CHAPTER TEN
BASIL
GettingGreco alone was easier than I anticipated. Ivanna would have opinions on the Italian mob boss being queer. He’d had a wife and children with her, so I had to guess he was bisexual. And finding him in the sex club added fuel to the fire. She’d say he deserved to die for those things alone, but I only wanted to kill him for my own prestige.
Besides, him being attracted to me made things much more simple. My body’s reaction was only natural. I was playing a part, and it was a sexual situation. Plus, I was young—it happened. So long as I didn’t dwell on what got me hard, I could use it to my advantage.
I’d only caught a glimpse of the driver, his bald spot and white hair standing out starkly against the dark interior as his narrowed eyes caught mine in the mirror. I saw surprise there, and only had a moment to wonder if I wasn’t the usual type Greco picked up before he was raising the privacy screen.
George leaned towards me, and I decided to lean into him. It had to be a calculated decision, because the alternative meant I was attracted to him as well.No. The fingers wrapped around my wrist in a tight grip didn’t have me thrusting into the air, wishing his hand was elsewhere. His warm breath, so close to my skin I could smell the mint, didn’t mean I wanted to kiss him. Nope.
When George leaned in and my breath caught, it was only natural to let him follow through. He nudged my nose with his, breathing me in like I was a rare single malt he wanted to scent before tasting.
“Can I kiss you, Basil?” George whispered, his deep voice vibrating through me.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath anddecidedto let him feel a false sense of security. Besides, the windows were tinted. “Yes.”
The word was barely past my lips when I felt the first soft press of his skin on mine. George kissed my lower lip, licking it before moving on to the top and giving it the same treatment. He was kissing me. I wasn’t kissing him. That meant I wasn’t into it, right?
For the life of me, I couldn’t open my eyes. I let Greco lick into my mouth and gasped at the sensation of his tongue touching mine before it caressed the roof of my mouth. My body was on fire, and I was shaking with the effort to hold still. Cupping my face in his hands, I felt how hard I was panting and couldn’t do anything to stop it.
When George sealed his lips with mine, I heard a mix of sounds that turned me on even more. One was a guttural grunt of pleasure, and the other a soft, moaning whimper. My face flamed under Greco’s touch when I realized the second sound came from me. I let him take the lead, and while he savored my mouth, sounds kept tumbling out of me. I wanted to be mortified, but all I felt was fire.
Kissing women had been perfunctory, something they expected and a way to try to grow an interest in them. Kissing George felt nothing like kissing a woman. His hands engulfed my jawline and the rough stubble around his lips added sensation in a way I never thought would feel pleasant. His deep grunts and sounds of pleasure had me wishing I could climb on George’s lap and rut against him.
So I did.
Without breaking our kiss, I threw my leg over George's lap, and straddled the man I’d been hunting. Deepening the kiss to get another taste, he let me lead. Letting me was how it felt, like he would be in charge the second he decided to. I licked into his mouth and feasted on George’s lips the same way he’d done to me. Bursts of pleasure and joy raced through me and I wanted more.
Thrusting my hips in a slow circle, I was gyrating on him like a stripper giving the most selfish of lapdances. I gripped his lapels and tried to ease the ache I’d never felt so acutely before. It wasn’t enough but I didn’t want to stop. And I didn’t care how my actions made me look. George let me indulge myself for a time, until I paused to take a breath.
Running thumbs along my cheekbones gently, George pulled back. I opened my eyes to find him looking at me with an awestruck expression. We both panted and tasted our lips, staring at each other in wonderment.
Was the kiss as mind-blowing for him as it was for me?
It felt impossible to think so. I’d never kissed a man, let alone a man I planned to kill. He was so confident. I could only guess the number of guys he brought home. The thought made me angry for some reason, and I used it to bring me back into the present. I wasn’t there to kiss him, and I crawled off his lap.
“If that’s the chemistry we have with a kiss,” George moved his hand to my neck and caressed my bare skin under the collar of my dress shirt. The touch against my body, which could easily incapacitate or kill me if he chose, only sent sparks through my belly. “I can’t even imagine how good you’ll be in bed.”
The car slowed and made a few stops and slow turns, leading George to sit up and straighten his clothes. I couldn’t make out much through the dark windows, but street lights showed me snippets of an upscale suburban neighborhood. It made sense a guy withArmanisuits and a driver would live in a nice place. It didn’t impress me.
We pulled into a driveway that wound around a large house, stopping smoothly. I heard the driver get out and close his door, but he didn’t open ours. Discretion, I appreciated it. Also meant the driver didn’t get a good look at me. I needed as few people seeing me there as possible.
“Do you have a lot of staff?” We stepped out after Greco opened the door and offered his hand. I pretended to look around out of curiosity. I spotted one camera immediately and was thankful for the dim lighting. Another was over the door, so I turned my body into his as if I couldn’t keep my hands off. He did have broad shoulders and thick muscles under his layers.
“No, not as much as I used to,” he opened the ornately carved side door and let me inside, a brick and marble covered kitchen with dimmed lighting made it easier to see. “Mostly my driver and his wife, now.”
Two people. Two old people. “Do they live in the house?”
“Why? Do you plan to be noisy?” George asked as he led me out of the kitchen to a butler’s pantry and a back staircase. He chuckled at my shocked expression. “But no, they live in the guest house. We’ll have our privacy.”
“Oh, good,” I nodded and followed his tight ass up the stairs. “And if I change my mind and want to leave?”
“If you want to leave,” George stopped short at the top landing. He turned to me with a soft expression I didn’t expect from him, but it passed quickly. “Go out the way we came and get in the car. Santo will know the side door was opened and come to drive you home. If you stay, I plan to have my way with you.”
It was the perfect situation. The Italian Mafia boss didn’t want to see me go, and he wouldn’t. I’d kill him and go home before his people knew a thing. I’d never have to think about the way he made my body feel ever again. Giorgio Greco was an enemy, and I needed to hate him a little to kill him. But I wanted to feel how George made my body sing, just a little longer.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
