Page 53 of His Wicked Wants (West Coast Mobsters #6)

CHAPTER 49

NERO

I pause to look through the peephole before opening the door, half expecting Jack and his gun, with orders from Sandro to eliminate me after all. But when I see who’s standing outside, I fling the door open with a curse. “What on earth are you doing here?” I demand, seizing Gabriel by the arm and dragging him inside.

“I came because I’m not going to let you ghost me again,” he says fiercely.

I can’t help but smile at the sparks in his green eyes. My little gardener has never been cowed by me, and I adore that about him. I cup his face. “Gabriel, believe me, I planned to find a way to contact you,” I tell him. “I promised you we would talk, after all. But if Sandro finds out you’ve been here?—”

“He won’t. And even if he does, I don’t care,” Gabriel says stubbornly. “And besides, I had to give you this.” He holds up my violin case between us, pushing it against my chest, and I feel my heart melt. “So now we can have that talk you’ve been promising—and you can tell me why everyone at Redwood seems to think you’re a spy.”

“Ah, Gabriel,” I sigh, staring down at the violin case. “I wish things were different. But?—”

“No,” he says, with the same fierce obstinacy he used to reserve for the trees on the rise. “You are going to sit down and explain everything to me. And then we’ll figure out what to do about it. Together .”

I look at him, his bright green eyes, the soft brown waves of his hair that inevitably make me want to run my hands through them, and I can’t deny him. “It’s dangerous, what I have to tell you. It makes you a target for forces well beyond the Families of this city. And…well, it doesn’t make me look very good, little gardener. You might not like me much after you hear it.”

He takes my hand and leads me to the couch. “I understand your world, Nero; it’s the same one I was brought up in. So nothing will shock me, I promise.”

“But it should.” I run my hands over his face as he sits next to me, pull him in to give him a quick kiss on the forehead. “It should shock you, Gabriel. I have told you again and again that I am a bad man—and what I’m about to tell you will only confirm it.”

His hands close over mine and pull them from my face. “Let me decide what I think of you, Nero. Do me that courtesy, at least.”

I can’t deny him anything. So I lay it out for him, everything that I’ve been doing here: working for La Contessa, contacting her behind Sandro’s back, watching him, reporting on him… Gabriel takes it all in, quiet and calm, until I’m done. And a silence stretches out between us until I know he’s only trying to find a way to extricate himself from me—from the situation?—

“But you didn’t kill Julian,” he says. “Even though she asked you to.”

“No. And La Contessa will not be pleased with me. So you see how dangerous it is to be around me now. All I have are enemies—Sandro, his mother—I’m a dead man walking, tesoro . That’s why you need to leave now.”

Gabriel stares at me, appalled. “I’m not going anywhere, and you’re crazy if you think I am.”

I grip him by the arms, fear threading through me. “You don’t understand, Gabriel. I have nothing left—nothing but you —and I promised to keep you safe. I couldn’t bear it if you were hurt.”

He smiles, as though amused. But then he slides his hands up over my chest, around my neck. “I keep telling you, pushing me away is the only thing that hurts me. Just stop doing that, and we’ll be fine. I mean it,” he adds, as I try to pull away. His hands tighten around me, make me stand and listen. “You think you’re a bad man. A cruel man. But I know who you really are, Nero. I’ve seen your heart under all of it. And no matter what happens, I’m sticking with you. I’m yours. And you’re mine. We already agreed on that. You don’t get to go back on your word.”

That fierce green fire in his eyes is too much for me, burning away all my objections. “But Gabriel,” I choke out his name. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Tough,” he says, his voice tight now as well. “Because you’ve got me all the same. I love you, Nero Andretti. Do you hear me?”

“I—” It’s too much for a moment. I need to suck in air, wait for the dizziness in my head to pass over. “God help me, Gabriel, I love you, too. I love you. I love you. I?—”

He plants his mouth on mine. Our kiss is urgent, messy, both of us laughing at our desperation before it overtakes us again. I slide my hands into his soft hair, pull him close, and he presses up against me so hard that I can feel his heartbeat thudding in rhythm with mine.

“Show me,” he whispers fiercely. “I need you to show me that you love me.”

My hands are already unbuckling his belt, unfastening his jeans, tugging them down, and then I push him against the wall and kiss him again. And then I sink to my knees in front of him. He stares down at me with surprise. With wonder. “Nero…”

“Do you know what I was thinking as DeLuca and Pedretti drove me here last night? In between all the self-recriminations and regrets, I mean,” I add with a pained chuckle. Gabriel’s cock is long and thin, as elegant as he is, and it’s already filling out as I nose into his bush.

“What were you thinking?”

“I was furious that I had never taken the opportunity to have you flood my mouth. You are so sweet everywhere else, tesoro , I can only imagine what that would taste like. Like honey and apple pie...”

He gives a short, breathless laugh, and then his head tips back as I push his cock to one side and lean in to nuzzle my nose into his velvet, furred nutsack, breathing him in.

“I don’t think I taste like apple pie,” he pants out, “but hell, maybe we should find out.”

The urge to suck, lick, claim is too strong to ignore. So I do, pressing the tip of my tongue against his shaft and dragging it upwards, swirling around the head before taking him in.

Gabriel cries out, his fingers digging into my shoulders as I suck him down, feeling him thicken in my mouth, his length sliding across my tongue. He’s sweet. And he’s salty, too, and bitter, and I can’t get enough. My cheeks hollow as I suck hard, and he moans.

