JOE WAITED FOR the ringing of the phone to click in his ear, signaling someone had picked up the call. Taking one last drag from his cigarette, he flicked the butt to the ground, and watched sparks fly when it hit the pavement. Leaning back against the hotel door, Joe stared up at the sky when he finally heard the call connect.
“Ciao, Lucian here.”
“Wanted to give you an update,” Joe murmured.
“Moved again?”
Joe cleared his throat, and nodded. “Moved this morning—drove for twelve hours, and then I found a spot to settle in again.”
“Good.”
He appreciated how Lucian was smart enough not to question Joe about where he and Liliana now were, or anything like that. The less people knew, the better. It was far more unlikely that information would get out that way.
“How is she today?” Lucian asked.
Joe chuckled dryly. “Same.”
“Well, that’s better than nothing.”
“And not talking to me at all.”
Lucian quieted.
So did Joe.
He wasn’t even entirely sure why he had admitted that to Lucian, as it wasn’t like he wanted the man to know, or thought that he could do something to help. Shit, maybe he just needed to voice it, to handle it.
Who knew?
“I take it she knows things, then,” Lucian said.
Joe shrugged. “Some things—the important bits.”
“Things that make her reevaluate.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Kind of obvious, isn’t it, Joe?”
“Is it if I asked?” he shot back.
Lucian laughed lowly. “My apologies. I meant, men who may seem like strangers—or in some way, scary—to Liliana, she keeps a distance. Maintains a safe, respectable space between her and them.”
“I’m not a stranger.”
Or scary, he added silently.
At least, not to her.
“But perhaps the things she knows about you contradicts what she’s seen or knows,” Lucian offered quietly.
Joe scowled.
He hadn’t thought of it like that.
“Like I said,” Lucian continued thoughtfully, “it might have made her feel as though she needed time to reevaluate. Maybe she could have done that quicker had she been able to put some distance between the two of you, but here you are.”
Distance.
Joe hated that word.
Distance wasn’t possible right now.
Or ever.
Joe figured it was time to get off this conversation, and move onto something else entirely. “What good news do you have for me?”
“Very little, actually.”
“Stab that knife deeper, huh?”
Lucian chuckled darkly. “Trust me, you have no idea how much I wish I had good news on my end.”
“Rich is still MIA, then?”
“Entirely, but it’s worse, too.”
Joe didn’t like the sound of that at all. “How so?”
“The Marcello name has now been dragged into this,” Lucian muttered, his distaste and hatred coating each and every word.
Stiffening against the door, Joe scrubbed a hand down his face. Fuck, he needed a shave like nothing else. And a good night’s sleep, too. Half decent food, a good fuck, and a change of clothes. He needed a lot of things right then.
This was not one of them.
“How?” he asked again.
“Rich’s mother—the senator’s wife—made a public plea that her son has gone missing, which brought the fucking police in on it over the last day or so. There’s talk the FBI might move in, too.”
“I don’t see how that brings the Marcello—”
“She suggested that she didn’t believe her husband’s drowning was accidental, despite the reports to the contrary. Said she had it on good faith that it was intentional, and even dared to add he didn’t drink.”
Joe barked out a laugh at that statement. “He was already drunk when I got there that night. So was she—so much so, that she didn’t hear a thing when I dragged him out of their house, and to the pool in the backyard.”
“We all know what the senator was like, Joe.”
“Then, get to the point.”
“She purposely brought up my family’s name, and that leads me to believe she knows exactly what is going on, or has a good suspicion about it. Probably because of Rich.”
Joe frowned, and his gaze narrowed into the darkness in front of him. “You did want him to know you were coming for him, Lucian.”
The man on the other end of the phone sighed. “Point is—this felt like a last-ditch effort on the wife’s part.”
“What, like maybe if she invoked your family’s name in a public forum, it might save Rich’s life? Keep you all from going after him?”
“Exactly that.”
“See how well that works out for her, I suppose,” Joe mused.
“You’re missing the point, Joe.”
“Sometimes, I do that.”
He had jokes tonight.
Well done to him.
“The point,” Lucian stressed thickly, “is that as clean as this has been working with you to get rid of the others, it’s now dirtier than sin.”
Ah.
Yeah.
