Page 11 of Claimed By the Don

I groan, half lust and half irritation. “It took me four years before I was really over you, goddammit,” I mutter. “Now here I am. Like I never left.”

His mouth brushes the shell of my ear, setting off a shiver through my whole body. “I was over you and moved on--I thought I was so fuckin’ smart,” he says. When I feel the intensity in what he says, how it matches my own, everything in me goes haywire.

“We can’t do this,” I say.

“Can’t do what?” he says.

The curve of his wicked grin brings his stubbly jaw in contact with my cheekbone. He cages me with his arms. I slide my hands under his shirt, along his smooth, hot skin. He swears and a giggle bubbles up in me.

“When can I see you?”

“You’re seeing me now,” I say, going hot all over.

“Are you free tonight?”

Benny’s mouth is so close to mine I can taste him already, the cinnamon gum and that heat. I watch his big hands cup my face, long fingers threading in my hair. I’m breathless when I lift on my toes to brush his lips with mine. Except he doesn’t give me the chance.

This is the Benny I remember, no hesitation. He rocks his mouth over mine. With one wicked nip, he parts my lips and slides his tongue inside to taste me. I open for him, melting. The hands that were feeling him up under his button down now clutch at his shirt front and fondle his pecs.

I’m lost in a swarm of sensations. Some part of me only comes alive under his touch. He tastes the same, but without the smoke. He must have quit. I like this but part of me misses the cigarettes, the dirty bad-boy habit he could never quite shake. I open my eyes to sneak a peek at him up close.

He is looking at me. The shock of that eye contact—I swear my soul leaves my body for a second. It ratchets up the intimacy of this stolen kiss. He never takes his eyes off me until we break apart. I put out a hand as if to say, ‘just a minute.’ He catches my fingers in his and holds my hand. My gaze snaps up to meet his again. I’ve been back in town less than a week and I’m already sneaking around kissing Benny Falconari like the last six years never happened.

“Tell me when I can see you,” he says, his voice rough against my ear. The shiver licks up the length of my entire body.

I’m busy,” I say, acting like I have a choice in the matter.

“Okay, want me to come by tomorrow, same time?” he asks. He knows I will say no.

“Don’t you have a job?”

“I’m my father’s right-hand man,” he says and there isn’t a boast in there. I know how rough it would be for him to work closely with his father.

“That explains the wardrobe,” I say.

“Gotta dress like I’m not a thug anymore,” he says. “Is it working for you?”

“Everything about you works for me. That’s my problem, Benny.”

He grins that damn cocky grin again.

“Tomorrow I’m off at one. I’ll have an hour,” I hear myself say to him.

It’s impossible that I’ve been waiting for him all this time. That would be crazy. But I can’t tell that to my body that kicks into a cosmic shimmer of anticipation.

How can I reconcile who I’ve been the last five or six years with who I am now, expansive with happiness and hope? If this were a movie, there’d be a big musical number right now, something energetic and full of lyrics about how everything will be different tomorrow.

It would almost be enough to make an audience feel sorry for the dumbass girl about to make a colossal mistake.

8

BENNY

Business as usual.

I sit in the conference room of my dad’s office, occupying the seat on his right. I listen and take notes and look convincingly avid, as if I’m being mentored by my old man. Groomed to take over. The optics of this are important both for him and for the organization.

If it were obvious that my dad could no longer handle the operations of the family business and that I was running things, then we’d have chaos. To keep the organization unified under a single leader is crucial to our survival. Splintering factions will scuffle over territory and posture for dominance. That means a body count, and unwanted attention from police which would cost us a fortune in bribes. All of this wasted time and energy would be better off spent on the profitable side of the business without internal strife.

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