Chapter 16

16

Creed

S omehow, I managed to sleep on my side of the bed last night and keep my hands and all my other body parts off my wife while she was sleeping.

I’m waiting for her to wake up, so I can go down on her a few more times when I hear what sounds like my cell phone ringing from the closet safe. It stops for several seconds only to start up again. I relent, crawling out of bed and retrieving it from the safe by punching in the code.

Lorenzo’s name lights up the screen.

I press the button to answer and put it up to my ear. “What?”

“Sorry to bother you so early,” he begins. “But I just got a call from Emilio’s people. He’s having a dinner party tonight.”

“So?” I don’t give two shits about a dinner party at the Rovinas when I have my sexy wife in my bed wearing only my tee .

“So, he’s invited all the families to his estate. Apparently, his oldest son Izaiah is missing.”

“Fuck,” I mutter, shoving my fingers through my messy hair, unable to forget how Zara pulled on it last night when she was humping my face. I want more of that this morning. I need more of her. “Emilio’s missing drug addict son requires a sit down with all the families?”

Dammit. I was hoping it would take a few more days before Emilio realized his son hadn’t been seen or heard from in a while.

“He’s got some nerve calling a meeting like that without asking you first,” Lorenzo says. “What do you want me to tell him?”

I can’t shut down or miss the damn dinner without raising suspicions, even though I would love to spend at least a few more days here alone with Zara. “Tell him I’ll be there. I want Dre and Tristan to come with me whether Emilio likes it or not.”

“I’ll tell his staff to put out two more place settings.”

“You do that. I’ll be back in the city by five. Tell Dre and Tristan to meet us at the penthouse. And I want you to stay with Zara while we’re gone.”

There’s a long pause before he says, “Will do,” and ends the call.

When I return to the bedroom with my phone still in my hand, Zara is sitting up awake, half of her curls loose and falling in a tangled mess.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“We’re going back to the city this afternoon.”

“Oh. So soon? Why?”

“Emilio is having a ‘dinner party’ for all the bosses, which isn’t really a dinner party but likely going to be a bloodbath where he blames everyone for Izaiah’s sudden disappearance.”

“And knowing that, you’re still going? Do you think he found out Izaiah is dead? That we did it?”

I’m growing to love when she uses the term ‘we’ more and more each time .

“Guess we’ll find out soon. If I don’t show, it’ll make me look like a suspect.”

“True,” she replies. “He couldn’t know what we did already, right? Or that we’re married?” When she chews on her bottom lip, it’s impossible for me to not think about her licking my cum off them last night.

“No, I doubt he knows anything we did, and we’re going to keep it that way. Our marriage license is staying off the record for now,” I tell her, glad I made that decision, since I’m not ready for the Rovinas to know I married Izaiah’s baby mama just yet. “And we’re not leaving here until I have breakfast.” I throw the covers off Zara and straddle her clasped lower legs. “How about you take that shirt off and spread your legs for me so I can eat my fill?”

Without hesitation, Zara lifts the tee up and over her head, revealing her perfect, heavy breasts. Why the hell didn’t I have her get naked for me last night? I could’ve watched them jiggle with every orgasm.

“I need to devour those big, beautiful tits of yours first,” I warn her as I run my palms up both of her legs.

Squeezing her breasts together, Zara asks, “Only after you finish on them.”

“Only after I finish on them?” I repeat, surprised by her ballsy demand and loving the challenge all at the same time. “You think covering them in my own cum would stop me from sucking those titties dry?”

“Would it?”

“Hell no.”

“Then prove it.”

“Spread your legs,” I order her, knowing eating her pussy will have me ready to explode in no time.

Sliding her legs up from where I’m straddling them, she bends her knees and opens them wide, holding on to her ankles. While I enjoy having her thighs clamp down on the sides of my head, this way will work just fine.

Lying on my stomach, I slip my palms underneath her ass cheeks to lift her pelvis and dig into the delicious buffet before me.

Zara

Creed doesn’t seem too concerned about Emilio’s little meeting, so I’m trying not to worry about it either. It’s nearly impossible to worry about anything after he went down on me, getting me off three times before he sprayed his release on my breasts and then licked them clean.

It was the single hottest thing I’ve ever done to make this beautiful, dangerous man taste himself after pleasuring me, while all I had to do was lie back and watch him.

The blissed-out state combined with the intoxicating sense of control over the mobster is definitely going to my head.

I like having him at my mercy more than I should.

I don’t think I stopped smiling the entire ride back to the city. Thankfully, we’re in a brand-new SUV Creed rented to drive us back while leaving the garbage one in the garage to deal with later.

I’m yet again wearing nothing but another one of his suit jackets, since my dress was smelly, and Creed said a tee would be too revealing for me to wear on its own in public.

Soon we’re going to have to talk about letting me pick up some of my clothes.

“Lorenzo is going to stay with you tonight,” Creed tells me as we slow down for a stoplight near his building.

Well, that brings me back down to Earth .

“I need a babysitter?”

“It’s for your own protection in case things go badly at Emilio’s,” he says without looking at me, and we both know it’s a lie.

It doesn’t matter how many orgasms Creed Ferraro gave me last night or this morning — I think it was eight in total — he still doesn’t trust me.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says in the long silence. Reaching over to take my hand, he kisses my knuckle right above the diamond ring and wedding band. “It’s nothing personal. I just can’t afford to trust the wrong people. There are too many lives at stake.”

