Page 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Dasha

A sharp gasp escaped me at a tool cracking to the ground as I walked into the garage, making a beeline toward my office. My coffee cup jostled, sloshing hot liquid down my hand and onto my dress.

Well, I guess I could be thankful I wasn’t wearing a light color for a change, I decided as I kicked my office door closed and went right for the tissues on my desk, drying my hand, cup, and my black and purple floral dress as well as I could.

I was jumpy.

Because I was over-caffeinated.

Because I wasn’t sleeping.

As far as I could tell, there hadn’t been any other attempts to break into my house since that garage incident.

Unfortunately, that didn’t mean I wasn’t living in fear of it happening again.

It didn’t take a lot of thought to conclude that the most likely reason someone was snooping around was that they wanted both the paperwork for the units… and the keys.

I’d snapped pictures of the documents for the storage units, uploading them to a document storage website to make sure I never lost the information. Then I found an extra keyring and moved all of the padlock keys to it.

I stored the keyring in my purse in a spot between where the fabric lining was coming apart, then stapled that fabric closed, since I had no intentions of using those keys for a while.

I still hadn’t decided what to do about the units, about what was inside of them. And despite my new library card and the internet searches I’d tried to do, I couldn’t figure out how the matters of Uncle Phil’s estate were handled if it was found they’d been maintained with drug money.

So I’d redoubled my efforts to clear out the house. The one unit that someone had already emptied out was now all but bursting with crap from the house.

The living room was a fully functioning space now. As were two of the bedrooms and a quarter of the basement.

And I’d even managed to sell a few items he’d had lying around, which had given me some extra money to buy plants to improve the curb appeal of the little ranch.

I was getting there.

The sooner I did, the sooner I could sell the place and pocket the money. Then I could go to the cops. If the shop got wrapped up in the drug thing, at least I had the house money to live on.

It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was the best I could come up with. I’d lost everything in the move. I had to have a nest egg to fall back on when I did the right thing.

Sucking in a deep breath that no longer smelled like grease and oil and lube thanks to the essential oil diffuser I’d installed in my office—full of relaxing lavender because, well…—I reminded myself for the tenth time just that morning that everything was okay, I was safe, and this was all going to be over soon.

I could move back to Washington, reconnect with my friends, rebuild my life. And this whole Navesink Bank experiment would be nothing more than a fever dream.

Unbidden, Santo’s face popped into my head. Great bone structure, soft eyes, that silky hair…

“Stop,” I grumbled to myself when I felt desire sizzle through my needy system.

It had been nearly two weeks since he’d taken me to Famiglia. Then dropped me off at home in a rush. At first, I’d figured it was just a work thing that tore him away from me. But as more time went by, the more I had to conclude that he’d changed his mind about me. That maybe the teasing from his uncle had made him uncomfortable, so he decided to cut ties.

That was, you know— horrible, upsetting, borderline heartbreaking —not ideal, but it was what it was.

I would just have to get over it.

It was just that my body didn’t care what my mind thought when he traipsed across my memory.

Forcing thoughts of Santo away, I sat down at my desk. Wiggling the tension out of my shoulders, I opened my laptop to pay the bills for the shop, a knot coiled in my belly because I knew how tight things seemed.

In the end, though, everything got paid. And there was just enough leftover to pay the Grassi Family for their protection. Plus, like, fifty bucks.

Yay? I guess.

I closed my laptop lid and leaned back in my chair, closing my tired eyes, wondering how wrong it would be to let myself take a little desk nap. I mean… the blinds were drawn; no one could see.

In a sick way, work had suddenly started to feel a lot less scary than home. If for no other reason than there were always other people milling around—picking up cars, dropping them off, waiting for their oil changes.

I’d just made my decision, folded my arms on my desk, and rested my heavy head on them when there was a sharp knock at my door.

“Ugh,” I grumbled, dreams of a nap slipping away.

I made my way to the door, expecting David—since he was pretty much known for his sharp raps at the door at this point. The other guys, well, they avoided the office like I was harboring a petri dish sporting a brand-spanking-new viral plague.

“Oh!” I said, shocking back to find Santo standing there.

He looked almost bashful with his hands tucked into his pockets, his posture curved forward.

“I told myself I wouldn’t show up until it was time for our monthly meeting,” he said.

“But here you are.”

“But here I am,” he agreed, his gooey eyes moving over me. “You gonna invite me in?”

“Oh, right. Yeah. Of course,” I said, moving out of the way so he could pass.

I closed and locked the door out of habit before making my way back over toward my desk. “Why did you tell yourself not to show up until our appointment?”

“Because I, yet again, forgot to get your number. And I was worried I was moving into creep territory by showing up without an invitation.”

“For the record, it wasn’t creepy.”

“So you’re telling me I wasted two weeks of not doing this,” he said, reaching out, grabbing me by the back of my neck, and pulling me flush against him. “When I could have been doing it?”

Then his lips were on mine, muffling my little whimper as the need spread through me instantly, nearly breathtaking in its intensity.

I sank against him, my arms going around his neck as his slid down my back, sinking into my ass, dragging me against him and making it abundantly clear that I wasn’t the only one who’d been thinking of just this moment since the last time we’d been together.

