Zane
When it was over, Isabella climbed off me and collapsed on the bed. I could hear her breathing coming hard and I smiled in satisfaction. Not even ten minutes alone and I’d managed to make her scream like a banshee. Oh, yeah. My mojo was back, all right.
Rolling on my side, I gazed at her. She was the hottest woman I’d ever seen, but she seemed different than she had the last time. She was less playful, more serious. She seemed to have a lot more on her plate than she did the first time I’d met her. Now, she seemed like a serious, adult woman. Before, she had been almost girlish.
“Isabella, do you know anything about those men?” I raised my eyebrow at her.
She frowned. “What men?”
“The men who were trying to drag you away,” I said pointedly. “You remember, right? The men from earlier today?”
Isabella sighed and rolled over. “No,” she said softly. “I mean, I did hear something.” She looked up at me with her sparkly green eyes. “They said your name. They said something about how they’d made a deal to take you down.” She frowned at me. “Zane, why would they want to do that?”
I froze in panic as Isabella gave me her guileless stare. She had no way of knowing; she couldn’t know. But in that moment, I was terrified she’d somehow find out the truth. She’d learn about her father and about the fortune she was heir to. I wondered if she’d ever guessed, if there was any kind of familiarity in my surroundings. Even if Gianni hadn’t told his family what he was doing, I had to guess that at least Isabella’s mother knew.
I gulped. Even if Isabella didn’t know, the bad guys who were out to get me could have easily figured out Isabella was Gianni’s daughter. It would be easy to kidnap her and ransom her for a fortune. I knew they were trying to take me down, but Isabella could easily make them a sweet sum of money. Fuck.
Narrowing my eyes, I stared at Isabella. She flushed under the intensity of my gaze. “Did they say anything else?”
Isabella blinked. “No,” she said softly. Her blush deepened and she pulled the silk sheet over her lovely, pendulous breasts. “I mean, I stumbled and fell and made a sound. That was why they grabbed me.”
I nodded. “Right,” I said, trying to maintain my tough-guy act. “Well, have you ever seen them before?”
Isabella shook her tousled blonde head. “No.” She squinted at me. “Zane, do you know something I don’t? Why would they want to do you in?”
I stared at her blankly. Right now was the big moment. I could tell her everything. I could tell her about her father, Gianni, and about me. I could tell her what I really did for a living, where all of the money came from. Where my Porsche came from. Where the silk sheets that were so tantalizingly wrapped around her body came from. But the moment passed. Isabella yawned and I watched her delicate, vulnerable throat bunch up with the force of her yawn. Whatever tender thing had sprouted to life inside of me died abruptly. The less she knows the better. I can protect her better if she doesn’t know what she’s hiding. After all, I still had this big coke deal to pull off. I figured I could tell her everything afterwards, if she was still around. She’ll just have to deal with not knowing.
“Wanna grab some dinner?”
Isabella looked at me. “Sure,” she said softly. “Can you answer my question first?”
I shrugged. “I got no fuckin’ idea why they would want to do me in, honey. But I can tell you’re starving. What do you think about some pizza?”
Isabella nodded. A grateful look washed over her face. It only made my anxiety worse. She was obviously relieved that I didn’t have anything to do with the guys who had tried to kidnap her. A knot formed in my stomach when I realized how upset she would be at learning the truth. Even though I knew it was for her own good, I didn’t feel great about lying to her. Isabella wasn’t like most of the other girls I slept around with. She was smart, caring. Even if she was a little clingy, she wasn’t stupid.
“Get dressed.” I jerked my head towards the bedroom door. “I’ll order a pie.”
Isabella climbed out of bed and I had to work to keep my jaw from dropping. She was stacked. She’d always had a great rack, but now they seemed almost twice as big. I grinned and Isabella blushed when she caught me watching her.
“What?”
“You look so fuckin’ hot,” I told her. “I’m tempted to throw you back into bed.”
Isabella actually smiled. “Please, no,” she said in mock-helplessness. “I couldn’t handle that! No more!” She winked at me. “I’m so sore, Zane.”
I grinned. “You’re gonna be so sore you won’t be able to walk for a week when I’m done with you, baby.”
Isabella crossed the room and pulled her shirt over her head. She winced as the fabric tugged over her breasts. “I’m already sore,” she whined. She looked at me with a hopeful expression on her face. “Pizza?”
