her car, which is also still safe and untouched. Emma lets out a sharp breath when she sees it.
“Well, that’s something.” She shifts on the leather seat next to me, glancing my way. “Text me when you—”
“Emma,” I say her name, and she stiffens. My palms itch with the urge to grab her and pull her close to me. I have a sudden image of the two of us in the backseat of the Camaro, the windows fogging up while I strip off her clothes, my hands on her breasts and her legs wrapped around my hips—
“I need to go.” She almost chokes out the words, fumbling for the door handle and bolting out of the car. I watch with an aching chest and throbbing cock as she lopes over to her Chevelle, yanking the door open and sliding inside. Shelocksit the moment she’s inside, as if she’s keeping me out—or keeping herself in.
The desire between us feels like a living, breathing thing. Like it’s still sitting there next to me, even after she’s gone. I want to go after her, but I sit there, watching as she wraps her hands around the steering wheel, breathing hard for several long moments before I hear the rumble of the engine, and she puts the car in gear.
I have other things I need to worry about.I catch sight of the blood on the concrete again as I look down at the level below where I’m parked, and I grit my teeth. I assured Emma that she would be safe, and I believe that—but I’m not taking any chances. I’m going to make sure this threat is stopped before it has any chance of coming back on her.
Quickly, I pull out my phone and send Lorenzo a message.Meet me at my office. Need to talk.
A moment passes, then another, and I wonder if I’ve caught him in the middle of something. But then my phone buzzes.
Sure thing, brother.
I drop my phone on the passenger’s seat, putting the car in gear. Altiere might think he did something last night, putting his goons on me. He might think he’s won a small victory.
He’s going to find out how very wrong he is.
—
Lorenzo is already waiting outside of my office when I get there. I unlock the door, glancing at him. “You got here quickly.”
“It sounded urgent.” He follows me inside, sinking down into one of the leather chairs as I sit down behind my desk. “What the hell happened to your face, Dante?”
“Altiere’s guys, I think.” I gingerly touch one of the bruises on my cheek. I can feel how swollen my face is without even looking in a mirror. “I got jumped.”
Lorenzo sits forward, his face suddenly a mask of confusion and anger. “Where? They came into our territory? That little fucking shit—”
I shake my head, holding up a hand to stop my brother’s tirade. “I was in his.”
“What?” Lorenzo’s brow creases. “Why?”
I frown, looking at him. “Not for business. Which means it should have been fine. We cangowhere we like, ‘Enzo. We just can’t run jobs in the part of LA that’s not ours. I shouldn’t have gotten the shit kicked out of me just for being down on the southeast side.”
“That’s true.” Lorenzo rubs his chin. “But that doesn’t answer my question. What the hell were you doing over there? And why didn’t you have security with you?”
“Stopping by to see a friend. And because I’m an idiot. Does that answer your questions?” I glare at him, but Lorenzo’s expression doesn’t change.
“Your security head called me last night. Didn’t know where you were, and couldn’t get ahold of you. I was about to send out a goddamn army looking for you. Did thisfriendhave anything to do with that?”