Santo’s hands were quick to slip under my skirt, to tease over my ass, to sink in and squeeze.

His tongue toyed with mine as he turned me, backing me up against the desk, then reaching for the backs of my thighs.

Following the silent instruction, I let my ass land on the desk. Pressing against my knees, he waited for them to part for him before stepping between.

His hands framed my face for a moment, and the feeling of being not just desired but cherished spread through me, sending my heart somersaulting through my chest, begging for just as much acknowledgment as the desire curling tight in my core.

But then his hands were moving down the sides of my neck over my bare arms, then across to close over my breasts.

A needy little whimper escaped me, and I could feel Santo’s lips curve into a smile against mine for a moment.

Then he was kissing me harder, deeper as his hands squeezed. When desire had my nipples hardening, his thumbs moved around them in slow circles.

My legs rose, slipping and hooking around Santo’s hips, my heels digging into his ass, pulling him closer until he was pressed tightly against me—his hard length right against my aching need.

My hips rocked, trying to get the friction my body was screaming for.

Santo pulled against my hold, getting a grumble out of me that had a sexy little chuckle moving through him.

“Be a good girl and lie back,” he demanded, his lips against my ear, making a shiver work its way down my spine.

I never moved so fast in my life.

I didn’t know what he had planned for me, but I knew I wanted whatever it was.

Santo stood there gazing down at me for a moment, his fingers absentmindedly stroking up and down the sides of my thighs.

Anticipation sizzled across my skin as he started to inch up my skirt until he had it around my waist.

Then, gaze holding mine, he lowered down to my knee. His lips pressed just inside of it, making little butterflies flutter in my belly.

He was making his way upward then, his lips kissing, his tongue teasing, his stubble scraping in a deliciously scandalous way. I knew that when I looked later, I would find the burn of it still bright against my pale skin.

Santo’s tongue teased out, tracing the line of my panties where it met my thigh.

My hips were already wiggling, the memory of his lips on me throwing kindling on the fire of my desire.

When he shifted, though, he didn’t pull my panties to the side but sought out my clit through the material—licking, sucking, teasing.

I grabbed the back of his head, my fingers slipping into his hair, fisting in the silky strands as my hips rocked desperately against him.

Just when I was about to demand he give me more, his hand yanked my panties to the side, and his mouth was on me without the barrier.

I arched off the desk, my inner thighs shaking, and a low moan escaping me.

“Shh,” he reminded me. Only to immediately start circling my clit, making pleasure ping off my nerve endings.

I pressed my lips tightly together, but still there was no way to be silent as his tongue circled, then his fingers slipped inside me, thrusting lazily at first, then harder and faster as he drove me up.

I was embarrassingly close in mere minutes—a testament to how desperate I’d been for him for the past few weeks.

The second his fingers turned inside me and stroked against my top wall, the orgasm screamed through me, making every muscle tense as I cried out behind my closed lips.

Santo’s tongue and fingers were relentless until the orgasm finally loosened its grip on me.

Only then did he move to the side, kissing down my other thigh until he reached my knee.

He stood then, his gaze on me as he slipped his fingers in his mouth, tasting me all over again.

He reached down, sliding the straps of my dress off my shoulders, then grabbing hold of the square-neck bodice and yanking it down, exposing my bra, making me glad I’d worn a halfway cute one that day—a purple to match the flowers of my dress.

That intoxicating little rumbling sound escaped Santo again as he took a deep, steadying breath.

His fingers teased the line of my cups, making little shivers course through me.

Then he grabbed the material of both cups, yanking down hard enough for me to hear the ripping sound of some of the seams.

That was a problem for another time, though.

Right then, nothing in the world mattered but the raw hunger in his eyes as he took in my bare breasts.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his finger teasing over one of my tightened nipples, only making it strain all the more. “So sensitive,” he murmured as another little shiver racked my system.

His gaze oscillated from my face to my chest as his fingers whispered over my skin, as his thumb and forefinger started to do delicious little rolls that had me writhing and whimpering once again.

Only then did he lean down, sucking one of my nipples into his warm mouth, making me arch up into him as his lips sucked in enticing little strobe-like motions.

His tongue teased, circled.

His teeth grazed, nipped.

Then he was moving across my chest to continue the same sweet torment.

I swear I could have come just from that.

But then his head lifted, his lips pressing a kiss between my breasts before he moved to stand again, this time reaching for me, pulling me with him until I slid off the desk to stand with him.

“Are you going to be a good girl and bend over the desk for me?” he asked, his eyes molten with his own need.

I wanted to peel his clothes off.

I wanted to touch and taste every inch of him.

I wanted to take him in my mouth and give him the same selfless pleasure he’d given me.

But, perhaps more than anything, I wanted to bend over the desk for him. I wanted to feel him buried deep inside me, filling the aching emptiness I’d been painfully aware of since meeting him.

I gave him a tight little nod.

That was all he needed.

His hands went to my hips, turning me away from him, then pressing his hand to the center of my back, pushing until I went down on my forearms on the desk, ass out for him.

