6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Gianna

Two sugars and cream. I'm amazed I still remember my brother's coffee preference. But it's coming in handy now since I'm planning on bribing him to give me information.

"Here's some coffee." I smile at him. "I thought we could have a chat." My brother is busy on his computer, but he closes it to grab his coffee. I'm not sure if that's so I don't see what is on the screen, or because he's willing to give me the attention I'm after.

We haven't always had the closest relationship, but he's never been a mean older brother.

"So," I start the "chat" after Will silently stares at me for over a minute. "I was really surprised that your friend, Dominic, came to my party."

"He brought you a gift?" William is already looking suspicious.

"Oh, yeah. Some really pretty earrings. Sweet of him. He just seems so different from your other friends." I try to keep my tone light so that Will doesn't realize I'm asking for selfish reasons. But my brother matches my intelligence perfectly and I know he's going to see right through me.

"He is different. Gi, he's not the type of person that Mom and Dad would typically allow in here, never mind invite to your party, but Dom has proven his worth to this family."

"Okay, that's good. Do I want to ask how?"

"No. But he did buy a house from Dad last year."

"Oh, cool. So, he has money."

"Yeah."

"We didn't speak much, but the time I spent with him wasn't terrible. He seems like a good guy…"

"He's not. Gianna, let me be clear. Dom is a friend, and we've gotten close to him. But his name on the streets is Reaper. Think about that for a minute…"

I stare at my brother, his words sinking in. "Reaper as in…the grim reaper?"

"Yes." William's expression is dead serious, and I can tell he's concerned. "I saw you talking to him and smiling. I spoke to him afterwards, and I want you to understand, that not only is he too old for you, he's also not the kind of person you should be seen with."

"Okay." I pull my cardigan around my shoulders and sip on my coffee.

I'm surprised by William's reaction, but this news about Dom makes a lot more sense, taking his image into account. Last night before he left, I got a better look at just one of his arm tattoos—it was a terrifying skull with a scythe piercing out of the eye.

I almost wish that he hadn't kissed me now because all that did was leave me wanting more of him.

***

Lying on my stomach, I pull up my laptop from the bottom of my bed and open my browser.

My whole day was spent looking at job options with my mother. She's convinced that I should go into hospitality, since that's what she did when she left college, but my father wants me to use my business degree for something that feels more worthy to him.

I, on the other hand, have no clue what I want to do.

I thought about studying further, but more than anything, I want my own home as soon as possible. Starting a business might be the wisest move to meet that goal.

For now, we've decided I'll start volunteering at the center for troubled teens. It's always been a passion of mine, and they finally have a spot open for me. Or my father convinced them to open a spot for me.

Either way, I'm taking the opportunity. I get to teach the kids some finance and business skills, hopefully helping them bring in some income to better their situations.

With some of my future sorted, my mind is gravitating back to the burning sensation left on my lips after Dom kissed me.

My talk with Will was shocking, but the more I digest the information, the more I come to the realization that I did have an idea that he wasn't squeaky clean. And that's okay. I'm not looking to marry the guy, just to see if fucking him a second time would be as good as the first.

But I need to know more. In my browser I type, "Chicago Reaper", not sure that I'm going to get any real information. But the internet does not disappoint.

The first three articles are all about the organized crime in Chicago, and a source mentioned a tall man with tattoos that goes by the nickname "Reaper".

It says he's responsible for more than fifteen murders in the city. Most of them are seedy businessmen. I see one that I know was a competitor of my father's a few years ago and my breath catches in my throat.

***

"Hurry up, Gianna." My friends whine at me as I pull on my little black dress with lacy sleeves.

"I'm almost ready, okay?" I've invited them over to get ready, but they're more interested in doing shots than looking good at this point.

"Ugh, we're going to miss the good DJs and get left with the crappy ones."

I look at them all, realizing that I've outgrown this party-crazy crowd. But I appreciate them wanting to take me out tonight. I hurry and throw on shoes, grabbing my bag as we leave.