Joe hadn’t considered that. His mind was focused in on other things—Liliana, most importantly, and keeping her as safe as he could for the time being.
“When Rich goes—”
“And he will go,” Joe interjected.
“Of course,” Lucian said, “but when he goes, our name is already tossed into the mix. They’ll be looking at us for a while. Attention will be hot, and heavy. We had prepared for that, anyway, sure, but maybe things are a bit more complicated now, considering you and … well, her.”
Shit.
Yeah, difficult.
“That’s one way to put it,” Joe mumbled.
“We’ll need you to go underground, or get back to business in Chicago, Joe. Stay out of sight, and have absolutely no connection to the Marcello family until this dies down, or at least until they have no reason to suspect you were the means we used to pull this off. We don’t want to purposely give them something or someone to dig into. That’s how it all comes crashing down. I know I don’t have to explain why, but—”
“Nature of the business,” Joe cut in.
“It might not be for very long that you would have to stay away.”
But it could be.
Days, certainly.
Weeks, more likely.
Months … probably.
Joe didn’t really want to talk anymore. “I should get back.”
He didn’t offer anything else.
Lucian didn’t ask. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Joe.”
One could only hope.
That meant this would be over.
Joe’s gaze drifted from the flat screen television on the wall to Liliana’s towel-wrapped form as she slipped out of the bathroom. This much larger, and expensive, hotel was likely more up to her tastes than the first one they had used for a night, but she had never said a thing. She didn’t offer him a single complaint.
She only really talked when she wanted food.
He kept her in his peripheral vision as she moved across the room, and sat on the edge of the bed. Her hair hung in damp waves down her back like she had run a towel through it, but still left the strands a bit wet. He knew she had taken her things—an outfit change, and whatever else—into the bathroom with her, so why she came out wearing nothing but a towel was a mystery to him, and not one he wanted to prod into.
She said nothing.
Joe was used to that.
He went back to watching the basketball game playing on the television. Basketball wasn’t really his sport, but it was the first thing he found when he turned on the TV. It would do for his purpose of distracting him, and he wasn’t in the mood to channel surf until he found something more appealing.
“I’m sorry.”
Joe stiffened.
He wasn’t sure he heard her right.
Turning a bit to stare at Liliana, he asked, “Pardon?”
“I said,” she clarified louder, “I’m sorry, Joe.”
“Why?”
He wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for, or even why. He didn’t think she had anything to apologize for, really. None of this was her fault. He thought she already knew that.
“For me and you,” she muttered. “Us, and this, I guess. I’m sorry.”
Joe blinked. “I still don’t know where you’re going with this.”
And he had the distinct feeling he wasn’t going to like it, either.
She waved between them, although she never lifted her gaze to look at him. He probably hated that the most, but didn’t have time to think on it for long when she was already moving onto the next thing, and speaking again.
“This … us,” she said again, “it’s a little confusing for me. Relationships, maybe. I never really had one of those before—not a serious one, you know what I mean?”
Joe shrugged. “Sure, me either.”
Liliana did glance up at that, and her gaze met his with an intensity that had him stilling in place when she asked, “Really, never?”
“Nope.”
“Oh.”
“I guess I just never found someone I wanted to have that with …” Joe trailed off before adding quieter, “Until you, that is.”
Liliana peered down at her twisting hands. A nervous tic he recognized that she did whenever words were failing her, and she was struggling to come up with the right thing to say. He wished she wouldn’t do that at all—but hey, she was talking, and that was something different than she had been doing for far too long.
He wasn’t about to ruin it.
Not by pushing her.
“The one man I thought did love me in a romantic way ended up hurting me,” Liliana said, “and I think that still fucks with my head a lot. And then I get this stuff about you shoveled onto me, too, and it’s not the Joe I knew, or the one I met. It’s not the one who came to my place at night, or the man who watched me dance. It’s not the one who made me feel safe, or perfect.”
Joe swallowed hard.
He made her feel perfect.
She should feel perfect.
“You are perfect,” Joe murmured.
Liliana looked up again, but a line of water had dampened her gaze. “Except it is the same man, isn’t it? The things you do, who you are, and then what you are with me—it’s all the same person, just in different shades of your life.”
Joe nodded.
