Page 14 of Ruthless Redemption

God, the chemistry.

My body tingled from the memory of our nights together. So why couldn’t I shake the idea, no matter how good those moments were, that whatever time we spent with each other was only temporary?

As much as the club tried to pull him in, I wasn’t sure staying was the right path for him. Ten years away had not healed his wounds. His mother’s death had broken him. Leaving seemed like the right thing for him to do. And the closer we got now the harder it would be when he left again.

Maybe I would leave this time. With both Frank and Marco soon to be out of the way, the club would have no excuse to keep me so close. I would be free to go.

Then what? Freedom had been my one goal for so long, that I’d not taken enough time to actually look beyond it. My education had been limited to only things that Frank wanted me to know. As in he didn’t care about my job prospects. As far as he was concerned there would only be one. Specifically, he’d had me tutored in what he expected and thus what a future husband would expect from a wife.

I could cook some (although I never had to), I certainly knew how to plan parties and get-togethers and I had a keen eye for details that had served me well in previous interactions. And I liked to read anything and everything I could get my hands on. Anything from straight fiction to non-fiction and until recently, the news. Frank had taught me that keeping up with current affairs was extremely important. If I found myself at one of his parties and was questioned about any regional or national level current affairs, I damn well better have a reasonable answer.

As for employment history, I basically had none. The job at the poker club had been my first real experience and that had turned out to be all part of the club’s plan.

The longer I stood here and thought about it the more I was beginning to feel defeated and the battle hadn’t even begun. I forced my spine straight, my head up and my chin out. I needed to get the hell out of this pity party for one. There was only one outcome I would accept.

Success. Both tonight and in the future.

I leaned forward and dabbed at the corner of my mouth. The blood red lipstick wasn’t normally a look I went for, but I had to admit that I liked the drama of it with the daring black dress. It added to the resolve that would fuel my revenge.

Frank Masseo, my father, would pay the ultimate price for his crimes. Not only did he deserve everything that was coming, I would not feel an ounce of guilt for it.

“You look amazing, Isabella.”

The dark, husky tone of Houston’s voice sliced through my inner pep talk and made my heart stutter for a moment before it sped up. I looked up in the mirror to see him standing at the back of the room watching me.

I wiped away the momentary uncertainty and smiled. “You like?”

He prowled forward, the darkness in his gaze growing more intense with every step he took in my direction. He didn’t stop until he’d pressed against my back and I felt the hard ridge of his thick erection nestling in the curve of my ass.

My ability to breathe ceased. My already simmering blood went into a full out boil as I leaned back and lolled my head to the side. Who had I been kidding during my little mental rant? I clearly had no control when it came to him.

One look. One touch. My body responded to everything about him. The rest of me might have a lot of opinions about everything to do with him, but instincts were still instincts.

“I more than like,” he growled into my exposed neck a moment before I felt the nip of his teeth. “I’ve been watching you and all I can think about is bending you over.”

He grabbed the back of my neck and gently squeezed, exerting just enough forward motion to make me grab at the back of the chair in front of me for balance.

“Houston,” I gasped, hardly aware of anything but the sexual tension now running through me. Who was this man? I studied him in the mirror as his mouth worked at my throat and his free hand wrapped around my front and into the vee between my thighs. I had no doubt if there were not two layers of silk between his hand and my pussy, his fingers would be drenched with my arousal.

“This dress,” he growled, his fingers digging harder into my flesh.

I smiled, pleased with the decision I’d made to wear it. Houston loved it and my father would hate it. I was about to get two-for-one benefits from wearing it.

I hesitated as his fingers dipped between the slit on my thigh and slipped underneath my thong.

Maybe three. I bit back a giggle.

“I’ve been going crazy wanting you,” he growled into my ear on a rough rasp. “It’s all I ever think about.”

He wasn’t the only one. I’d never denied that our physical attraction not only existed, but threatened to burn everything in its path.

His fingers ghosted across my wet flesh, rendering it near impossible for me to concentrate on anything he said. But the words caused a niggle in my head anyway that wouldn’t let up. I got the feeling he was talking about more than the moment at hand.

“I made a deal to save your life, but I knew all along I would never keep it. Not forever. I could never stay away.”

I jerked in his arms, our gazes colliding in the mirror. Words like that were definitely going to be my undoing. If he wanted to have his way with me, he was definitely getting it done. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment and tried to regain my equilibrium.

“I don’t know what to say?” Mostly because I could barely breathe. It was easy enough for him to claim that now. However, in all the time he’d been gone I’d gotten no clue he would come back to me.

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