We finally make it out of my house and to the club, although they all continue to complain about running late for the whole drive.

I blocked them out after a while, determined to turn down any further invites from them.

As I step out of the car, a strange feeling grips my chest. The club we arrived at is the same one I met Reaper at. Or Dom. Ever since I researched him, he's been Reaper in my mind. A man capable of murdering people.

Some of the stories were horrendous, detailing how these men had been tortured before they died. Others were quick kills, painless and easy.

I wondered if he decided how to kill them based on the reason they had to die.

"All right girls," The leader of our group rounds up the ladies. "Now, no man left behind, so if you're leaving let us know. Also," she points at the blonde bombshell of the group. "Please don't let that gross bartender take you up to the VIP room for a blowjob again." The other girls laugh, and Bombshell looks embarrassed. I feel sorry for her.

"The VIP room?" I ask.

"It's a small room upstairs near the bathrooms. The club owners rent it out during the day, and the bartenders use it at night." This explanation causes more giggles from the group, and I give a small smile and thumbs up.

The room must be upstairs near Reaper's office where we hooked up. I wonder what else is up there.

We walk into the club and the girls disperse again. I order a shot and head straight for the dance floor. A few guys try to dance with me, but they can barely keep up.

Three songs in, I see him, sitting at the bar, looking right at me. I look away, trying not to be too obvious.

The more I know about him, the more I want to see him. Talk to him. Possibly even feel those lips on mine again, suck his cock. I dance a few more songs, making sure I stay in his eyesight.

I know it's a dangerous move, and probably not the best step forward for my plans here in Chicago, but he saved me from Guy, so he can't be all that bad.

I can feel my throat getting dry, so I take a break from dancing and go order a drink, standing just one stool away from Dom. I wave and smile at him and he nods slightly.

I can't tell if he's happy to see me, after the last time, or if he's about to call my brother to come and fetch me. I decide to find out for sure.

"Fancy meeting you here," I yell over the music. He looks me up and down, making me grateful for the past-me's decision to wear this dress. I know it hugs all the right places and shows off just enough cleavage but not too much.

"I could say the same thing. Thought this wasn't really your kind of place."

"I'm making up for the boring birthday celebrations."

"Oh, the party was boring?" He raises an eyebrow at me, and it somehow makes his face look softer. Or maybe that's just my imagination.

I laugh. "Not all of it. The ending was quite exciting, actually." Remembering his kiss has my cheeks heating up, and warm sensation seeps down between my legs.

I see a spark in his deep, blue eyes as he nods at me again, the smallest smile playing on his lips. "I'm glad."

"Do you dance?" I ask him.

"Not at all." He shakes his head and takes another sip of his drink.

"Oh, come on, once you're out there it's really easy!" I grab onto his arm and pretend to pull him, using the excuse to touch him. He laughs and puts his large hand over mine.

"Not a chance, darling." My stomach flips, and a crazy thought flies through my mind.

I think about the VIP room, and how I could have this man take me again tonight, finally releasing the tense feeling that has been stuck inside me since he kissed me.

There is no way that Dom is boyfriend material, but that isn't what I want from him.

"Are you scared?" I tease him, still holding onto his arm, but moving a little closer so he can hear me better. His jacket is pulled up slightly, and my hand is resting on his skin.

"There aren't many things that scare me." He speaks close to my ear, and I can feel his warm breath on my skin. I stare into those blue eyes again and lick my lips absentmindedly.

"By the way, thanks for the gift." I let go of his arm, taking a deep breath. "I have a gift for you tonight…" I look around to make sure no one is looking closely at us, then using his legs as partial cover, I quickly slip off the lacy red thong under my dress and squeeze it into his hand.

Dominic looks down, licking his own lips before he looks at me. Feeling a sudden burst of bravery, I smile softly and reach up to whisper in his ear.

"I was thinking about going to the VIP room, if you wanted to join me?"

I step away and watch as he puts my thong into his jacket pocket. Then he places his drink down on the bar and stands up, taking my hand and leading me up the stairs.