What else could he do?
“I give myself whiplash trying to figure out how I feel,” Liliana said sadly.
Joe chuckled. “Me, too.”
“I don’t mean to.”
“It’s okay,” he assured. “Only one thing really matters to me at the end of the day, Tesoro.”
“And what’s that, Joe?”
She didn’t wait a second.
Not even a breath.
“I would.”
That’s all that he cared about.
The rest was inconsequential.
“Okay,” Joe said.
Liliana cocked a brow, and smiled a tiny bit. “Just okay?”
“Yeah, just okay, love. Go get dressed. I ordered you that red velvet cake you liked from the restaurant. It should be here soon. Don’t need to give anybody a show, huh?”
Her laughter coated his dark soul, and Joe swore he still heard it long after she had disappeared back into the bathroom. More than anything, he had wanted to get up, and go to her. Get her back on the bed, lose himself between the heaven of her thighs, and show her just how much that okay really meant to him, but he couldn’t do that …
Not yet.
She had to come to him this time.
He had to let it be on her terms.
Not his.
It was only later in the evening, when all the lights were off, and Joe was hovering in the space between wakefulness and sleep that Liliana finally reached for him again. It started with an innocent whisper from across the bed that had his eyes flying wide open.
“Joe?”
“Hmm, cara?”
“Do you really think that’s what I am—darling?”
Joe tipped his head to the side on the pillow, and grinned at her through the darkness. He could just make out the outline of her features which meant she had to be able to see him, too. “You’ve always been darling, Liliana.”
“Mmm.”
She went silent again.
So did Joe.
And then she reached for him. One hand snaking under the blankets, and coming to rest on his midsection. Her fingers traced the railroad pathway of his abdominal muscles, making each and every one of them jump at the touch.
She came closer under the sheets.
He didn’t move an inch.
“Joe?”
“Hmm?”
“You know it’s okay if you kiss me—touch me. Right?”
Joe only replied, “Only if you want me to, love.”
And he meant it.
Damn, did he ever mean it.
“You know I do; I always want—”
She didn’t even get the rest of her words out before Joe was reaching for her. He pulled his sweet ballerina on top of him in a flurry of laughter, and mussed blankets. Her body rested flat against his as he thrust his fingers into her hair, and yanked her in for a kiss he had been dying for.
He missed her taste.
The softness of her lips.
The way she kissed him.
How her tongue warred with his.
Oh, he missed it.
Her.
The thin cotton boxer-briefs he wore did little to hide the way his cock grew the longer she let him love her mouth. His erection was only urged on by each wiggle and shift of her hips until Liliana had straddled him completely, and was shamelessly grinding her pussy against his dick.
Fuck, he loved that, too.
“I can feel you already,” he mumbled against her lips. “You’re already hot and wet, aren’t you?”
He could feel it.
Her dampness.
Her heat.
Liliana nodded, and her whispers melted into a low moan when he snuck a hand between her thighs. She lifted just enough for him to slide two fingers under the gusset of her panties, and through her slick folds. Her answering shudder when his digits dove into her cunt made him chuckle, but it was the way her pussy hugged his fingers tight that damn near drove him insane with need and want.
He knew what she wanted, too.
“Is that what you want?” he murmured in her ear. “You want me to pet this pussy, Liliana, and make it purr for me?”
“God, yes.”
Her words came out breathless, and spun.
“What do you want, then, my mouth or my fingers first?”
She hesitated.
Her hazel eyes—darkened with lust and locked on his—drifted over his lax, lazy grin when she said, “Both.”
Joe’s smirk was wicked.
Sinful.
“That’s my girl. Get those clothes of yours off, and turn around.”
She still remembered what he had told her that first time—listening would get her everything she wanted, and more when it came to him. She wasted no time moving off him just long enough to shed her panties, and tight tank-top. She slid back on top of him, but this time, he had the perfect view of her ass.
Joe slid his hand from the curve of her backside, to the middle of her spine before he pressed down firmly with his hand. His position, with his back and head slightly raised against the headboard, gave him ample room to do what he wanted like this.
“Head down, and ass high. If you want, you can make that mouth of yours useful, and get my cock ready for you. Got it?”
“Jesus, Joe.”
