15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Dominic

I park my black SUV outside the apartment building that the dancers live in around ten p.m.

All of the girls should be at work, which means that Gianna can slip out to see me without us getting caught.

I've been busy for over a week investigating what is going on with the Bianchi family. I think I've tracked down their business partner that Vince is scared of, and I offered to take the man out when I went to Atlantic City to handle the other business Vince wanted attended to.

This seemed to make Vince happy, and the fact that I lied and said that I sent Gianna away also mollified him somewhat.

Hopefully, he will think that she decided to run away on her own, which is why the Bianchis are still looking for her. Hiding her at the apartment where my dancers live was a stroke of genius on my part. No one will think to look for her there.

"Hey, stranger," I whisper to her as she slips into my car. She giggles.

"I missed you," she says to me as I drive away. I head toward the other side of town. There's a large park there and I have planned for us to spend some time there where we won't be observed.

"I missed you more," I say back, navigating a turn and looking in the rearview mirror to make sure we aren't being tailed. That's the last thing I would need.

"How are…things?" she says to me carefully. I'm proud of her for adjusting so rapidly to being cautious with her words. I think about the brash, bossy girl I met a few months ago.

It's hard to imagine that girl and this version of Gianna being the same person.

She seems almost made for the type of life I lead, but that's not really a surprise. She didn't know that she was growing up surrounded by danger, at least not consciously, but she probably learned more than she realized during the early years of her life.

"I think I have a plan that will resolve both of our issues," I say to her. I follow the signs for the park, turning off the main road.

"Good," she says firmly. She has her hands pressed to her belly. She does that a lot lately. I wonder why, but then I'm distracted by a car running a stop sign. I slam on the brakes, and she gasps a little with surprise.

"Sorry," I tell her, placing a hand on her shoulder before driving on.

"Are you leaving me here while you take care of things?" she asks me.

I sigh. "That's probably for the best," I say. "However, I don't know how long I will have to be in Atlantic City."

She eyes me sidelong as I drive to the back of the parking lot at the park and kill the engine. I look at her, so petite and pretty, her beautiful body hidden by her drab maid's uniform.

I know I feel too close to her. I know that she's become too essential to my emotional well-being. I know that should scare me, but for some reason, it just doesn't. I'm tired of being lonely, and I think she is as well.

"I'll miss you," she says in a small voice. She's looking at her hands that are on her belly as if she's trying to decide whether or not to say something.

"I think we should go to Atlantic City together," I tell her, voicing my plan out loud. Her eyes shoot up to meet mine, a flush in her cheeks. She grins at me.

"Really?" she says eagerly.

I find myself grinning back. "Yes, really. But you will have to use a fake name and we will need to be careful about who you talk to. Your family is quite influential, and many people could recognize you, even outside of Chicago."

She nods. "Makes sense," she says. She fingers her long, brown hair contemplatively. "Maybe I could dye my hair. Or cut it."

I feel a moment of panic grip me. "No!" I exclaim before I can think about what I'm about to say.

She glances over at me with her brows lifted, then chuckles. "Okay, okay," she says soothingly. "If you like my hair that much, it can stay."

I sigh in relief. I didn't realize how much I loved her long, shiny hair until she said she might change it or cut it off.

I like the feeling of it slipping over my skin when we're making love, or sifting through my fingers when I'm fucking her from behind. It would make me upset if she chopped it off or changed it.

"Can I help you with your…project…while we're there?" she asks me next.

I start to say no right away, then pause. She is a very charming person, and very pretty.

Would it be possible that she might be able to help me to track down the contact that I need to get out of the way to ensure our mutual safety?

"Out with it," she says to me firmly, rotating a little so that she can see me more clearly. If she could put her hands on her hips and tap her foot right now, I'm sure that she would.

I release a long breath, then say, "I've found out that the person I'm looking for goes by ‘The Cobra' on the streets. He's gotten control of a bunch of key trade routes for drugs. Some of those trade routes depend upon the kind of…transportation…that your father's business offers to clients. My stepfather is worried about this person because he has already been in contact to let Vince know that if he steps one foot out of line, he won't be allowed to keep selling product in Chicago. When Vince checked up on whether or not this Cobra person was real, he was told by all of his sources not to mess around."

