5

The warmth slowly unfreezes my fingers as I flex them, pain prickling all over my skin as they thaw. I clench my jaw, thinking of the sickening sound of cracking bone. It replays over and over in my head. The image of the lead pipe in my hand repeats in my head as I smash it against his knees, producing a thick, meaty sound. His face contorts with pain as his knees explode into fragments. The gag I shove down his mouth only partially muffles his screams.

Fuck, the sounds.

I take my seat at the bar, and Genevieve, the curly-haired bartender, slides me my drink almost immediately, knowing that I’m in one of my moods. She doesn’t even meet my gaze. I slam back the drink, that awful burn reminding me of gasoline, but I swallow it down. It’s like adding mulch over fire. Drinking drowns it out for a little while, but it’s still burning underneath. The flames lick through, and my head starts to pound, and I keep drinking. I don’t remember if I’m drinking to numbness, or whether I’m drinking to feel something, or whether I’m drinking just to drink.

It doesn’t matter, anyway. It always ends up the same.

I take a look around, trying to get my mind off of it—trying to find something sweet to alleviate the bitterness in my mouth—and then I see her.

It’s her again.

I freeze as she whisks by me, a citrus breeze wafting across my nose. I turn around to watch a slim waist, her shirt riding over her hips, giving me a nice view of her perfectly round ass, which bounces in her black leggings. She slides right over the stool next to me without realizing that I’m looking at her, a slight frown creasing her forehead.

Try to keep your dick in your pants.

If Johnny really cared about that, he would have been more clear.

She’s involved with a made guy. You could get killed if you touch her.

Dying for fucking a girl seems like a good way to go. Actually, I’d prefer to die while fucking a girl, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Johnny could kill you.

I don’t give a fuck.

She’s the daughter of a boss. You don’t fuck daughters of bosses. You don’t look at them. You don’t talk to them except to say, “Hello, how are you?” and, “Good-bye.” She’s the forbidden fruit. A conquest.

I have to bang this broad.

My first instinct is to touch her shoulder, her waist, to overwhelm her with my presence. I’m a master at getting girls to come home with me. Before long, I’ll have her begging to suck my cock.

I lean in slightly, and I let my hand grasp the head of her chair. “Hey, beautiful. What’s got you down?”

She doesn’t even look at me. “Fuck off.”

So the Mafia princess has a mouth, doesn’t she? Intriguing. Genevieve hears the exchange and grins at me behind that bar counter.

The energy burning from her body is completely different from last time. Last time, she was scared. Defeated. Today, she’s pissed. Did Johnny turn her down again?

I give Genevieve a nod, and she pours a drink for the girl.

“What’s this?”

“I’m buying you a drink.”

She pushes it away. “I don’t want your fucking drink.”

Then why did you sit right next to me?

“What’s with the tone?”

“You’re just trying to get into my pants.”

“Is it a crime that I think you’re gorgeous?”

She turns her head, her long hair snagging on her creamy shoulders. Brown eyes look at me under her long lashes, and they widen as she takes in my appearance. Gently parted lips beckon to me, and I smile at her. My cock makes an impatient twitch as her lips lift slightly.

Her slim body slides off the stool and she walks close to me. Close enough so that blood pounds in my ears and I’m face-to-face with an amazing view of her cleavage. Her lips, slightly wet with pink lipstick, tremble. The citrus scent floats over my like a cloud, not overpowering, but pleasant.

“I’ll do whatever you want if you get rid of my ex for me.”

Goddamn. The desperation in her voice makes my stomach sink, but I’m tempted to say yes. Fuck him—fuck the mob, I’ll kill him for you because I want to suck on your lips and feel the warmth of your tits in my palms.

Instead, I shake my head, hating the disappointment in her eyes. Her hand slides away from mine.

Don’t let her go!

“I’m sorry, hon. You’re not going to get anyone to agree to do that for you.”

She shakes her head, her eyes watering, and she gives a hopeless, sharp intake of breath that makes my insides clench.

I take her shoulder, half expecting her to throw my hand off, but she lets me touch her skin. My fingers just graze over her and her eyelids flutter.

“Come home with me and you’ll forget all about that asshole. I’ll make you feel really good, Elena. I promise.”

Her body shivers and she steps back from me. Temptation brews in her eyes like a storm gathering. I see it shifting and receding. She wants to, but she doesn’t want to.

Then she opens her mouth, her eyes hardening into marbles.

“I want nothing to do with you.”

Frustration gathers in my chest when she shoots me down. I want this woman—she’s a goddamn prize, and I would gladly shoot her ex-boyfriend in the face if it wouldn’t get me killed.

Elena turns to leave, taking her coat, but I grab her tiny wrist. I pull her into my chest and she utters a gasp. My arm wraps around her waist and she swallows hard.

“At least have a drink with me.”

“No.”

“Come on. One drink.”

She wets her lips, and for a moment I imagine them crushed against mine. My fingers tease around the hem of her shirt and then her eyes glint with pain and she reaches behind herself, grabbing my hands to rip them away from her body.

“You don’t know how to take no for an answer, do you?”

I grin at her, loving how ferocious she is, and the way her brown eyes seem to sparkle with electricity. Girl’s got fire.

“You kissed me back the other night and left me with a raging hard-on. I can’t leave you alone.”

Her mouth parts almost as though she’s about to give in, but then her eyes harden. “I don’t want you. End of story.”

Yet she doesn’t pull away when I grasp her chin and lean down close enough to feel her breath over my cheeks, and to see her neck pulsing with her racing heartbeat. My fingers run along her jaw, moving to the back of her head, into her silky hair. My lips fall against hers, and her mouth opens in a gasp. It’s intoxicating. This girl makes my body hot, and my other arm snakes around her tiny waist. I pull her smoking-hot body into mine, and her tits crush against my chest. I smile against her mouth as she sighs into mine. Her palm flattens against my body.

And she shoves me.

I have a brief view of her red, furious face before a sharp sting hits my cheek, her hand a beige blur. The slap echoes in the bar, despite the noise and the people everywhere. They turn to look at us, but they hardly give me a second glance. I’ve been slapped before. So what? They always go home with me.

I didn’t even fucking see it coming.

My chest shakes with laughter as she stands frozen with a semi-paralyzed look on her face, and then she turns around and bolts from the bar.

This isn’t over, honey.