His hand landed down on her right ass cheek with a firm swat, and pinked the skin. She stiffened at the smack, but her back relaxed when the sweet sigh she released.
“Yes,” she quickly corrected, “I understand.”
“Good. Take me out, and then give me your hands.”
“W-what?”
He’d made her stutter on her words when he stroked that sleek pussy of hers—all pink, and wet for him—as she spoke. It looked good enough to eat, and he knew she was going to taste hot and tart on his tongue once he really got her worked up good.
He looked forward to it.
“Take me out,” Joe said, working two fingers in and out of her pussy and enjoying the wet sounds her cunt made for him with every stroke, “and then give me your hands.”
Joe knew Liliana was struggling.
To trust, or not to trust.
To compare, or not to compare.
And yet, he didn’t think that she even realized her heart had long ago made the choice that her brain had not. Because she didn’t question him at all as she freed his hard cock from his boxer-briefs, and then extended her arms back to him to lock in tight at her lower back within his large grasp.
“Ask me for it,” he said softly, “use words, babe.”
“Please, Joe. Please give me your mouth and your fingers, and then your cock, too. Please.”
“Good girl.”
It wasn’t like he was actually going to refuse.
Liliana’s warm, silken lips encased his dick at the same time Joe lowered his face to the heaven between her thighs. He hadn’t been wrong—that first taste of her was like nothing else. A flavor unique to her, and it only got better the more she shook, and the hotter her body became. The initial stroke of this tongue through the slit of her sex to tease and test her had Liliana moaning hard despite his dick being halfway in her mouth.
Fuck.
It took everything in him not to jerk his hips upward, and get her swallowing all of him.
Due time.
All in due time, he told himself.
Her first.
His tongue worked her slit and into her pussy while his one hand kept her arms locked firmly at her back, and his other hand worked at her clit. Just two fingers—light pressure, and small, tight circles against the throbbing bud.
It was more than enough.
He loved the way her body responded.
All wet, warm, and shaking.
The faster he ate her pussy and worked his fingers against her clit, the more she made those sweet little sounds around his cock while she sucked him off. It practically vibrated through his whole body, and made him high and drunk all at the same time.
He didn’t need drugs or a drink for that.
Just her.
“Take that cock,” Joe murmured, pulling away from Liliana’s wet sex just long enough to kiss the curve of her ass cheek. He bit the same spot, and felt her jerk from the surprise shock of pain. He did it again just to feel the way her throat constricted against his dick with her gasp. “Do you wanna swallow my cum after I fuck you, ballerina? Get a taste of you on my dick again?”
She sucked harder.
Her teeth scraped along sensitive flesh.
She did that shit on purpose.
Joe couldn’t take it, and she knew it.
He forced himself to focus on getting her off with his mouth and fingers at least once before he bent her over, and gave her what she wanted the most.
And what he wanted the most.
Joe didn’t relent the second his mouth was back on her pussy. He was the starving man, and she was the fucking feast spread out before him. Her pretty pink pussy spread open for him, and needy. A lot like her, really.
Needy.
Wanting.
Aching, probably.
Liliana released Joe’s cock with a pop when her body tensed, and then the shaking started. “Going to come—shit, don’t stop, please.”
He let go of his hold on her arms when she did fall over the edge, making Liliana fall forward to catch herself on the bed. He grabbed tightly to her ass, letting his fingers dig in to the firm flesh as he lapped up every bit of her arousal that flooded his tongue.
Goddamn.
Yeah, she tasted so much hotter when she came.
Like candy, really.
Joe pulled away from Liliana before she had even stopped gasping his name. He slid higher on the bed, grabbed her around the waist, and pulled her into his lap. She was already widening her legs for him, and grabbing the base of his cock with her warm palm. She was the one to fit the head of his dick at her pussy, and she lowered down on him faster than he expected her to.
He kept her tight to him—her back to his chest. His mouth on her neck, and his arm tight around her chest. His palm came up to cup her throat so he could feel every noise she made before it even escaped her parted lips.
He bit her neck and shoulder, kissed the same spots, too, as his other hand slid between her thighs, and found her warm, wet cunt swallowing his dick. He flexed his hips every time she lifted or lowered on him—the push and pull. He wanted to get deeper, fuck her harder, but he also wanted to feel, and to taste.
