Page 7 of Caruso (Vegas Mafia #3)

Chapter Seven

Taylor

I t’s as if I have declared World War Three. The expression in his eyes turns my world upside down. They darken with lust and something akin to possession. It’s as if I have lit a fuse that is fast burning toward the gunpowder.

I’ve shocked him. It’s obvious, and for the first time I’m nervous around him. Will he think badly of me for asking? I hope not because of all the men I’ve met, he is the first one I have wanted to ask.

I want this on my terms, not to give it to any man who decides to take something he’s not entitled to.

Matteo has been respectful, kind and attentive and is the only man I have been attracted to in this way. I want it to be him, and if we only have one night, what a night it will be.

“You are asking the impossible, Taylor.”

My heart sinks.

“I’m sorry. ”

He shocks me by gripping my face between his strong hands, forcing me to look at him as he hisses, “You are asking me for one night. I can’t agree to that. If I take your virginity, I will not walk away, and you will be mine for as long as I say so.”

My heart leaps and flutters against my rib cage. I should be terrified at the lustful spark in his eyes, but I’m excited by it. No man has ever looked at me this way and invoked this reaction from me. Only him and I wonder about that.

His gaze searches deep inside me, and I struggle to breathe. It’s only now I see the whole of him. The power behind the man and not the respectful facade. I have asked the impossible. I realize that because now I understand that one night will never be enough for both of us.

His lips crash against mine as if he cut the brakes. The collision is intense, soul-destroying—soul-captivating. Possession was merely a word until he claimed my soul. Now I understand its meaning. I understand a lot of things.

My hair tumbles down my back as he grips it hard, loosening the tie, exposing me, claiming me.

My heart is fluttering like a caged bird sensing a predator. What have I unleashed? Am I ready for this?

His teeth graze my neck—it’s not enough. His fingers unzip my dress, and it falls to the ground along with any respectability I had left. Today I murdered a man, and this is my reward. Today is a day of reckoning, and I await my fate .

I claw his shirt desperate for contact with his skin. I’m naked on the terrace of his penthouse—he is not.

He drops to his knees, and I gasp as his face buries between my thighs. Nuzzling against me, probing and assaulting my senses.

The cool air is not enough to calm my heated lust.

Then he sighs. A deep sigh of regret—at least that’s what it feels like to me and as he pulls away, shock hits me hard.

What’s happening?

He retrieves my dress from the floor and commands, “Step into the dress.”

A huge ball of shame lodges itself in my gut as I do as he says. He pulls the zipper up, covering my naked body before facing me, gripping my shoulders as he stares into my eyes with a soft expression.

“Not like this.”

I say nothing and must resemble a wounded animal because he strokes my face lightly and whispers, “I will not take your virginity as if it has no value. You are too good for that.”

“You don’t want me.”

It comes across more as a statement than a question, and he shakes his head.

“I didn’t say that. The point of this is—I do. I want you—badly, in fact—but not in this way.”

He grips my hand, and he laces his fingers with mine and nods toward the penthouse.

“Come, we must finish our meal. A lot has happened to you today and you may not be of sound mind. ”

I’m shocked, and for some reason tears fill my eyes, and he wipes them away with a concerned smile.

“What’s up, baby girl?”

“Nobody has ever been so kind to me before. I’m not used to it.”

He chuckles softly. “Listen, the last man who touched you inappropriately ended up with his neck snapped in half. Call it self-preservation.”

It drags a smile out of me.

“You’re afraid of me.”

He nods. “Terrified. Now, the main course will be waiting. Shall we?”

He offers me his arm, and as we head back inside, my heart actually flutters. Who knew that a man like this would be a gentleman? I certainly haven’t met many of those in my life, and now I’m interested.

The candles flicker on the table as we enter the room, and two domed dishes are waiting, our glasses refilled and gentle music humming in the background.

It’s almost a seduction scene, and a shiver passes through me as I experience something new—something addictive.

It’s as if I am special. I’m not. Nobody has ever made me feel special before, and yet here we are now. It’s addictive, enthralling and disarming, and I never want this to end.

As he pulls the chair from the table, I take the seat, his fingers brushing against my neck, which is quickly replaced by his lips as he whispers, “You merely have a reprieve, angel. Call it thinking time. ”

“In case I change my mind?”

“No. Anticipation for what will definitely happen when the meal ends and the next one begins.”

A shiver of expectation passes through me as his words dance around my virginity. Taunting it, informing it of its last few hours, or is it minutes? It could be.

The starter has been replaced by two more domes, and as we lift them, I note the braised beef with creamy mashed potato and succulent vegetables. I can’t help smiling with happiness at the sight and Matteo chuckles softly.

“So, you’re not a vegetarian.”

