Page 137 of Forced Vows

The bike engine purrs to life and Miceli takes off, wind whooshing past us at even the sedate pace of the parking lot. The security detail pulls out behind us and I'll eat Fitz's Play-Doh if Miceli is sticking to the speed limit.

I figure out pretty fast that he's not taking me straight home when he takes the turn toward Brooklyn instead of back through Nassau County.

The wind whips around us now and I'm glad for both my jacket and helmet. The deep purr of the bike's engine and the hum between my legs causes a feeling I do not expect.

How am I getting turned on right now?

OK, yeah that might be a dumb question. This man is my sexual kryptonite. But who knew that riding behind him on the back of a motorcycle would be so erotic?

My vaginal walls clamp and wetness gushes into my panties. And my nipples? They are so freaking hard, they ache. I hug him tighter, not caring if he realizes it's not to stay on.

The one thing between us that doesn't feel wrong, that doesn't feel like it's about the mafia or the mob, is the way our bodies react to each other.

Sex. Really good, out of this world sex.

Chapter 45: RÓISE

We slow down only a little to cross the Brooklyn Bridge and a little more when we enter Lower Manhattan.

Two turns on the surface streets and I'm confused, pretty sure that neither the Oscuro Building nor the De Luca's family home are this way.

Where is he taking me?

Fifteen minutes later, we pull up in front of a building I've never been to. Not that I spend a lot of time in the City, but I know where I've been and this isn't it.

The shiny glass exterior isn't anything like the Art Deco façade on the building where the De Luca's family home takes up the top two floors and rooftop. It doesn't tower nearly as high as the Oscuro building either.

Only when we park in the underground garage, do I realize our security details aren't with us.

I pull off my helmet. "Where are the bodyguards?"

"They stopped following us as soon as we crossed the bridge." Miceli shoves the fingerless leather gloves he'd been wearing into the helmet and leaves it on the seat.

I let him take mine and put it beside the other one. "I didn't notice."

Ollie is probably calling my uncle right now to tell him about Miceli dismissing the team. Not that it will do my bodyguard any good. If I've learned anything about Miceli, it's that he does what he wants.

The parking bay we are in is cut off from the rest of the garage by cement walls and a garage door that is lowering back into place. Miceli taps something on his phone and a red light above the door starts to blink.

This is a serious level of security. Whoever we're going to see must be someone important in the mafia.

Is he taking me to meet the godfather?

No. Not dressed like this.

The Italian mafia is way more formal about stuff like that than the Irish mob, or so my uncle insists. Uncle Brogan isn't exactly casual though.

Anyway, I don't know why we're here. I don't know what we're doing. What I do know is that if I ask, Miceli probably won't tell me. So, I'm not giving him the satisfaction.

"You told me you were taking me home." That's not a question. It's an observation.

I follow him toward the far wall.

"I will. After."

After what? Sex? Even though it makes no sense he's brought me to this high-security, undisclosed location (How James Bond does that sound?) for that, my thighs press together in hopeful anticipation.

My ovaries scream yes, yes, yes! But my brain is all, no, no, no. Do not let Miceli De Luca sex you up until you'll agree to anything he asks.

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