Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

MINA

Terry making crème br?lée was mesmerising. One of those little blow torches in his large hand, he leaned forward, careful to let the flames lick the top of the desert, browning them.

"It's hard to believe someone so big can do something so dainty, isn't it?" Gianni asked.

I was aware of him stepping into the kitchen, and over to stand beside me. I didn't need to look to know who it was, even before he spoke. He moved differently from anyone else here. His footsteps were lighter, like a cat.

He made no effort to be quiet, but he was anyway. Like he made it his life's work to be unassuming. Physically anyway.

Terry gave him the side eye, but didn't look away from his work.

Gianni chuckled. "He's a master of making desserts. Fortunately for my stomach, he doesn't make them too often." He patted his flat stomach. "When he does, they're sublime." He mimed a chef's kiss.

"They smell incredible," I said. Everything he cooked did. To be fair, he could have made toast with butter on it and it would taste like paradise after five years of stale bread and the occasional apple.

"Can we talk for a minute?" Gianni asked.

I looked over to him. "That sounds ominous. Was Reuben pissed off about me seeing Rose?" I was tired after our flight back and the drive through the city, so I'd opted to take a nap instead of attending that meeting.

My continued lethargy was frustrating, but slowly easing as I got stronger. I could spend longer in the gym now, working out. Soon, I'd be back to my full fitness.

Not soon enough, as far as I was concerned.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Gianni said lightly. He laced my fingers in his and led me out of the kitchen.

"I'm not feeling reassured." I followed him into the library and let him close the door behind us. Was there a chance they figured out who I was? Had Daze told them, even after promising not to?

I decided that was unlikely. The vibe I was getting from him was different to that. He seemed apprehensive, but nothing to suggest he was processing a bombshell that big.

He waved for me to sit down and pulled over a footstool to perch in front of me. "Damon has some…ideas." He grimaced as if he'd tasted something nasty in the past and was now remembering how unpleasant it was.

"Judging by the look on your face, you don't like them," I said.

His expression relaxed slightly. "I like one of them." He explained the plan to drain Kurt's bank accounts. "Reuben thinks you should have the money."

"I suppose so," I said unenthusiastically.

I couldn't explain why I didn't really need it. Not without telling him why. It wouldn't hurt to have extra funds to put into finding the asshole, I supposed. Anything left over after that could go to charity. I didn't want Kurt's dirty money. I didn't have to fake that. I wanted nothing from him.

"What was Damon's other idea?" I asked.

I listened while Gianni told me quickly and briefly what Damon proposed.

My first instinct was to give in to a spike of panic. If they did what he suggested, Dane and Asher would know where I was and what happened to me. That couldn't happen, not yet.

"I told him this was a bad idea," Gianni said. "I'll tell them both to fuck off." He placed his hands to either side of him on the footstool and started to stand.

Without thinking, I grabbed his wrist, my hand snapping out so quickly I surprised myself.

"What if we put out word someone was found down in the basement?" I said slowly. "We don't have to say who. We don't even have to say I'm alive. Knowing he was keeping a woman chained up down there, in a cage, would be enough to make people think twice about supporting him. They may not turn on him, but they might get sloppy."

Gianni lowered himself back down. "Now I know who the brains of the outfit is. We should have thought of that. I was busy being pissed off at Damon."

"He doesn't like me, does he?" I asked. "He'd happily throw me to the wolves."

"Damon doesn't like much of anyone, including himself," Gianni said. "He has some shit in his past to overcome." He hesitated. "Speaking of the past…"

The subtle change in his tone immediately had me on edge.

"What about it?" I asked carefully.

"Damon can't find any sign of a financial debt between your father and Kurt," Gianni said. "You said you don't know what the debt involved, but I don't remember if you said whether or not you knew Kurt before all of that. Did you?"

I hesitated. This would have come up sooner or later, but was I ready to respond?

"Did you know him before he put you down in that cage?" Gianni asked, gentle but insistent.

I sat back and rubbed my forehead with my thumb and fingers. "Yes I did. My father hired him to teach me self defence." Other skills too, but that explanation would do for now. "I guess he paid him in cash, if there's no trail. Or they found a way to hide the transactions." That wasn't my area of expertise.

Gianni's wide lips dropped apart. "He taught you self defence?"

"And he used everything he taught me against me," I said. "He could anticipate what I'd do."

That only helped him in the moments I tried to fight back. Mostly, he used words, reminding me of what happened that night. Breaking me down, bit by bit, with my own guilt.

"Shit," Gianni breathed. "He really is a prick."

I glanced down at the hardwood floor under my bare feet.

"He said he had a thing for me. I told him I wasn't interested. He decided he didn't want to take no for an answer. I don't know what happened between him and Dad." I shook my head. "But somehow Kurt forced his hand so he'd give me to him."

"That's fucked up," Gianni said softly. "It sounds like he was obsessed. I'm obsessed with you, but my obsession is much healthier than that."

I looked back up at him and managed a small smile. "I never said Kurt wasn't unhinged as fuck. Normal people don't lock people down in basements. They don't starve them until they're too weak to stand. They don't…" I didn't need to elaborate. Gianni knew what happened to me.