Gianna is frowning as she thinks about what I've said. "I didn't know my family was helping with that kind of business." She makes a little moue of distaste. "I don't know how I feel about that, honestly. I thought we just had a shipping company for products that people would buy in stores or something. I feel stupid that I never really asked more about where our family's money comes from."

I lift a shoulder negligently. "Why would you have asked that? You were shipped away to go to school and you barely had any contact with your family for years. Before that, you were just a small child."

She nods once, then bites her lip. "Okay, so we need to find this Cobra guy so that you can get rid of him, right?"

I smile at her a little. She sounds so matter-of-fact about the idea of me killing someone I don't even know.

Maybe she's going to fit right into my life after all.

"That's right. The trouble is, I have no idea how to find him. No one seems to know where he lives or what he looks like. That's very unusual."

"Like this person is the Banksy of drug dealers," she says with a laugh.

I join her merriment for a moment, then sober up again. "I don't like how scared Vince is of this guy. Especially since he hasn't ever met with him in person or anything. It's not like Vince to run scared. It makes me think that Vince has gotten in a little too deep with the whole drug sales scene and maybe made a few moves that he shouldn't have. The thing is, his business is small potatoes compared to lots of other mafia groups out there. Most of the reasons that Vince even matters to the people in our line of work is because I'm so good at what I do. So it's weird that he wouldn't have already sent me to kill The Cobra for him."

She's eyeing me without speaking. I wonder what's going on in her pretty little brain. Finally, she says, "How many people have you killed?"

I look back at her, wishing she hadn't asked that question. When I'm with her, I get to pretend that I'm just a normal guy. I don't have to be the Reaper. She may playfully call me that while I fuck her brains out, but really I can just be Dom.

If I tell her how many people I've killed in the name of "work", it will change things between us for good.

"Are you sure that you really want to know that?" I ask her.

She nods at me. "I think it's only fair if I know the truth, don't you?" I see her hand pressing against her belly again.

"Okay," I finally relent. "I only keep track of the number of people that I've been hired to kill. The rest are usually secondary casualties related to being attacked by other mafia groups or people who blundered into me while I was working. I've removed one hundred people who were causing Vince and myself trouble or threatening our business operations.

She's quiet for a moment, her gaze turned down at the hand resting on her belly. "Did they all deserve to die?" she asks.

I nod, then realize that she's not looking at me. "Yes," I say. "I won't do a job if I don't think that the person deserves to die."

"Honor among thieves?" she says to me, but her tone isn't critical.

I shrug. "I guess something like that."

Her mouth is a firm line as she ponders what I have just told her. "Guy is a very bad person. I would have been all right with you killing him."

I laugh abruptly, and she glances over at me.

"Don't laugh at me. He was!"

I shake my head. "I know he wasn't a good boyfriend, but he doesn't deserve to die for that. You got your revenge on him but dumping his stupid ass and coming home. He won't bother you ever again."

"I really do have to thank you for getting rid of him," she says to me. Even now, I can hear the relief in her voice.

"It was my pleasure," I say to her, leaning closer. I put a hand on her cheek. "It's nice to get to rescue a damsel in distress from time to time." I press my lips to hers, and she sighs with pleasure and leans into my touch.

I'm instantly hard for her as her tongue tangles with mine. I hear myself groan as she rakes her fingers through the hair on the back of my head. "I want you, Gi," I say to her softly. "It's been too long."

"It's always been too long, if you ask me," she says back, nipping at my lower lip.

I move my seat back as far as it will go, and gesture to her. "Climb over here. There's lots of room for you."

She wriggles out of her pants and her thong and clambers over the center console. It's dark, and there's no one else in the park. And frankly, I don't care if someone sees us fucking.

She's mine, and deep down, I want the whole world to know it.

I slide my hands up her soft thighs as she straddles me, kneeling on the cushy driver's seat.