“God,” he groans, “even your mouth is incredible.”

I pull off him for a second. “I’m so glad you appreciate my talents.”

“Don’t stop!” he gasps. “Please don’t stop.”

“Not until you’ve poured your honey down my throat,” I promise him, and return to my task. His hands are in my hair, and I take him as deep as I can, until I feel the hot weight of his balls against my chin. He’s leaking all over my tongue, making me hungry for more. His hips rock back and forth, tentative, until I grab his ass and help him along, help him fuck my mouth, his hands tightening in my hair. He’s getting frantic. I can feel him getting closer, the way his cock thickens again, his head going back, and his body stiffens and he cries out?—

He fills my mouth with hot, sweet liquid and I let it play over my tongue, savoring the taste of him. I rise to my feet, barely letting him catch his breath as I hustle him over to sit on the couch, pulling open my pants to free my demanding cock. “Let me see that lovely face,” I murmur as I begin to stroke myself with one hand, tipping his chin up with the other. “I asked you once if you would like me to come all over it. Mark you as mine. I think I’d like to do that now.”

“Then do it,” he pants. “Because I’m yours.”

And I’m lost.

My eyes stay locked on his beautiful face as I jerk myself hard, fast, my nuts quivering against his chin, his mouth opening just as I reach boiling point?—

I pulse out my claim in thick spurts across his face, gasping, and the I fall onto the couch next to him and pull him close, let my tongue sweep over his face, cleaning him up as he laughs and squirms. He’s a mess, and so am I…

But somehow, this moment is perfect. We’re perfect.

“You are a miracle,” I tell him. “The best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“I bet you say that to all the boys just after you’ve come on their face,” he says, half-dazed still.

“No,” I laugh, and then I find myself become more serious. “No. Only you, Gabriel. Only you. Forever.”

The phone from reception rings just as Gabriel’s eyes turn soft and dewy, and my first instinct is to leave it ringing.

“You better…” He gestures at it with a smile. “It could be important.”

I pick up the receiver with a sigh. “What is it?”

“It’s DeLuca. I’ve got your stuff from Redwood.”

“Come up.” I hang up the phone and then turn to Gabriel. “Raffi DeLuca is here with my luggage. I don’t think he should see you.”

He smiles. “Only place I’m headed is the bathroom to wash off my face, and then the bed for round two. Get rid of him quickly?”

“As fast as I can.” I kiss him again softly, and then he gathers up our clothes from the floor. I follow him to the bedroom just so I can pull on one of the soft terry hotel robes, and then head back to the living room to wait.

DeLuca seems to take an age coming up, but at last there’s a heavy banging on the door. And I’m so dizzy with happiness after the events of this morning, so high on my orgasm, so high on the idea that Gabriel loves me, that I don’t bother checking the peephole.

I’m even smiling as I open the door, I feel so untouchable right now. “Come in,” I say.

“Don’t mind if I do,” says Johnny Jacopo, pushing past me with a stare so cold I think those gray-blue eyes of his must have frosted over. He’s dragging with him the squirming, struggling figure of a woman, and is followed by a very pale Miller Beaumont, and finally Raffi DeLuca, who has—as he claimed—my luggage. His eyes are as flinty as Jacopo’s.

“I was not expecting a large party,” I say pleasantly. “DeLuca, you should have told me. I would have ordered refreshments.”

DeLuca says nothing, just dumps my bags on the floor and takes out his gun.

“You’ve got some explaining to do, Andretti,” Jacopo tells me. He shoves the woman down in an armchair, and she scowls at him.

“Who is that?” I ask politely. Her face is vaguely familiar, but I can’t place her. She is pretty but hard-faced. Her eyes are soulless. Her hair is black—dyed black, cut into blunt black bangs over those empty eyes, which are fixed, strangely, on Miller.

“You’re claiming you don’t know her?” Jack asks. “Not your best play, Andretti. She’s already told us she was here to see you.”

“I have no idea who she is. And I’ll have to insist you leave—all of you. I won’t be part of—” I gesture at the woman, at them. “—whatever this is. Besides, didn’t Sandro order you all to stay away from me?”

“When Miller and I dropped Gabriel off this morning, Miller happened to see her. We took her aside privately?—”

“You dragged me into a back room and threatened me!” the woman breaks in.

“—and she spilled it all, Andretti. About your mission here in LA. And about your part in the invasion. Then we were lucky enough to run into DeLuca with your luggage. Seemed like the perfect opportunity to pay you a visit.”

“I think you must all have lost your minds,” is all I say.

“Wait,” Jack says, looking around. “Where is Gabriel? Is he safe, or have you?—”

“I’m here.” Gabriel chooses this moment to make his entrance, wrapped in a twin robe to mine. I don’t know how much he heard. “If this is about me?—”

“It’s not,” Miller says darkly. “It’s about her .” He points at the woman. “Her and Nero.”

Gabriel looks at the woman and seems puzzled for a moment, before something dawns in his eyes. “But I thought…” He trails off.

“You thought she was dead,” Miller fills in for him. “Because that’s what you were supposed to think—you and the rest of the world.”

“This is all very dramatic,” I interrupt, doing my best to sound bored, though I am on high alert. “But is someone going to tell me the identity of this mysterious femme fatale ?”

“It’s Miller’s sister,” Gabriel says. “Ana?s Beaumont.”