24. Claudia

Chapter 24

Claudia

T his time, there are no noise machines, no pumping rubber dick pistons, no pitch blackness or silk sheets, no cameras watching our every move in infrared. There's only Angelo peeling my clothes off, his mouth burying mine with his right there in the hallway like he's too eager to take me to the bed.

His lips find my nipples and he sucks down hard. He keeps my wrists pinned and I squirm against his attention, moaning as he bites and licks each breast, before returning to my pouty lips. I swirl my tongue with his, wanting it bad. He only needs one hand to keep my arms above my head, while the other drifts down my body.

"Even with a broken rib and a bleeding arm, I couldn't stay away from you," he says, his voice husky and harsh. "Fuck, baby, I needed you tonight."

"Maybe you should rethink your priorities."

"You're so fucking wrong about that." His hand slips down between my legs and I whimper when he runs one padded finger up along my slit. "You can say what you like, but you're dripping wet right now, and we both know you want this as much as I do."

"I want to get out of this situation alive. That's mostly what I want."

"Bullshit." He bites one nipple and slides a finger inside. I gasp, back arching into him, a moan escaping my lips. "You want me too. Every time we're around each other, it's this painful magnetism. And the more I resist, the stronger it becomes, until here I am sucking your gorgeous tits and teasing your beautiful pussy when I should be back home getting my arm put back together."

"Like I said," I say through panting breath. "Rethink your priorities."

"I already did." He kisses me hard, a blistering, starving kiss, and my brain's a mush of desire and my body's singing for more.

He could've gone anywhere tonight, he could've done the sensible thing and gotten put back together, and instead?—

He's in my apartment kissing me. Because he can't help himself.

And I have to admit, that's intoxicating.

I push myself into him. I moan as he kisses my neck and ravishes my pussy with his hand, fucking me then teasing my clit, and I don't know how long I can handle his attention. I push into his palm as he fucks me, moving my hips and grinding into him like a pathetic needy kitten, and he growls into my mouth as his fingers gush in and out, and my brain's somewhere by the ceiling, and I moan his name as I come on his hand.

It's fucking bliss. I'm shuddering and sweating, and I still can't move. I'm his, all his, completely controlled and aching. He licks up between my breasts, rolls a tongue around my nipples, and kisses my lips softly.

"I love that," he whispers, his forehead against mine. "Fuck, baby, there's nothing more gratifying than watching you come."

"Asshole. I didn't expect this tonight."

"And yet here you are, all messy and moaning for me. What a dirty fucking girl. Do you want more, baby?"

"I want a normal life and a million dollars. Can I have those instead?"

"Granted." He bites my lip. "But first, I'm going to fuck you until you're a quivering wreck. Then we'll see about the money."

I laugh, incredulous. "You're so damn confident."

"It's easy to feel that way when you've already come on my hand." He pulls my arms down and we're stumbling into my room. I kick some mess under the bed, but it's worthless, and it doesn't even matter, because all he can do is stare at me.

I pull off the hoodie and the sweatpants, and I take his cock in my hands. I stroke him as I kiss him, and when I drop to my knees while he sits on the edge of the bed, I feel a surge of pure lust run down my spine at the way he's looking at me.

"That's right baby," he whispers as I lick and kiss his shaft. I take his thick tip into my mouth and suck. "Fuck, that feels good."

I moan, one hand between my legs. I'm so wet it's ridiculous. I stroke myself and suck his dick, and normally I'd be self-conscious by now, worried whether I'm doing a good job or not, wondering if he's looking at all my imperfections, but none of that matters with Angelo. All I want is to devour him and to feel bliss while I do it. I suck and lick, and my spit rolls down his shaft, and I don't give a damn if I'm as messy as he claims. It feels so good, riding my hand while I suck his cock. His blissful grunts and growls and his praise make my heart swell.

But he doesn't finish on my tongue. Instead, he drags me into the bed and shoves me face down against my pillows, my pussy in the air, and he slaps my ass hard as I grip the blanket and moan, looking over my shoulder.