I heard him draw in a steadying breath as he lifted my skirt again, tucking it around my waist. He went for my panties next, drawing them over my ass, then slipping them down my legs.

I stepped obediently out of them as he moved in closer, his fingers splaying my ass cheeks before one moved between, two fingers thrusting inside me again.

“Still fucking dripping for me,” he said, his voice thick with his own need.

His wallet hit the desk next to me. He fished in it one-handed as his other fingers kept thrusting inside me.

Finding the foil, he left the wallet beside me.

I heard the jingle of his belt as he worked it free, then the lowering of his zipper.

My walls clenched around his fingers, getting that rumble out of him again. Only then, it was starting to sound more like a growl.

There was the whoosh as his pants fell, then the crinkle of the foil.

I was seconds away from turning, from finally getting to see his need.

But then he was pressing a hand into the small of my back as his cock teased between my lips. He stroked me for a long moment, teasing the head of his cock over my clit, then tapping it until I was squirming, until I was whimpering and grabbing the edge of the desk.

When I was sure I couldn’t take the torment for another moment, he slid his cock back down my cleft and thrust deep inside me.

The feel of him—so welcome, so needed—had me momentarily forgetting where we were.

At work.

With my employees just a few dozen feet away.

The moan welled up from somewhere deep, the sound filling the small office.

“Shh, baby,” Santo reminded me, stilling when he was in to the base. “Or I won’t be able to keep fucking you,” he said, brushing my hair to the side so he could see my face. “You want me to fuck you, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” I whimpered as his fingers slid down my sides, then around me, his hands grabbing my breasts just as he started to move in me, slipping almost completely out.

My walls instinctively tightened around him, holding on. That little growl escaped him again as his fingers found my nipples, twisting them to the point of pain, which somehow only made my desire grow.

Just as slowly as he withdrew, he slid back in, dragging a little whimper out of me. But this time, I kept my lips pressed tightly together.

He kept that pace for a few aching moments before he finally lost his grip on his control.

His hands left my breasts, grabbing my hips instead, using them to drag me back against him each time he thrust forward, making me take every thick inch of him.

His movements were just hard at first, unhurried but exquisite.

It wasn’t long, though, before we were both too needy, too desperate for release to take it slow.

He was fucking me then—deep and fast, driving me quickly toward that edge.

I forgot all about being quiet then. I was too far gone. Too wrapped up in him, in the feelings he was creating inside me.

He sent me teetering on that edge.

I sucked in a deep breath to cry out my release as I started to fall.

Santo’s hand slapped over my mouth just in time, muffling my cries as the orgasm crashed through me over and over again.

He fucked me through it, dragging it out, then slamming deep and coming with me with a quiet curse.

There was nothing after, save for the clanking sounds in the garage and the labored breathing in my office as we both came back down together.

Santo reached down, pulling me up until I was against his chest.

Both arms went around me—one hand lightly closing around my throat, the other gently grabbing one of my breasts, a possessive kind of hold that had desire pooling once again.

“That was worth the wait,” he said, his breath on the shell of my ear making me shiver. “Though, next time, we need to be somewhere private. I want to hear you cry out while my cock is inside of you.”

There were a lot of things I could have clung to there.

But what came out of me was, “There’s going to be a next time?”

There was a neediness in my voice that I didn’t like. Santo, though, was nothing but sweet. His lips pressed a soft kiss to my temple. “Not if you don’t want there to be,” he said. “But for the record, I want a repeat. I want a fucking thousand repeats.”

I leaned back into him, turning my face in toward his neck, breathing in his cocoa coffee scent.

“I think I can get on board with that.”

“Yeah? How about tonight?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Don’t even need to think about it?”

“No.”

“No other plans?”

“Nothing I want more than that.”

That little rumble moved through him, vibrated into me.

“It’s settled then,” he said, pressing his forehead to my head for a moment.

It was then there was some shouting from inside, making us break apart.

I busied myself with tucking my boobs away then finding my panties while Santo dealt with the condom and got himself all tucked away.

“I should probably let you get back to work.”

I couldn’t think of anything I wanted less than that.

“Okay,” I agreed, giving him a small smile.

“But… tonight.”

“Tonight,” I agreed as he went for the door.

“Santo! Wait,” I called, a laugh getting caught in my throat.

“What’s up?”

“We still didn’t exchange numbers,” I reminded him.

“Christ,” he said, shaking his head at himself as he turned back, reaching for his phone, unlocking it, and handing it to me.

I did the same, and we both programmed our numbers before handing the others’ phone back.

“What time are you usually done around here?”

“Seven-ish,” I told him.

“Seven?” he asked, brows pinching.

“I like to get a little cleaning up around here done when no one is around,” I told him. “But I can cut out earl—“

“No. It’s okay. Gives me a chance to get something good cooking,” he said.

“You’re going to cook for me?” I asked, my heart squeezing.

“Yep. Dessert and all. I’ll text you my address. Just drive over whenever you’re done here.”

With that, and a sexy little smile, he was gone.

Alone, I sank down on my office chair, sore in all the best places.

And excited for something for the first time in ages.

I just had to survive the rest of my workday.

A feat, as it would turn out, easier said than done.