Chapter 11

11

JJ

Don't do it, don't do it. She's Isaac's girlfriend. Your son's girlfriend, you sick fuck. I squeeze my fingers around the nape of her neck and hold her so close that our eyelashes brush against each other's. Her breathing grows ragged, and her golden-brown eyes lighten until they are amber. The pulse at the hollow of her neck beats like a trapped bird.

"Do it, and you'll not only lose your position in my company, but I'll also make sure Isaac doesn't get a chance to have his paintings displayed in my offices."

Splotches of color smear her cheeks. "You wouldn't," she chokes.

"Try me," I say through gritted teeth.

She sets her jaw, then juts out her chin. "You're a heartless bastard."

"You have no idea how true that is." I release her, and the car draws to a stop in front of my home. I shove the door open, walk around the car, and without waiting for her, walk up the steps. When I reach the top, I turn to find she's pushed the car door open and is standing at the foot of the staircase.

"I'll see you and Isaac in the conservatory in an hour."

"Fuck you," she throws back at me.

I laugh. "I could have you fired for swearing at me, but I guess I'll keep you around for amusement."

The door opens and Craig steps back. I brush past him and stalk over to the stairs, taking them two at a time until I reach my suite. I walk in and head straight for my bathroom, stripping off my clothes as I go along. How dare she say that she can fuck anyone else? She belongs to my son; she can't go around doing something that would break his heart. I won't let her hurt him. That's all this is. I was protecting Isaac from any more heartache. God knows, I've given him enough to last a lifetime. I'm not going to let her compound it by sleeping around.

That's the only reason I'm angry. It has nothing do with the red-hot rage that filled me at the thought of her sleeping with someone else. I'm angry on his behalf. That's why my guts are churning, and that's the only reason my chest feels heavy like I had swallowed a stone. Yep. And I did the right thing by warning her off. I was making sure to safeguard my son's future, is all.

I prowl into the shower and stand under the heavy jets, letting the streams of water beat on my shoulders. I press my palms into the wall of the shower and glance down to where my cock springs up from between my legs. Jesus, this constant state of arousal around her is becoming a nuisance. One whiff of her strawberry-passionfruit scent, and all the blood drained to my groin. It's part of the reason I lashed out at her. That, and because she dared to defy me. Instead of agreeing she'd stay loyal to my son, she challenged me. She's so damn aggravating, so full of life, so vital, so stubborn. What she needs is a good spanking to get her in line. My fingers tingle. I will not jerk off to her again, will not.

The thought of my palm prints on that curvy, dusky ass of hers sends a shudder of desire down my spine. My cock thickens until it fucking hurts. Goddamn her. I grab my dick and massage myself with strong, hard swipes. From the root of my shaft to the swollen head, and again... Honeyed skin, rosebud lips, dilated pupils that stare up at me as she drops to her knees and opens her mouth to take me in. As she swallows me down, and I swell to fill her throat. I wrap her hair around my palm and tug her head back, then forward, as I fuck her mouth. My movements grow faster. She digs her fingers into my thighs and holds on as she stares up at me with those big, brown eyes of hers. Tears squeeze out from the corners of her eyes and trail down her cheeks, leaving black tracks of her mascara. Her eyelashes are spiked, her color high. Her tits heave. Then she releases her hold on me, only to weight my balls and squeeze. My cock extends, the tension at the base of my spine splinters, and with a groan, I empty myself down her throat. The climax goes on and on, and I come so hard I see sparks at the edges of my vision. I squeeze my shaft from base to tip and shake off the last remaining drops of my cum. The water continues to beat down on me. I stagger forward and press my forehead into the wall. Jerking off in my bathroom like I'm a teenager... This is crazy. I need to find a way to take the edge off of my sexual frustration. Call any of the women who'll be only happy to spread her legs and give me a warm hole to fuck. Just until I get my equilibrium back, is all. I switch off the shower, dry myself, and get dressed. Then, I make the call.

By the time I walk down to meet my guests, I feel more like myself. I head toward the conservatory and the buzz of voices reaches me. I wanted to host this party for Massimo Sovrano and his new wife Olivia, not only because I had played a role in bringing them together, but also because it had put the Sovranos in my debt. One I intended to claim. When the doorbell rings, I veer toward it, glad for the interruption. I wave Craig off en route, then open the door.

Massimo and Olivia stand locked in a kiss. A plaster covers one side of his face. Asshole cut his cheek with his own knife, so it'd match the scar on Olivia's cheek—the one she'd gotten when one of the Cosa Nostra 's enemies had fired at her while she was on stage. She'd survived it, come out stronger, and been reunited with Massimo. They faced the challenges together and found each other. Now, he wraps his arm around her and hauls her close, then bends her over his arm and kisses her more deeply. The kiss seems to go on and on. The two of them are so lost in each other, they don't notice me. My chest grows heavy, and my guts churn. A hot sensation, very much like envy, infiltrates my veins. This is bullshit. I am not jealous of them. I'm not. I had my chance at having a wife and kids, and look how I screwed that up. I watch Massimo tilt his head further and Olivia moans. For fuck's sake if they want to make out couldn't they have stayed home? I clear my throat. "We do have bedrooms here, if you'd like me to show you one?" I mutter.

Olivia yelps, tries to pull away, but Massimo continues kissing her for another second or more. By the time he releases her, she's flushed, panting, and her eyes have a glazed look. She blinks up at her husband, who smirks.

She scowls back, then laughs, her features lighting up. Massimo's throat moves as he swallows. He seems like he's been struck by lightning or by love. A look I am never going to wear… A look I don't want to wear. That heavy sensation in my chest sinks to my stomach. I square my shoulders. "You guys ready to come in?"