He leans forward, kissing me over my shoulder, and the tip of his cock teases my slit. "Every single night since I've met you, I've fallen asleep thinking about fucking you." He slowly sinks himself inside of me from behind and I groan, still not used to his size. But I love this position so much, and once he's eased in deep, I start to push back, wanting more. "Greedy girl," he chides and spanks me.

"Fuck me, Angelo," I say, whining a little.

He pumps deep and pulls back, deep and pulls back, and with each thrust my eyes roll back into my head, until he's giving me what I want. It's rough and tender at the same time, his cock filling me beyond capacity, and when he reaches around my hips to rub a thumb over my clit, it completely breaks me.

I melt for him. I shatter like a good girl. I come, and he moans as I do it, fucking me like a savage until I'm a gooey mess beneath his muscular body, and I can tell he loves it when I come, because he doesn't last much longer. He fills me, hot and gorgeous, and we're both a sweaty mess in tangled sheets by the time we're done.

"Lovely girl," he purrs in my ear, arms wrapped around my body. "I think I made the right call coming here tonight."

"You only say that now because you got sex."

"No, baby, I'm saying that because I got you ."

"God, you're so corny."

I'm smiling despite myself and we stay like that until the dryer goes off, but he doesn't bother getting dressed.

The coffee maker gurgles and the eggs fry. I'm humming to myself and the morning feels light and airy. I'm not even stressed about working at Cage tonight for the first time in forever. Angelo's in my room getting dressed, and I'm doing my best not to read into last night too much.

But I'm still running through about a million different scenarios as I try to get a sense of what's happening between us.

I agreed to work with him when I thought it was going to help Serena.

And now he's coming to my apartment in the middle of the night and we're definitely having sex.

Not as some cover—but because we want to.

Or maybe it was always just because we want to.

"Smells good." Angelo appears in the kitchen and stops to kiss my neck. I feel this all-over glowy sensation like my body's getting warm from the inside. "Can I have some?"

"Help yourself."

He pours coffee into an old, chipped mug. He's got his washed clothes back on—they're wrinkled and there are a couple of set-in blood stains that aren't coming out anytime soon, but they're clean enough to wear back home.

I try not to look at him as I finish up the eggs. He accepts his plate and follows me to the table where we sit across from each other, and I want to ask him why he's still here, why he's eating breakfast with me, why he's even in this neighborhood when he could be anywhere else.

The guy's a Bianco. He's filthy rich in a way I'm only guessing at. When this was a mutually beneficial business agreement between two associates, that made sense to me. He needed help getting a read on Tommy, and I needed help getting Serena out of Tommy's clutches. Our needs aligned.

Except this isn't about that anymore. He's here because he wants to be.

And I haven't kicked him out because I want him to stay.

Which raises all sorts of problems that I'm doing my best to ignore.

Over breakfast, he asks about my life. They're normal questions, getting-to-know-you questions, and at first, they make me a little uncomfortable. What's a guy like him going to think about a girl like me? An orphan with an abusive stepfather? I barely graduated high school, and forget about college. But when I give him the abridged and sanitized version of my childhood, he only listens and nods along and asks more questions like he's genuinely interested in who I am.

I'm not used to that kind of attention.

Serena's always been the popular one. She's taller, prettier, with that gorgeous hair and that perfect height. I'm the older, sensible sister. Shorter, curvier, with darker skin and darker eyes.

But Angelo's here, with me, interested in me , and I like it. I really, really like it.

My phone rings and I get up to answer. Serena's number flashes on the screen, which is strange—it's barely past nine and she rarely ever calls unless it has to do with Cage. I answer, moving back to my room, very much on guard. "Serena? Hey, what's up?"

"Claudia." She sounds very awake, almost wired. "I can't talk long. Tommy's still asleep and I just—" She takes a long, deep breath and blows it out. "I've been a bitch to you lately."