All of her.
Every fucking inch of her.
“Christ, I can feel you,” he growled in her ear. “So fucking wet, babe.”
His fingers graced the length of his dick when she raised on him again, and he used the wetness from her arousal to drag up to her clit. He toyed, while she fucked. Her answering breathless whines came out high, and sweet.
“Almost, almost,” he heard her whisper.
The promise of her coming again goaded him.
Teased him.
Promised him.
“Fucking give it to me,” Joe demanded. “It’s mine, Liliana.”
“Yours.”
The stiffness in Joe’s back as he felt the sun streak across his skin had him grinning into the pillow instantly. Usually if he woke up sore, he wouldn’t be very fucking pleased about it. Not today, though.
Waking up sore meant good things happened the night before, and he was more than willing to stay right where he was for just long enough to relive it in his memories. That round with Liliana had been one for the ages, and it lasted well into the early morning hours. He slept like the dead because of it. He doubted an elephant walking through the room would have woken him up.
Maybe he had needed that sleep.
Fuck.
What time was it?
Joe checked his watch with one hand, and then reached for Liliana with the other. His hand came up with nothing—air on her side of the bed—at the same time he realized it was closing in on ten in the morning.
Ten.
In the morning.
What the fuck?
“Liliana?”
Joe turned his head, but found the same thing his hand had. Nothing and no one was on Liliana’s side of the bed. Only crumpled blankets, and a pillow with the indent where her head had once rested.
He sat up.
“Liliana!”
He wasn’t going to panic.
No need to fucking panic.
Not yet.
“Liliana?”
Silence answered him back. The fucking hotel room wasn’t that big. It was only the bedroom and sitting room as one damn room, and the bathroom. That was it. It wasn’t like she couldn’t have heard him if she was in the bathroom. And she wasn’t.
He knew it.
The bathroom door was open, the light shut off, and he didn’t hear anything.
Jesus.
Fuck.
A part of him kept screaming, It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.
After all, no one but her father knew where they were, and Joe hadn’t even given Lucian a proper location. There was no possible way someone had found them here—they weren’t registered at the hotel under their real names, and they’d barely left the room for the whole day and half they had been there.
It just wasn’t possible.
Another part of him … a part that somehow just knew … was screaming louder.
She’s gone.
She’s gone.
She’s gone.
A mantra he couldn’t escape.
Joe kicked the sheets off, and snatched the phone from the bedside table. He didn’t know why he thought to call down to the front desk, but he figured if Liliana had left for whatever reason, she likely would have used the front entrance.
Two rings later, and the concierge picked up.
“Mr.—”
“Room 202,” Joe barked, “did you see the woman from room 202 leave this morning?”
“Um … just a second, s—”
“Just think!”
The guy stumbled over his words, and then Joe heard something rustle against the phone. Likely the man’s hand covering the speaker. Seconds later, he was back on.
“A young woman ordered breakfast a couple of hours ago, but no one answered the door when we knocked.”
Joe deflated.
His heart shattered.
Two hours ago?
If she had ordered breakfast, and it hadn’t been delivered two hours ago, but she still wasn’t in the room with Joe … that only meant bad things.
Terrible fucking things.
“No one saw her leave?” Joe asked. “She’s hard to miss—tall, willowy, dark blonde hair half way down her back, and hazel eyes? No one saw her at all?”
The man pulled the phone away, and Joe heard him barking questions to whoever else was around. He knew the man’s answer before he even came back to the phone. And yet, when the concierge delivered those words Joe already fucking knew, they still killed him like a knife driven straight into his heart.
And then the blade was twisted, too.
“Not through the front, sir. Is something wrong?”
Was something wrong?
Oh, no.
No … just his entire life being gone.
His soul ripped to shreds.
Nothing fucking big, or anything.
“How many exits are in this building?”
“One for every floor, sir, and one for every room.”
Joe’s gaze drifted to the small patio that was connected to their room. Yes, it, too, had a small metal ladder that could extend to the ground if needed. Shit.
“How much would it cost me to get a look at your security footage for this morning?” Joe asked.
“Excuse me?”
“I didn’t fucking stutter. How much?”