“I can’t tell anyone what happened without screwing myself over,” I remind him.

“I’m well aware of that, so make my life easier by not giving me any reason not to trust you,” Creed says before releasing my hand. “In fact, I’ll put this call on speaker for you to hear.” The light is still red when he pulls out his phone and calls someone, letting me hear it ring.

“A little busy here, boss,” a man answers.

“Just need a few minutes, Roscoe,” Creed snaps back.

“Hold on.” There’s some rustling on the other line before he returns. “I guess you heard about Izaiah Rovina?”

“Yeah, what the hell is going on?”

“He didn’t come home last night, so his father got worried. A traffic cop found his car in the eighty-eighth block of Queens with no sign of him or any foul play. His phone went dead at the same location. Nobody’s seen him. Detectives are checking area cameras for a lead, but so far, nothing’s come up on them.”

“So, then what the hell do you think happened to him?” Creed asks, playing up the lie that we don’t already know where the asshole is currently decomposing. “Do you think him going missing might be connected to the raid that killed Carmine? ”

“Nah, I don’t think it’s connected. You didn’t hear this from me, but the rumors at the station are that he was a big-time H-addict. Most likely it was either a drug deal gone bad or the Sannas grabbed him for dealing in their neighborhood without their permission.”

“Wow. Okay. Thanks for the info. Give me a call if you hear anything else, okay?”

“You got it,” the man says before the call disconnects.

“So, you have officers in the NYPD working for you?” I ask Creed.

“Not just any officers. That was the Commissioner. He swore he had no idea what SWAT was doing that night. The two in command are dead, not by me, and the rest are pointing fingers at each other, saying they were just following orders.”

“Well, hopefully he’s right, and Emilio blames this on a drug dealer or the Queens’ do?.”

“I’ll find out soon enough.”

Creed spends all his spare time in his office until he has to leave while I hang out in the living room flipping television channels.

I don’t see him again until he comes through to answer the door, letting in Lorenzo, Dre, and Tristan. All three are dressed in various fitted suits, complete with colorful pocket handkerchiefs. I notice Creed has changed too.

“She’s still here?” Dre asks as soon as he steps into the living room. “Without any clothes?”

“Do you want me to put your face through that glass coffee table?” Creed asks.

“I just meant that I’m surprised you still have company.”

I guess that means Creed hasn’t told his cousins we’re married. Slipping my left hand with the rings underneath my leg, I wave to the men with my right. “Good to see you all again too.”

While they’re all staring at me, Creed quickly twists off his ring and slips it into his pants pocket. I don’t know why, but seeing him hide away the symbol of our odd little marriage is like a punch to the gut.

When Creed walks toward me, I get to my feet and give him a hug.

“What was that for?” he asks.

“For luck?”

“Fuck,” he grumbles, lowering his eyes from my face to my chest visible in his jacket. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I don’t know. What are you going to do with me?”

He reaches out and rubs his thumb across my bottom lip to part them, making me fairly certain of what he’s thinking about doing to me. And I sort of hate myself for looking forward to the day he lowers me to my knees.

“Why is it so hard to leave you behind?” he asks.

“Because you don’t trust me?” I whisper so only he can hear.

“We both know it’s more than that.”

I do know it’s more than a little trust issue. He wants me.

Creed is a handsome, powerful man who could have anyone he wanted, and he wants me . More than just wanting me, he made me his wife.

And the look in his dark eyes...it feels like he’s obsessed with me.

I love that. Nobody has ever looked at me so intensely. Ever.

Creed’s mouth covers mine without warning, his kiss urgent and demanding, with no restraint as if he forgot or doesn’t care that there are other people in the room with us. When I moan into his mouth, Creed pulls away, his lips lowering to my neck. “Wait for me out in the hallway,” he says to his friends.

As soon as the door shuts, he lifts my arms, loops them around his neck, then turns us around. His lips are still on my neck when both of his palms cup my bare ass cheeks underneath the jacket and squeeze. He groans low and loud right next to my ear.

Finally, he lifts my feet off the ground with his grip on my bottom and then sits down on the sofa, gently guiding me down on him so my knees straddle his lap. Bringing his face to mine, he says, “I dreamed about this ass last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’m surprised I didn’t wake up humping a pillow.”

His comment makes me smile.

“Don’t laugh at me. My blue balls are a very serious, very painful condition.”

“Uh-huh. You’re the one who refuses to let me help relieve the ache…”

“Not yet. I need to know you actually want me, that it’s not an act,” he says. “For now, just let me hold your perfect ass for a few minutes, and then I’ll go.”

“Okay.”

There’s a whole lot of information to unpack in his remark. Creed doesn’t think that I want him?

He kisses me again, this time slower. Our tongues tangle as if we have all the time in the world.

“Fuck. If I don’t leave soon, we’ll be late. I’ll send Lorenzo back in. Tell him to call me if you need me.”

Creed lifts me up and sets me down on the sofa. When he stands and starts to walk away, I grab his hand. “Be careful. Even if there’s no proof yet that he was involved in the raid, you shouldn’t trust Emilio.”

The mobster towering above me smiles down and pulls his hand away. “Emilio just wants to bitch. He won’t touch me tonight or any other night.”

And I really hope he’s right.