I open my mouth to say no, it's totally fine, don't worry , but I swallow it back. "I get it. Things are tough."

"Okay, cool, that's a nice way of saying you're annoyed, and I don't even blame you. But please, listen to me, Claud, this is important. Tommy was talking to some guy on the phone last night and your name came up, and he was saying how he thinks you and Angelo Bianco are sleeping together. He sounded paranoid honestly, like really suspicious, and I'm worried that he's going to try something."

Fear prickles down my arms. "Did he say anything else?"

"Just that he doesn't like how you're spending time with Angelo. And how he thinks Angelo is his enemy or some crap. I don't know, I only heard a little bit. But seriously, why don't you take some time away from the club? At least until things settle down."

I look back toward where Angelo's drinking his coffee and watching me. "I don't think I can do that."

"Please, Claudia, this isn't about that stupid crap with Kayla. I know I was being a real fucking cunt when I said that, and I'm sorry. I was high, okay? And I hate being high around you because you hate it and—" She blows out another frustrated breath. "Just stay home for a little while. That's all."

Then she hangs up. I stare at the phone for a few seconds, trying to process. "You good?" Angelo asks. He's standing closer now, watching me.

"I'm fine." I don't look at him, still trying to put that conversation together in my head. Serena's right, a part of me is wondering if that was about keeping me away, but she didn't sound high. That's giving me pause. She sounded clear, like herself, and she sounded scared. "Serena thinks Tommy's onto us."

Angelo's shoulder tense. He cocks his head. "Tell me exactly what she said." I give him the short version and his jaw flexes. "She's right. You're staying home."

"Absolutely not," I say and push past him when he comes toward me. I grab my coffee and down half of it, even though it's still too hot. My hands curl into fists and I glare at him. "I've been handling myself just fine. I'm not about to walk away from Cage right now. You didn't hear her, but she sounded scared."

"She's scared for you. Which means you should listen. Your sister's a survivor."

"My sister's an addict."

"And addicts have a sixth fucking sense for this sort of thing. If she says stay home, then you're staying home."

"No." I stare him down, aware that I'm being irrational, but I don't care.

The second I stop going to Cage is the second I lose Serena. That's been my feeling from the start. Sure, I've taken nights off, but this isn't going to be a break, I can feel it. This is the start of her pushing me away.

And I won't let that happen, not for any reason.

"Tommy knows I'm coming for him." Angelo speaks low and slowly like he's making sure I take in every single syllable. "Roc and Vito were working with him when they stabbed me in the back. They were all in that shit together, and the second I started picking them off is the second they began talking again. I'd bet anything Roc's in touch with Tommy, and the fuckers are making plans. And those plans might involve you."

I look at the ceiling and squeeze my eyes closed. "If we hadn't gotten involved, Tommy wouldn't have been skeptical."

"No, probably not," he admits.

"Then this is your fault." I stare, trying not to breathe hard, but I'm so mad. I can't lose Serena over this, but if Tommy thinks I'm working with the guy that wants him dead, then I'm screwed. He won't ever let me near my sister again. "I'm going in and I'm going to prove that we're not together."

He goes very still. I regret saying it the second it leaves my lips, but it's the truth, we're not together. We had sex, but that doesn't mean we're married, much less dating. Angelo's not my boyfriend, and I don't owe him anything.

"That's a bad idea," he says and his tone's neutral now like he's burying his feelings.

That hurts. I hate seeing him like this. But Serena's my priority. "Maybe, but it's how things have to be. I can't let my sister down."

"Yeah, I hear you." He turns away and heads to the door. "I can't stop you from making a bad decision, but if you were smart, you'd listen to Serena. You'd stay far away from Cage. At least until I'm finished with that place."

Then he's gone. The door shuts behind him. I feel twisted and pulled thin, yanked between two extremes, from the joy of sharing my bed with him, to this utter disaster.

Except I'm determined, and I know this is the right call. Even if it hurts.