Page 5 of Fatal Love

Even thinking about him made my chest tighten. His words rang in my ears like thunder on repeat… When you’re ready to admit how you feel, call me.

I wanted to tell him he was right—that I wanted him more than my next breath, but how could I do that when I couldn’t even admit it to myself, or my family? I closed my eyes as I drove the wedge into the floor. My grandfather had known the real me and accepted it without hesitation. He argued that I was wrong about how the family would react, but I couldn’t bear their rejection if he'd have wrong.

The only other person I'd confided in was Madison—my brother, Massimo's fiancée. I was thrilled when Madison came into his life, but even more grateful to have her in mine. She got me on levels no one else did, a lot like my grandfather did. They were alike in the sense she wanted me to be honest with everyone and let them in. But fear paralyzed me like prey caught in a predator’s sights.

“Um? What the fuck are you doing here?” The tapping of a show and the slurred words jerked me from my thoughts.

The hammer slipped from my hand, slamming down on my palm that was flattened against the plank of wood. "Shit." Glancing up, my eyes connected with none other than, Rachel Hill. Despite the venomous glare, Rachel hill was sex on a stick. The narrowed eyes and folded arms across her chest only made her sexier. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, showing off the perfect apple shape of her face and long neck. A neck that led to the perfect curves.

Swallowing the nerves this woman created, “You had a pipe burst. I’m trying to tear up the floor to seal it off, otherwise you’re going to be swimming tonight.” I turned and continued working. The grunt of disapproval made me look back at her. “What?”

Her eyes blinked as she pursed her lips. “How the hell did you get into my house?”

Since she'd tried to fire me a few days before, I assumed that was the reason for her outburst. “I'm on the crew doing your remodel—still. I know you told me I shouldn't be here, but I don't leave jobs unfinished.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I didn't say worked couldn’t be here anymore—just not at night. And why is there water everywhere?”

She threw her hands up in the air and stormed past me. Rachel wasn't paying attention and didn't notice the puddle of water I hadn't yet mopped up. As soon as her heel hit it, her body slipped, throwing her off balance.

I dropped the hammer again and lunged forward, catching her in my arms. “You okay?”

Her eyes were wide in shock. “No. I’m not.” She blinked, her eyes crinkling with laughter that erupted like she was a deranged person. “I just about made out with…” She jerked her body from my grasp and pushed herself to her feet. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve had a bit too much to drink and probably shouldn’t have driven myself home. But I did. And guess what? I don’t give a fuck. I think the gods are trying to tell me something.” She stared at me a moment, "You're really hot."

After the shock of her words wore off, I realized she didn't recognize me—an obvious side effect of the alcohol seeping out of her pores. “Wait. You drove home drunk?” Looking at her more closely I realized she was nearly three sheets to the wind and could barely stand. I didn’t know how the hell she made it home without killing herself… she could barely make out the dangers in the kitchen—and I didn’t just mean the wet floor.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Yep. You gonna call the cops? No." Rachel braced her hand on the counter and pointed at me. "Don’t answer that. I don’t care. I am so over this fucking town.” I watched in shock as she pulled a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, uncapped it and pressed it to her lips. My cock hardened as I watched her suck down the amber liquid without so much as a flinch. “When they asked me to come down here, I didn’t know I was going to be plopped right into the middle of some pissing contest. They hate the Anastasi family so much they’re willing to lie about someone’s guilt to bring them down.”

“They hate who?” I knew exactly who she said but wanted to see what else she'd say. The alcohol was making her super lax about what she was sharing, something I knew she wouldn’t do had she been sober.

“The FBI. They have a fucking hardon for The Anastasi Family…oh, never mind.” She waved her hand through the air before grabbing the bottle again. My eyes were riveted to her mouth as she wrapped her lips around the bottle and took another pull of its contents. “The thing is… I don't think the suspect is guilty. At least not how their trying to make her. Tonight, when I asked for an extension on the trial, it was because I don’t have enough evidence to put her away.” With the pipe finally fixed, I pushed to my feet and leaned against the kitchen table, listening as she kept talking. Somehow she'd become the leaky pipe and I wanted to caulk her… but not to stop the noise coming out of her mouth. “I left New York because I felt empty. I was a badass there. Did you know that?”

I shifted uncomfortably, trying to casually adjust my hardon so she couldn’t see. “Can't say that I did.”

“My boss basically told me if I don’t put her behind bars, my career is done. And you know what?” She drank again, the bottle half empty now. She had downed half a bottle of whiskey in under fifteen minutes. “I don’t fucking care.” She slung the bottle around dramatically, splashing some of the liquor onto her hand. “I want a life. I want to feel loved. Do you know it’s been a long time since I had sex with a man?" Her expression became serious as she turned her gaze to me. "Months… Pathetic, right?”

Stepping forward, I grabbed the whiskey from her and dropped it into the sink. “Hey, I think you should go lay down. You’ve clearly had a long day, and I don’t want you to say something you’ll regret in the morning when you remember this moment.”

Rachel pressed her palms to her head and groaned. “The only thing I regret is not fucking the hot man I just left.”

“Alright, gorgeous." I wrapped my fingers around her arm. "Let me help you to your bed. I’ll finish here and lock up.” Something about seeing her so vulnerable had me regretting my motive for being there. “Let’s get you to your bed… you need to sleep this off.” It was clear she was torn about the case, but pressure from the District Attorney and the FBI had her scrambling to put Riley away.

“My life is so fucked up.” She shook her head and turned towards me. “You think I'm gorgeous?" She pressed her palm against my chest, the smell of whiskey on her breath. "You're fucking hot."

The T-shirt I was wearing was still wet from the broken pipe, making it stick to me like a second skin. Her fingernails scraped across the front of my shirt, spurring the already hardening of my dick into overdrive. I’d seen photos of her that made my mind picture her in ways I shouldn’t but having her this close and personal was like a real-life fantasy come true.

“Thanks…” I mumbled, navigating the two of us up the stairs

She jerked to a stop and leaned back. Her eyes narrowed as if she was trying to focus them better. “I don’t even know your name. How is it I don’t know you?”

“My name isn't important right now. Getting you into bed is." Relieved that her drunkenness was protecting my identity, I wasn't about to give her my name.

“I want to forget about everything." She sighed and half-walked, half-stumbled toward her bedroom door. Pausing with her hand bracing against the wall, she turned to look back at me. "Can you help me?”

Assuming she meant help with the door, I moved around her and fisted the doorknob. "Here you—" The sudden impact of her body against mine cut off what I was going to say. Rachel rubbed her breasts against me as her fingers fisted the clingy material covering my skin. "Whoa… Rachel. What are you doing?"

I could feel the heat of her core against my thigh, despite the material separating us.

"I need something good to happen… and this," Her hand slid down my front and cupped my crotch. "Feels like it would pretty good."

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