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“No!”
Nero’s voice rings out. Chase freezes.
“We’re not starting a war that will bring carnage to our streets, not on a fucking whim,” Nero continues. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to tear apart the son of a bitch who’s responsible, but we’re going to be fucking smart about this. Nobody makes a move tonight. You understand?”
Chase scowls.
“Do. You. Understand. Me?” Nero grinds out the words.
Chase shakes his head in clear disgust. “Fine. You stay here and fuck around with the little wifey while we’re made to look like fools. I’m gonna go get a drink.”
Chase leaves the way he came in, angry. The door slams behind him.
I look to Nero. “Do you think that’s true? Are the Kovacks behind this?”
He’s still pacing. “I don’t know.”
“You had a deal.”
He nods. “Question is, is this Igor breaking his word, or one of his guys going rogue? And does it even matter?” he asks, as if asking himself. “If I can’t trust him to keep his men in line…”
He turns back to me. “I hate that they hurt you. That you’re in danger every fucking time you walk out that door.”
“But I’m fine,” I insist again.
“This time.”
“This time is all that matters,” I lie, knowing it’s not exactly true, but needing him to relax a moment. I don’t want to lose him to the darkness in his frown, so I take his hand, pressing it to my lips in a kiss. “Every time they come for us, we make it,” I remind him. “And they can keep trying. We’ll beat them again, whatever it takes.”
Nero sighs.
“I need to lay down,” I tell him. “Take me to bed?”
He nods, and helps me up the stairs to our bedroom. But I don’t let him go. I pull him towards the bed with me.
“Stay,” I whisper, stripping off my shirt.
“You need to rest,” Nero says, but he doesn’t go anywhere.
I shuck off my pants, too. “I said, I wanted to lay down,” I correct him, taking his hand and moving it to my bare body. “With you.”
“Baby…” he leans closer, kissing me. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. I want you, Nero,” I swallow hard. “Make me forget it all. Please?”
I need this right now. I need the comfort of his touch, to feel a connection that confirms I’m alive and well. I need to be with Nero because I almost lost everything.
And maybe he feels the same, because he nods, laying me gently down onto the bed. He strips out of his own clothing while I watch, his erection springing free. Coming down onto the bed, he settles beside me, stroking softly over my body. I gasp, moving closer. Touching him, too. If our sex was frenzied last night, today, it’s something else. Something sweeter. He takes his time lavishing my breasts with his tongue, his hands caressing my skin. He’s still in charge, teasing out my pleasure as he switches his move to my other breast, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud, but there’s something about the way his eyes keep flicking up to my face and the unhurried way that he’s touching and tasting parts of my body.
It’s almost as if he’s savoring the moment. Or cherishing it.
Finally, his hands move to my panties, stroking me through the silk. I moan, pressing against his hand as I fist his cock in mine. Our eyes meet as we touch each other, drawing gasps and groans. I pump him slowly, as his fingers rub my clit in hypnotic circles. Pressure rising. Connected.
“Please…” I whisper, finally writhing with impatience. “I need you inside me.”
Nero brushes hair from my eyes. “Say it again,” he urges, “God, I love to hear you say it.”
“I need you,” I moan again. “I need your cock deep inside me, and the weight of you pinning me down. There’s nothing like it in the world.”
