Once we broke through the writhing bodies, I realised three things.
First, my saviour and captor had no clue whoIwas.
Second, going outside with him would reveal my identity and put me in extreme danger.
And thirdly, and shockingly most importantly, I wanted to stay exactly where I was without him learning the truth.Ever.
The faint outline that I could see of his broad, quarterback shoulders and powerful neck made me groan under my breath. I didn’t need to see his fallen angel dark good looks or merciless eyes to remember how utterly hot he was. I saw it in the hallways of my private school and on the football field several times a week.
His dry callused palm slid against mine and I gasped at the friction.
Trepidation climbed up my spine, but it was soon overtaken by the promise of excitement.He didn’t know who I was. And aslong as I stayed inside in the dark and kept my mouth shut, he would be none the wiser.
I squeezed his hand. He stopped. His gaze bore down on me, trying to decode my intentions. A moment later, my headphones were plucked off and tossed aside.
‘You don’t want to go outside?’ he asked.
I pressed my mouth tighter and shook my head. Then squeezed his hand to confirm my silent wish.
He seemed to debate for a fraction of a second before he was changing course, dragging me to the left side of the warehouse, away from the door and the bar where Ciara had gotten our drinks. Again, the crowd seemed to part for him, but this time I knew why.
He was the most feared and revered boy in school, with a vicious temper he didn’t bother throttling on any given day. Unless you were part of his inner circle, everyone from the principal to the janitor gave him a wide berth.
So what the hell are you doing letting him lead you to goodness knows where?
Common sense, and a healthy dose of belated fear, made me squeeze his hand again. He paused and I sensed his gaze searching mine in the dark.
Then those strong hands were wrapping around my waist, lifting me off my feet.
A second later I was pinned against the wall, and my oblivious saviour, Cesare Salvatore, the firstborn son of my family’s worst enemy, was kissing me.
Full, sensual,forbiddenlips I’d tried my damnedest never to stare at when I was unlucky enough to encounter him in the hallways of Calmonte Catholic Academy seared over mine, pressing, sliding, then parting before his tongue swept in, urgently seeking mine.
My senses reeled so hard I saw constellations. My fingers curled into the expensive stretch of his leather jacket as my legs tightened around his waist. He rolled his hips into me, and I gasped.
Holy fuck.Holy fucking heavenly saints and celestial angels!
I should’ve hated every second of this. Should have regained my senses and run as fast as my feet would carry me. This wasn’t just dangerous behaviour. It was beyond insanity and definitely homicidal.
I’d been around long enough to hear my grandfather’s bitter recounting of how Cesare’s grandfather, Orazio Salvatore, had mercilessly slain the woman he loved simply because she’d spurned his attention in favour of another. That it so happened that the other man had been my grandfather, and thereby locking the former best friends into eternal enmity, would’ve been almost cliché if I didn’t know the stark body count left in the wake of the decades-old Salvatore–Mancinelli war.
And here I was, clinging to the Salvatore heir, begging to become the next casualty. A whimper escaped me, a puny little sound that came nowhere near expressing the turbulent feelings cascading through me.
Reading it as perhaps a request of reprieve, his mouth freed mine, trailing kisses to my ear. ‘Fuck, aren’t you a sexy little thing.’ Deft fingers brushed my nipples and he chuckled with triumph and satisfaction when I jolted with fresh arousal. His lips brushed mine, then returned for a lingering taste. ‘I know every hot piece of ass within a fifty-mile radius. So where have you been hiding this glorious body, hmm?’
I didn’t need to clench my teeth or squeeze my lips together to stop myself from speaking. My tongue was tied into knots from the expert way his hands and mouth were tuning my body. Another shockingly weak cry left my lips as he caught my nipples between his fingers and squeezed.
‘Not going to tell me?’ Dark, sexy laughter rumbled from him, stunning me.
Cesare Salvatore smouldered and snarled and answered wrongs with his powerful fists. All while wearing a devastating smirk with one of those expensive Mayan cigars he favoured hanging from one corner of his sexy mouth.
Heneverlaughed. Not even when he was with his fellow jocks and the pretty chicks who followed him around like a rabid hive.
So it felt like a sacred and wild privilege to hear it. Smoky and mysterious with a hint of a breeze, just like the aftershave that clung to his skin.
‘It’s cool. I love a good mystery. But if you’re going to tell me, better do it before I’m balls-deep in this tight pussy. I’d hate to offend a beautiful girl by calling her Hot Tits when I’m pounding her.’ The hot, almost feral lick of my lips as he said that showered me with fresh shivers. His large hands closed over my breasts, and he groaned long and deep. ‘And if you want to be a good girl and return the favour you can call me?—’
‘Salvatore? Holy shit!Maddie?’