"By the time we're done with him, the biggest part of him anyone will be able to find will be his little toe," Gianni growled. "I plan to keep him alive until that point. I don't know how, but I will."

"I believe you," I told him. I wished I could tell him everything else. I hated lying to him. Was I as bad as Kurt for doing it? The line was too fine, too blurred, even though I reminded myself I wasn't doing it to be cruel.

"How old were you when you met him?" Gianni asked.

I swallowed to keep the contents of my stomach from coming back up. "I was fourteen. He was about eighteen. Full of anger and arrogance."

I remembered the way he used to throw me, then pin me to the mat and look down at me, like he wanted to devour me. I quickly learned how to throw him off me.

Down in the basement, he'd looked at me the same way, so many times. Usually right before he forced himself on me. Did he ever see me as a person? I doubted it. He thought of me as his possession. A toy he could do whatever he wanted to. As if I had no thoughts or feelings of my own.

"I'm so sorry." Gianni cupped my cheek lightly with his hand. "I wish I could take all the hurt away." He leaned in to brush his lips over mine.

I hesitated for a moment. Pushed my dark thoughts aside to kiss him back. I wanted to think about anything else right now but Kurt. No, I didn't even want to think. I just wanted to feel. I needed a connection to another person that didn't involve fear and violence. I wanted that connection with Gianni.

I wanted more. My body and soul both ached for it.

I took his hand and guided it down between my legs. "Can you…touch me here?" I whispered. "I want to know how it feels to be touched gently."

"Of course I can, sweetheart," he said. He rubbed his knuckles over the front of my jeans, light and tender. My clit throbbed, yearning for more.

I sucked in a breath. Could I do this? I'd be exposing myself literally and emotionally.

It was the latter that had me terrified. With some effort, I forced myself not to switch off and retreat into the back of my mind. Doing that would be an injustice to us both.

I managed to work the button loose on my jeans and draw down the zipper.

After another breath, this one more shallow, I lifted my hips to push my jeans down to my thighs. A thin layer of pale pink lace was the only thing between his hand and my pussy.

His eyes were huge, but reverent, very much aware of what I was asking of him. Very much determined to give me exactly that, what and how I needed it.

He rubbed the tips of his fingers across the gusset, with increasing firmness, until I was rolling my hips, increasing the friction.

"Sweetheart—" he whispered.

"Don't stop," I whispered back. "I want more."

He pulled the gusset aside and slid his fingers against my bare pussy.

I shivered at his touch, but this was nothing like… I didn't want to think his name right now. I'd never been touched like this before. This was gentle and sweet. At the same time, hot as hell.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"More than okay," I said. "Please?—"

"Can I taste you?" he sounded tentative, like he wasn't sure if he was overstepping boundaries. Worried he'd scare me away.

My tongue swiped over my lips. "I— Yes."

He dropped from the footstool, down to his knees in front of me. With gentle fingers, he gripped my thighs, opening me out to him. His eyes on mine, he lowered his mouth to my pussy. Letting my reactions guide him, he started to lightly tease me with the tip of his tongue.

When I didn't freak out, he carefully pressed a finger inside me, then another.

I was trembling, ready to come faster than I ever would have expected. I found myself looking down at him through a glaze of tears, surprised at myself for not freaking out or wanting to run away. For being able to let him touch me without flinching violently.

I blinked away the tears and watched him fuck me with his mouth and hand. Every lick and stroke brought me closer and closer to coming.

I let out a soft moan and pitched over the edge, into the first orgasm I ever had that I didn't give to myself.

I arched my back and ground myself against his mouth, wanting to enjoy every second, every moment for as long as I could. This was what I'd been missing all this time. A pure, loving connection between two people. Sweet touches from a man who wanted nothing more from me than to see me enjoy myself.

He went on lapping at my pussy until I came all the way down from my orgasm and my vision cleared. My pulse raced like crazy, but the rest of me felt like blissed out rubber.

He pulled his head back and grinned. "Sweetheart, you taste like pure heaven. Sound like it too. I've never heard a woman come like that."

He slid his hand out of me and, with a cheeky smile, licked my release from his fingers.

"Thank you," I said softly. "No one has ever done that for me before."

"I should be thanking you," he said. "For letting me do that for you. I could lick that sweet pussy of yours all day long. And all night. You're so fucking perfect. So fucking mine."

When he said it, there was nothing creepy about it. Nothing to suggest he wanted to hide me away from the world and use me. His tone was one of love and genuine appreciation and respect for me. When he said I was his, he meant I was his to cherish, not to possess. At least, not in the way Kurt wanted to possess me. They couldn't be more different.

"If I'm not careful, I could fall for you," I told him.

He grinned. "That's great, because I've already fallen for you. What's that fishing analogy? Cook, line and sinker?"

I laughed softly and lifted my hips to help him put my panties and jeans back into place. "I think it's hook, line and sinker. But yours is good too."

"Mine is more likely to include food," he said. "I've had my dessert, I'm sure you'd like to have yours. They're probably ready by now." He offered me his hand, just as my stomach rumbled.

I took it and stood. I chewed my lip for a moment before saying, "I want to taste you some day."

"Any time, sweetheart," he said. Judging by the tenting in the front of his pants, he was ready right now. I wished I was too, but we had plenty of time.

I hoped.