I laughed. “You’re adorable,” I told her. “And yeah, I’ll call a pizza. What do you want on yours?”
She flopped back down on the bed. The hem of her shirt barely covered her ass and I felt my cock twitch as I watched her soft curves recline on the silk sheets. I was filled with the intense desire to pin her on her back, yank her panties down with my teeth and bury my face between her legs until she was sobbing with pleasure. I loved the way she tasted and I wanted to feel her juices running down my face again.
“Veggies,” Isabella said.
I wrinkled my nose. “Come on, I’m not on a fuckin’ diet, honey. We’re getting pepperoni, mushrooms, and sausage. I can’t eat a pizza with green shit on it.”
I expected Isabella to argue but she actually smiled. “That sounds really good,” she admitted. “I’ll have that, too.”
I turned away from her as I yanked my pants up over my hips and reached for the phone. I had a good place on speed dial that was only a few miles away from the house. By the time I’d ordered dinner, Isabella had reclined back on the bed and she was making eyes at me. Even though I’d been hit with a tsunami of lust just a few minutes ago, there was something about the situation that seemed off to me. As much as I didn’t mind lying to almost everyone else, there was something unsettling about lying to Isabella. Or rather, keeping her own past from her. I shivered. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to grow up without a father, only to find out that Daddy Dearest was a Mafioso. After all, Gianni had been second-in-command to Lionel for years and years. Gianni had been a trusted friend, like family. And Isabella had no idea what she was involved in. I watched her lean back and sigh. The gold locket caught in her cleavage, drowning in flesh.
“Come on, downstairs,” I snapped. “I don’t eat in bed. I’m not a fuckin’ pig.”
Isabella pouted but she obligingly got up and tugged on jeans. “I’m so tired,” she complained. “I feel like I’ve been on my feet for weeks.”
I stared at her. There was something different about her, all right. But I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was like something had happened in the few weeks we hadn’t been in touch. Maybe she’d been with someone else; maybe something else had happened. But she seemed a little more reserved, and grateful to be around me. I shook my head. I’d fucked up girls before by not calling. Isabella had seemed more stable than that. I wondered what had happened.
We walked downstairs in silence. I grabbed a beer for myself from the fridge. “Want one?” I grinned at Isabella. “You’re cute when you drink.”
She shook her head. “Just water for me, thanks,” she added. “I’ll get it, that’s okay.”
I rolled my eyes. “Just sit down. I’ll bring you a glass.”
Isabella blushed again and lowered herself into one of my wooden kitchen chairs. She pulled a flyer from the table towards her and frowned at it. “What is this?”
“Some shit with my friend Jake,” I said, sliding a glass of ice water across the table towards Isabella. “Some car show shit.” I knew exactly what it was: another chance for me to meet the Russians who were going to be instrumental in our coke deal. But there was no way I’d tell Isabella that.
“Are you into cars?” Isabella looked at me with her head to the side. “I mean, I know you like your Porsche. But these are mostly older.”
I shook my head. “I’m not obsessed with them,” I said slowly. “Why?”
Isabella shrugged. She gave me a weird little smile and then hid her mouth with her hand. “I dunno,” she replied. “Just trying to get a sense of who you are.”
Before I could ask why, the doorbell rang. I dug around in my pockets for some crumpled bills. I didn’t have anything smaller than a fifty. Isabella gasped when she saw the bills in my hand.
“I had an outing planned to Silk Aria,” I lied, referencing one of the bigger strip clubs outside of Morris. “But then I ran into you again…”
Isabella blushed red. I knew she wouldn’t dare ask me about what I was planning on doing at a strip club. She wanted to seem too chill and cool to be jealous of strippers. When I brought the pizza back over to the table, Isabella had the lid flipped open and a slice in her hand before I could even sit down.
“This is amazing,” she gushed. “I was so hungry. Thanks, Zane.”
I watched as she gobbled down two slices. The way she was eating made me think she wasn’t getting enough at home. I frowned. She was still working. Why was she so hard up for money? Another little prick of guilt hit me. If I told her the truth, she’d be taken care of for the rest of her life. She wouldn’t have to wait around for guys like me to buy her dinner.
As if reading my mind, Isabella looked up at me from the middle of her third slice. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know I’m eating like a pig. I’m just so hungry for some reason.”