I bring up a gentle finger to tease along the seam of her folds and I moan a little when I feel how wet she is for me. She gasps and her hips jolt forward at my touch. Her long honey-brown hair hangs over her shoulder, tickling my cheek and smelling of flowers.

"You're already so wet for me," I murmur to her, parting the lips of her pussy and delving two fingers inside of her. She cries out and her hips starting grinding against my hand eagerly.

"Slow down," I chide her softly, slipping my fingers out of her and gently cupping her sex. "We don't need to be in a big hurry. We've got all night."

She whimpers in protest, but she leans in to kiss me again. I can feel the heat at her core seeping into my skin, and my cock is so hard that it hurts. I release her tender flesh and reach down to unbuckle my slacks. I slip my boxer briefs out of the way and my cock leaps free, raging to be inside of her.

She glances down between us, and then looks at me, one brow lifted a little. "I thought you wanted me to slow down," she says teasingly. "Doesn't look like your body is listening to your advice."

I smile at her, and draw her closer so I can kiss her. As she opens her mouth to allow my tongue to tangle with hers, I lift my hips and sink home in her welcoming heat.

She cries out, but I swallow the sound as I kiss her harder. I start thrusting into her, enjoying the way her breasts are crushed against my chest and her ass is so easy to grip.

The angle that this position offers me makes her feel even tighter than usual, and I feel like I could come already.

I force myself to slow down, listening to her non-verbal cues as she rides me. I slip my hands under her shapeless shirt and find that she's not wearing a bra. I squeeze her full breast and she keens at the pressure.

I feel a gush of liquid slide down my cock, and growl in her ear.

"God, you're so fucking sexy," I say to her, nipping her earlobe. I feel another little gush of warmth race over my dick and have to again pull myself back from the edge.

I move my hands back to the soft roundness of her bottom, kneading it as I hear her making sounds that say she's getting close to coming again.

I slither my fingers over and run them gently over the softness of her pucker. She gasps at the added pressure as I slip a finger inside of her, increasing the feeling of fullness created by my cock.

"You like that?" I ask her roughly, stretching her a little as I increase the tempo of my thrusting.

"Oh, God, Dom," she breathes out, her head thrown back with pleasure. "Oh my God, that's good."

I nip at the skin on her neck, and give in to the pressure building in my cock.

"Come for me, love," I order her as I drive into her harder, stretching her and filling her at the same time. "Come for me right now."

And she does, with a scream that hurts my ears in the confined space within the car. My slacks are going to be ruined from absorbing the flood of liquid that rushes from her as she comes violently around me, her booty clenching around my fingers and her pussy locked onto my cock hard.

I thrust into her punishingly three more times, and then roar out my release as my orgasm sweeps me away from reality. I feel myself pumping cum into her as I shake and tremble.

Her forehead comes to rest against mine as she quivers and gasps with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

"Oh my God, Dom," she keeps saying over and over, as if she can't believe what just happened. "I don't know how it's possible, but each time, it's better."

"I couldn't agree more," I rasp out, still trying to catch my breath.

We're sticky and the car smells like sex, and I couldn't care less. I open my mouth to say something else, then stop myself as I realize what I was just about to say.

Surely I don't actually mean the words that almost just slipped from my lips. Surely not.

My eyes pop open as she turns her head so that she can place it on my shoulder. We're still linked, my throbbing cock still clutched in the embrace of her warmth, my fingers still inside of her pucker.

I slowly slide them out and she makes a little sound of sadness as the pressure within her decreases some.

I can't really be thinking that I love this girl.

I can't really be thinking that I should have told her that I loved her.

Besides the obvious fact that I am not the kind of man who deserves to fall in love with a sweet girl like Gianna, it's also just not safe for either of us to get attached.

My line of work is dangerous and chancy. I might get killed walking from the club to my car. I could receive a bomb in the mail or be knifed to death in an alley.

It's not safe for either of us to become too attached. I've already hurt Gianna enough. I can't add my love to the burden I have placed on her.

"Come on," I say, squeezing her shoulder. "Let's get you back home. I'll come get you at the same time in two days, and we'll head out."