Page 34 of The Enforcer's Revenge
“I’m not going to forget about it,” Carlo assured Lola before she could finish. “And it’s not just Washington Heights. My mother taught me how it is. We believe in God, but we see the darkness, too. We don’t hide from it and pretend it’s not there. Roll your eyes, Nova. Call me superstitious, I don’t give any fucks. I know what I know, and I’m not the only one—ask any motherfucker about her sister.”
“All Carmen did was make a command in a way that you believed, which wasn’t hard because your mother filled your head will all that evil eye, old country bullshit when you were akid. Curses aren’t real,paisan.” Nova sounded less than moved by Carlo’s speech. “They’re nocebo effects that happen when the suggestion is planted in your subconscious brain against your will. You cursed yourself for being the dumbass who followed her suggestion.”
Carlo stood up and grabbed his dick through his swimsuit. “Nocebo this, motherfucker.”
“Okay, cry over it.” Nova picked his book back up and stretched out. “Most men have had that problem at some point, anyway. It was probably just stress.”
Tino snorted with amusement. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you tell us about that, Casanova? Stressed much, lately?”
“The ED industry makes billions annually. It’s a legitimate issue.” Nova lowered his head and looked past the rim of his sunglasses with a smile. “At least that’s what I’ve heard.”
“And the afternoon wouldn’t be complete without some sort of Siciliano pissing contest. Even the smart one can’t help it.” Carina rolled over on her towel, clearly unimpressed. “I need a nap now.”
Something about the suggestion left them all sleepy, even when the noise below deck changed from fighting to something much more sensual and primal. Neither Carlo nor Lola was quiet about it, but no one really minded. Not at this point in their lives, when it was one party after the next.
They just turned up the music and slept—all of them—sprawled out all over the deck in the sun. The thump of the base from the speakers was comforting somehow, an uncrashable party in the middle of the ocean, no cops to worry about.
Right then, in that moment, no one could hurt them.
For the first time in her life, Brianna knew what it was like to feel free, and she wasn’t the only one. Everyone got along for the rest of the trip. Even Carlo and Lola stopped fighting, and that was their favorite form of foreplay.
The real world felt a million miles away the whole time.
They danced.
They ate fantastic food.
They laughed a lot.
It ended up being one of the most bittersweet memories of Brianna’s life—for a lot of reasons.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Manhattan, New York
July 2nd, 2010
Brianna had been sleeping extra hard over the last few weeks. She was practicing full-time for a performance at school. She had one of the leads, which meant it was hours and hours of work. She ached in ways she hadn’t since middle school, and when she finally fell into bed, she passed out and slept like the dead.
Which was why it took her a long time to be forcibly pulled out of the hazy fog of sleep as someone kissed her left foot and caressed her bare calf. Tino was out of state working, and she wasn’t expecting him home until sometime midweek.
She didn’t fully notice he was with her until she felt his lips against the back of her neck. His rough hands ran down to the curve of her waist, and he pulled the blanket off her. Then he slipped a hand between her bare thighs.
“Naked,” Tino whispered against her ear. “Naughty girl.”
She smiled and buried her face into her pillow as Tino pressed against her bare back. He still wore a shirt and jeans.His hair was wet against her neck as he licked her shoulder. That should’ve been her first warning, but she was more than a little distracted by the tightening coil of need as he rubbed her clit, making her wet way too easily.
He kept kissing her neck, and Brianna reached behind her, grabbed his wet hair, and held him there. She shifted back against him, quivering and fighting for release past the heaviness of sleep.
“Sei bellissima,”he moaned and stopped caressing her clit to run his fingers between her folds teasingly, leaving her right on the edge. “So wet for me.” He traced the lines of her pussy, making her shift under him impatiently until he laughed. “You wanna beg me for it?”
“Stop being a tease,” she panted because he was terrible when he wanted to be. He could leave her sweaty and begging for hours. “’M sleepy. Please.”
“No, tell me how much you want it first.” He bit her shoulder, almost a little too rough, but she was more focused on the pleasure, and he obviously knew it. “I think I need to hear you beg for it.”
“Oh my God.” She tugged his hair harder. “Tino, no—” She gasped when he pushed one finger in deep, making her arch into the thrust of it. She let go of his hair to grab at the sheets. “Jesus.”
“I’m mean tonight,” he confessed like a crime and laved his tongue over the wound on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
