Page 311 of Bad for Me

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My hand grips the wheel,eyes narrowed in on the man leaving her apartment. He’s young—her age probably. Hands stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, he strides out of the complex building, a smug grin on his face. I’d like to wipe it off for him, for being with her, touching her.

That possessiveness I don’t have the right to bubbles up inside of me, presenting itself as a low growl.

Benny chuckles beside me, his head shaking in the passenger seat. “He’s only a kid, Lesso.”

Another grumble escapes in response.

I don’t tear my glare from said kid, taking in how his blonde hair is tousled. Freshly fucked hair. If I climbed out of the car right now, if I headed for him and pushed him against the brick wall, pinned him there with my arm against his throat, would I smell her pussy on his mouth? His fingers?

I’ll bet he’s a greedy fuck, that he didn’t even try to make her come before he left. He was only in there . . . I glance at the watch on my wrist and scoff. Thirteen minutes.I scoff.Pathetic.

I peer up at her bedroom window and wait patiently for the light to go out. When it does, I give it another thirty minutes to make sure she’s asleep. Then, I slide out of the car. Benny climbs out with me, but I raise a hand to stop him.

“Stay,” I call behind me as I cross the street. I enter the building code given to me earlier by her landlord, then make my way toward the elevator and press the third-floor button. Three doors down to the left, and I enter the code she chose when she first moved in here six months ago. Breaking in was too easy, but I’ll deal with the lack of security later. Right now, I just need to touch her to let it sink in that it's real.

The lock clicks, and I slide into the one-bedroom apartment. Her scent hits me immediately, and I catch a lit candle on the kitchen island.Sugar cookies and spice. I close my eyes. Fuck have I missed that buttery floral smell.

I lean over the counter and blow out the flame. Not safe,cara mia. I’ll punish her for that later.

With soft feet, I make my way down the hall and twist the knob on her bedroom door.Not locked. It shoves open, revealing a sleeping beauty lying on a twin bed in the center of the room. A room so small that there’s barely space for the nightstand and dresser. My heart sinks, taking in the severity of this situation.

She left her home to be here. A home where she had all the money she needed. Her mother had walked out on her as a child, and her father’s been dead for three years now. But she had her brother, she had me.

We had standing dinner dates every first Tuesday of the month, I sent her flowers on special occasions so she knew she wasn’t alone, and I answered her whenever she called. I may not have been as active in her life as I should have, but I was keeping her away from me. She was too tempting. I wanted her too much. She’s my best friend’s daughter. I shouldn’t crave her this much.

It’s wrong. All of it is wrong. From the way, she looks so peaceful sleeping on her stomach in just a gray oversized t-shirt.Hist-shirt, no doubt, and I kick myself for not strangling him in the street earlier. I approach the bed, taking in the way the moonlight from her window shines against the fair flesh of her thighs.

She’s not wearing underwear.I stifle a groan as I lean over her, taking in the sweet vanilla smell of her shampoo. There’s another scent, and it makes my heart beat faster. A nauseating pit in my stomach at the masculine scent on her.

I steel myself, trying my best not to yank the shirt from her body. I didn’t want to wake her. I don’t want her to know that I’m here. Not yet. Not until I know why she left so I can stop it from happening again.

A soft whimper escapes her, making my cock twitch. I slide a hand into my pants, fisting the hard-on before letting him spring free.

Hadley’s breaths are soft as she sleeps peacefully. Her plump lips are parted just enough that I step forward and press the crown of my dick against them. I pump one, twice, then pull away. The thought of her mouth stretched around my cock is too enticing and I don’t want to wake her.

I run a finger down the delicate slope of her back, along the inside of her soft cheeks, right to the swell that meets the back of her leg. Then, I stop and glide it up again. She shivers beneath the feather-light touch.

I struggle to keep my composure. That gnawing feeling in my gut yells at me to stop. She’s my best friend's daughter. She’s twenty-three years younger than me. She’s an Irish princess, I’m an Italian don hiding in disguise beneath the political shield as a district attorney.

This is a scandal waiting to break. I’ve broken into her home, I’ve violated so much but that’s not what bothers me. What bothers me is the promise I made to Oscar. To protect her, to care for her as if she were my own daughter. And here I am. I’ve let her slip between my fingers, run off to another city, and now I’m fantasizing about her.

Still, I don’t stop. My hand slides between her sweet thighs. She’s so fucking wet that I groan, picking up the pace of my fist pumping over and over. I bend over her again, desperate to smell that tangy arousal when I’m hit with the salty muskiness of another man.

“Oh, fuck,” I grunt.

Dirty fucking girl.She never showered or cleaned herself up from him. I spread open her legs and bury my face against the ripe mounds of her ass. I lap up the mark of another man, tasting the saltiness of him mixed with the tang of her, cleaning up every last drop. Never the fuck again. Next time my mouth presses against her, it’ll be my cum that I’m cleaning up.

When I’m satisfied he’s no longer on her skin, I pull away. I’m not going to let her come. Not when she’s in so much trouble.

Another whimper escapes those perfect, pouty lips when I’m no longer tasting her. My jaw clenches and I pick up the pace of my fist until my balls tighten and I spill over, onto the curve of her cheeks, the sheets, and her shirt.

Then I rub my seed into her skin and compose myself. Before leaving I press a kiss to the top of her head.

Sweet dreams, cara mia.

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