Page 238 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

“Just as delicious as I thought you’d be, tesoruccia,” he murmurs before separating my folds with his thumbs and sucking my clit between his lips.

My head falls back against the mirror as I keep my hands on his head. He runs his tongue down to my entrance and laps at my wetness. I moan and he smiles against my flesh. Then, he slowly sinks a finger inside me. I move my hips, wanting it deeper, needing more of him. He begins fucking me with his finger and then adds a second. My breathing becomes labored, and I tighten my grip on his hair.

“Come for me, Lena,” he murmurs against me as he sucks my clit into his mouth and curls his fingers, fucking me harder and faster. And that’s all it takes; I cry out as I come. He pulls his fingers out of me and laps up my release as if I’m some kind of fine delicacy.

I release his head and slow my breathing. When I open my eyes, he’s looking up at me, his face and chin glistening from my release.

“Way better than a cannoli,” he whispers with a smirk as he presses a wet kiss to my core before trailing his lips back up my body. When he reaches my face, we stare at each other for a few seconds and then he’s kissing me again. I can taste myself on him and something about that is so hot.

I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. Maybe I should mess around with playboys more often. All of his experience has definitely paid off.

I’m about to offer to return the favor when there’s a knock at the door. Rocco’s body covers mine in an instant as we both stare toward his bedroom.

“Rocco, we need you downstairs,” a man says from outside his bedroom door.

“Fuck,” Rocco murmurs against my hair.

“It’s OK. Go. I’ll just…get dressed,” I urge.

He pulls back and looks down at me. “This isn’t finished, tesoruccia. I’ll be right back. Stay in here. And do not even think about putting any clothes on,” he demands as his dark eyes rake over my body. I tremble under his gaze.

He presses a soft kiss to my lips before walking out of the bathroom, leaving me wondering what the hell just happened. I sit on the counter for a long minute debating what to do. Do I stay here? Is it really safe here? I have work tomorrow. Will they call the police? No, the mafia doesn’t call the police.

I climb down and walk into his bedroom, taking in the dark wood furniture and deep blue walls. It screams masculinity. My adrenaline rush has ended and now I’m tired as fuck. I decide crawling into that monstrous bed and taking a quick nap isn’t a horrible idea. So, I slide in between his black, satin sheets and curl up. I drift asleep to the memory of Rocco making me his dessert.

Seven

ROCCO

“I know Vince had stuff on Marco. He told me he was keeping an eye on him, but I can’t find it and none of our guys know anything about it,” Joe growls in frustration as he motions to a monitor in our security room.

“Did we get Bryce’s guy on it yet?” I ask, referencing a former hacker friend of the owner of the security firm we use on occasion.

“Yeah, he’s trying. Most of the backup methods are with biosecurity, which doesn’t work without Vince here. He’s running a program that should figure out the backup passcode, but he said because of the level of difficulty of the system, it could take a day or two,” he grumbles. I’m a little surprised that my grandfather had such a secure file on a computer.

“Well, keep trying. We need all the intel he had on Marco,” I state as I stare angrily at the blank login screen.

“I know. Bryce’s guy is trying. I don’t want you leaving the compound until we figure it out. The fact that Marco got that close is…well, we’ve alerted Dino and he’s pissed but he also wants him safe. It’s a fucking mess,” he states as he runs a hand over his bald head.

What Joe doesn’t know is that the only reason Bryce Gallagher helps our family is because Vince has been feeding him intel for years. Bryce shares this with his federal agency friends and our family stays out of prison. It’s a win-win relationship. But Joe would go crazy if I told him that. The fact that even Bryce doesn’t know what’s going on with Marco or where he might be concerns me because that means whatever intel is on this drive is not known by any living soul.

“What are you going to do with the girl?” Joe asks as he motions toward the second floor.

“She’s not your concern. Leave it,” I growl as I turn to go find her.

“And she’s your concern? Do you even know her? Can we trust her?” he calls out after me.

I turn and take five long strides, grabbing Joe around the neck when I reach him. “Do not test me. She’s clean. Vince wouldn’t have spent time with her if she wasn’t. She has nothing to do with our world,” I snarl as I release Joe’s neck and walk away.

“Sorry, man. I just had to make sure. It’s precarious times, Rocco. We need to watch our backs,” he says as I walk out the door.

I start back up the stairs, contemplating what he’s just said. He’s not wrong. She’s innocent. She’s not in the mafia. I should get her home and never see her again. But my head isn’t on right, and I need her. In the two nights I’ve spent eating dinner with her, she’s been an escape for me. I need that right now. I need to escape. I curse myself for what I’m about to do. I’m caging the butterfly; I’m picking that wildflower. I just hope that doesn’t kill her. I’d never forgive myself.

I pass a few guards as I head toward my wing. Taking a deep breath, I open my bedroom door, shutting and locking it behind me.

I look around. The room is dark, so it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the moonlight. She’s curled up in my bed. I fumble for my remote and put the dim lighting in the crown molding on its lowest setting. I want to look at her.

She’s even more beautiful in her sleep. Her long blonde waves fan out over my black sheets. Her thick eyelashes rest on her fair cheeks. I run a single finger over her jawline. She doesn’t stir. She must have fallen asleep as the adrenaline wore off. I can’t believe how well she’s handled everything tonight. Most women in her shoes would be freaked out, but she was stoic. Maybe she could be part of my world. No, it’s not possible. Is it?

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