I blink at him, and I know he’s about to laugh again as he heads my way. “You’re insane.”
“You’re starting to sound like a broken record with that shit,” he says, grabbing my arm and pulling me to him. “Is it so wrong that I want to take you upstairs and turn you out where that asshole lays his head? Make you come, over and over... make you scream my name into his pillow? I want his bed sheets to smell like us... want them to smell like that beautiful pussy, the one he’ll never again know, the one he never deserved. Is that really so bad?”
“Yes.” I wrap my arms around his neck, gazing at him. “It’s demented.”
“You think?”
“Absolutely,” I say, “but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do it.”
He grins, leaning closer, kissing me softly before whispering, “I knew there was a reason I tolerated you.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh.
Grabbing my hand (seriously, he’s holding my hand again), Lorenzo leads me upstairs, straight to the bedroom with the terrace. The second we’re inside, he’s all over me. Lips and fingertips explore hidden places, kissing and touching, as I paw at his clothes. We strip down quickly, because who knows how long we have before Gabe shows up, and he shoves me down onto the bed, on my stomach, not being gentle about it. He strokes me before shoving between my legs, raising my ass up off the bed just enough to slide right in.
“Fuck,” I moan as he fills me. “Lorenzo.”
He kisses my back, biting along my shoulder blades, sucking on the skin. I know he’s leaving marks, I can feel the sting, and I know he’s doing it intentionally, like he’s marking his territory, but I don’t mind. Gabe will never see it, but I let him have his moment. If anybody deserved it, it sure as hell would be him.
“Rub your clit,” he says, his voice strained as he thrusts. “Make yourself come.”
“Pretty sure that’s your job.”
“Aren’t I doing enough of the work here?”
“Seriously?” I laugh. “You lazy son of a bitch.”
I reach beneath me, to touch myself, but he beats me to it, smacking my hand away. His touch is rough, borderline painful, as he strokes my clit hard and fast. My breath hitches, a shrill cry escaping.
I come damn near instantly.
“Oh god. Fuck.” Pleasure rushes through me as I fist the sheets. “Christ, I take it back. You’re not lazy. Jesus...”
He fucks me. There’s no other way to describe it. This way, that way, upside down, inside out, he fucks me until my muscles quake and my body aches, my senses all jumbled. I’m covered in sweat, utterly exhausted, and I think it has probably only been minutes but it feels like hours.
“Lorenzo?”
“Yeah?”
“Make yourself come.”
He laughs, mocking me as he says, “Pretty sure that’s your job.”
I clench around him, squeezing his cock.
He groans.
That does it.
He comes.
He doesn’t pull out, coming inside of me, grunting as he fills me, thrusting a few more times before stilling. His lips find my back again, kissing along the sweaty skin, as he slowly pulls out. He starts to say something, but I don’t know what, because noise outside silences him.
The sound of a gate opening.
The sound of a car door.
Gabe’s home.
“Fun’s over,” I say, shoving Lorenzo off of me to get to my feet, scrambling for my clothes as I throw Lorenzo’s at him. We dress, and I’m looking around, tossing the comforter. “Fuck, where’s my underwear?”
“Leave them,” Lorenzo says, grabbing me as a door unlocks downstairs. “We have to go.”
I want to argue, but I can’t, because we need to get out of here right now. Lorenzo shoves the terrace door open, motioning for me to go, and he follows me outside, again closing the door.
“Shit.” I glare down. “I have to jump, don’t I?”
Lorenzo doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t have to. The man swings himself over the railing, just leaping, landing on his feet in the grass.
Asshole makes it look easy.
Me? I fall.
Lorenzo tries to catch me, but there’s no helping it as I hurl through the air, landing on my back with a thud. I flash him all the goods, since my underwear is gone, nearly taking him down with me.
“You’re a fucking mess,” he says, yanking me to my feet before shoving me toward the fence. “Now you get to do it again.”
I do it again, because I have no choice, managing to land on my feet this time since the drop is lower. Lorenzo lands beside me, not hesitating at all, snatching my hand and dragging me away from the place before anyone sees us.
I’m distracted as he pulls me along, staring down at our hands. It’s not some gushy interlocking fingers handhold, but still, he’s holding my hand yet again, and that’s just... whoa.
“You know he’s going to figure it out,” I say, shaking off whatever feelings are stirring up, because it’s neither the time nor the place for it. “I mean, he’s going to find my underwear tangled up in his sheets or something.”
“So?”
“So? So he’ll know.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says. “What’s he going to do, call the police? Wah-wah, nothing got stolen, but someone broke in and fucked in my bed.”
I laugh, because he’s right.
Nobody would give a shit but him.
It’s late, so we make the trek back to Queens. Lorenzo finally lets go of my hand when we hit the subway. The house is dark, Leo still at work, Melody off wherever, so it’s again just the two of us.
“Thank you,” I say, stalling in the foyer. “I’m glad you came along.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Lorenzo says, taking a few steps toward the library before pausing, like he’s waiting for something.
“I had fun,” I say, “and you know, while the sex was great, nothing topped getting to see The Lion King. I think the only thing that would ever be better than that is getting my daughter back.”
I head for the stairs, needing to shower, when Lorenzo’s quiet voice stalls me. “I talked to her.”
Turning, I look at him as he lingers in the hallway. “What?”
“Your daughter,” he says. “I talked to her.”
I gape at him. I’m not sure what to say, what to think, what to do, so I just repeat myself. “What?”
“Aristov called while I was at the warehouse this morning,” he says. “She was with him.”
“And you talked to her?”
“He put her on the phone,” he says, “made her ask for you.”
I feel like I’m being suffocated. It hurts to breathe. “What did you say?”
“I said you weren’t there, but you miss her. Then I told her to put her father on the phone, because he was using her to try to get your location, and I wasn’t having that shit.”
None of what he’s saying wants to sink in, like I can’t comprehend it. He talked to her. He heard her voice. “She was with him this morning?”
Lorenzo nods.
How many times have I called Kassian, desperate for a moment just like that?
I’m going to cry. I know it. I can feel the tears building up, stinging my eyes. So I turn away, walking away, going upstairs so Lorenzo doesn’t have to watch when it happens.
Chapter Nine