“There are other ways of getting me,” I counter his affection, my tone showing just how unimpressed I am.
“No, there aren’t,” he whispers, his lips once again trailing across my skin. “With that Maverick around, you were only his. I saw it, Amelia, so I know.” Again, he pulls away, only this time to frame my hands with his large, overbearing hands. “Gio would kill me for ever feeling anything for you, but I can’t help it. Everyone loves you, but not how I do.”
“Why did he have to die, though?” I ask him, bringing up a hand to pass over the nape of his neck readying to drive my fingers into his hair. “Why not win me over and leave Maverick in one piece?”
“Because that’s not how we play the game in this business,” he tells me, now releasing my face. “It’s all a matter of life or death. You get nowhere keeping the loser alive. He had to die for you to see me.” He suddenly looks sickened by his own vulnerability, but pushes through using it as a weapon. “I’m hoping you do.”
“Oh, I do,” I utter, trying to keep myself convincingly in tune with him, but it’s getting difficult. They all think of Zane as the underdog, all belittled the thought of him, all undermined my love for him, but now it’s coming back with a vengeance.
Benji and Jimmy were in it for the money, Marius murdered for love, and now I’m left wondering one thing – what is Big Al’s number one motive? The thought is all too consuming for me, and I cannot ignore it any longer. I have my answers, just not my results.
“I had to kill him,” Marius declares to me.
The statement is still startling, but I just let the feeling wash through me. I’m guessing word hasn’t gotten back to him yet that Zane is very much alive and breathing. I won’t burst his bubble. He’s making this far too fucking easy for me.
“Let’s not kill the mood by talking about Zane Maverick. He isn’t in the picture now,” I comment, lying through the skin of teeth. I don’t remember when it became so easy for me to lie, but it’s paying off. “I left Jimmy a little tied up upstairs,” I announce, suddenly trying to pull us apart from one another.
“What about round one here and round two upstairs?” Marius asks me and kisses my chin.
This time I remain unresponsive to his advances. Round one. That saying is all too familiar, and the words all but sucker punch me in the gut. That’s what Zane uses to describe our second chance romance. We failed at round one – he wants to make round two unforgettable.
“Hey,” Marius exhales against my skin and pulls back. “Something I said?”
“No,” I lie, shaking my head. I look at him and smile. “Let’s not leave the poor guy upstairs waiting. You can have rounds two to ten with me.” I watch his face ignite at the thought and slip out from under his body. As I walk away toward the kitchen, flaunting my sensuality with each step I take, and I hear him start to quickly undress. His jacket hits the floor first, then he scuttles along trying to pull shoes and socks off. I can imagine that next goes his tie, then he makes a mess of unbuttoning his shirt. As he does that, I grab the leftover champagne, reach for two glasses and the orange juice, setting it all in front of me.
“You think Jimmy will be able to keep up?” Marius asks as he follows me at a less erratic, desperate pace.
“We’ve already started on a bottle of champagne, you’ve got to catch up to him,” I mention as I reach into my bra for that potent vial. I snatch it out, quickly click the lid off and pour the contents in. As soon as it’s drained, I’m pushing the bottle back into the confines of my bra and pouring the drink mix on top. I can sense that Marius is right behind me, so I finish and turn with the glass flute. “Here,” I comment as I hand over a glass. “We made mimosas just to keep it a little more casual. I’m going to grab some more champagne.”
“You’re so fucking sexy,” Marius muses as he watches me move around the kitchen, grabbing a strawberry on my way over to the fridge. In nothing but my bra and panties, I find it easy to sashay around the house with absolute prowess oozing from all parts of my body. I can hear from the change in his voice, he’s getting harder and harder the longer he watches me parade around myself. “I’d hate to think what Sal would do if he knew we were up to no business like this.”
“He’d probably castrate you.” I toss my comment over my shoulder, blasé to say the least. “But being naughty is worth more to me than playing by the rules.”