“No.” I shrug as if it’s of no consequence. “When you don’t know where your next meal is coming from, choice is a luxury you can’t afford.”

His eyes darken, and the easy atmosphere shifts. I falter as I lift my silverware, and his low growl startles me.

“You don’t eat, why?”

“I told you. Money.”

“What are you running from, Taylor?”

It’s the first time he’s demanded an answer from me with a threat edging his words.

He hasn’t said as much, but it’s there in the timbre of his vocal chords.

Danger, retribution, anger, it’s heavy in the air, almost choking me and I realize I have nowhere to hide and my past looms up and surrounds me as it always does when I dare to believe it’s in the past.

“My stepfather.” I say simply, hoping that will be enough of an explanation but already accepting the past will be laid bare on this table tonight.

“Why?”

The air stills as that man ruins a perfectly good evening, and I lower my silverware and fix Matteo with a blank expression.

“When my mother died, he told me I would be her replacement. I ran from that privilege.”

“Did he–?” He doesn’t need to finish the sentence to explain his meaning, and I shake my head.

“I told you, I’m a virgin. I have him to thank for that. No, he made it perfectly clear that as soon as I reached eighteen, he would enjoy that perk when he nailed me to his bed—his words, not mine. So, I made certain I wasn’t around to experience his brand of hell, and I ran away.”

“So, you’re eighteen.”

Matteo’s eyes raise into his hairline, and I shake my head. “I’m twenty-two, so you could say I’ve been hungry for four years.”

“Fuck.”

“I told you, I’ve worked my way through most jobs in this town. It’s taken four years to reach the end of the line.”

“But you remained a virgin—why?”

“Because nobody deserved to be my first. Until you.”

His eyes gleam as I lay honesty on the line and add, “The thing is, Matteo, men see a woman and reasoning goes out of the window. At least when they sense she is down on her luck and out of options. The guys I have met here are of a certain type and believe they have the right to exploit a woman who has nobody to fight in her corner. So, I learned to fight. Not that I needed to sharpen my skills because I have spent the past twelve years learning to defend myself.”

“Which explains what happened downstairs.” Matteo laughs softly. “You fight like an assassin, Taylor. That’s not a skill you can learn on the internet or in any book. Who taught you?”

“Natural ability, I’m guessing.”

“Do you expect me to believe that?”

I close my eyes as I battle against revealing my source, and his warning growl causes me to sigh.

“I had a friend, the only one I’ve had, and I used to follow him around, no matter how much he told me not to.”

Matteo says nothing at all, and the stage is firmly mine, and I allow myself to let the memory slip back into my life, wondering if that will ruin me far more than any guy chancing his luck.

“He was older than me. Tall, full of muscles and a protector. He was also kind and caring and recognized I could use a friend.”

I gloss over the memories and get to the point, without revealing exactly how close we were of mind, not body. I’m not ready for that.

“He used to box in fights set up for money, not honor. He never knew I followed him and slipped into the shadows while I watched him batter men for money. It was–”

I swallow hard, wondering if I should reveal the true horrors I witnessed, and I close my eyes on the pain and whisper, “a fight to the death.”

The air is still, choking me with memories as I remember the stench of evil that surrounded every spectator in the room.

The way they used to pant at the sight of the two men in the makeshift ring.

The way the fighters bled, groaned and pleaded for their lives.

The way they died horrifically, falling into the dirt at their feet to cheers of delight, not sorrow.

Matteo says gently. “What happened to your friend?”

I shrug, relying on the cool detachment that has guarded my heart since that day.

“One night I was sick. I never made it to the fight, and the next day he was gone. I asked around, desperate for news, and all it earned me was a beating from my stepfather. He thought I was seeing him in an inappropriate way, and as he kicked me hard in the ribs, he taunted me by telling me he had died. He had fought and lost, and the man he lost to was kicking me now. The man who would always control me and become my husband. The man who would own my soul and command me for eternity.”

“Do you believe it was him?”

Matteo asks the million-dollar question, and I shake my head.

“No. I don’t. My stepfather was, sorry, is a sloppy fighter and preferred to practise on women.

He picked on those weaker than him, and Jason was strong.

The strongest man I have ever met. So, I ran the next day.

When my stepfather slept, I gathered everything I could.

Money, clothes and food and I slipped away.

I had enough money for a bus ticket out of town, so I took the first one available. ”

“He didn’t come after you?”

“Probably, but he was lazy and didn’t own a car, so the city limits were also his. I knew that if I could get past them, I would be safe. So, I ended up in Vegas, and the rest is history, but he is still there. He will always be there, and one day he may even find me.”

I glance at the food and without looking at Matteo, I begin to eat, conscious this could be my last meal for a while because now Matteo knows who he’s dealing with—what he invited to stay—I am almost positive I will be searching for new employment first thing in the morning.