“Hold the bus!” I yell, spotting one up ahead. I push my limbs harder, holding my purse and shoes against my chest as the footsteps behind me draw closer. The doors of the Metrobus are starting to close as I reach it, but I manage to hop on in time. Fiero’s angry face stares at me as the bus drives off, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I slump against the door, attempting to regulate my breathing. I’m panting. My dress is stuck to my back, and I’m sure I’m red-faced and my makeup is half melting off my face, but I don’t care. I’m counting this as a win.
Inquisitive eyes watch me as I swipe my bank card to pay my fare and walk past the first few full rows, trying not to wince at the stinging pain in my foot. I claim a seat on the edge of a row beside an older woman with two grocery bags on her lap. She offers me a small smile before turning to look out the window. It’s my first time on a Metrobus, and I have no clue where it’s going or how I’ll get home because I can’t call Dom to come rescue me. He’d throw a hissy fit if he knew I was on public transport.
I cancel the Uber and slip my feet into my shoes without looking at the injury I’ve collected. I’ll deal with that later. Picking wispy strands of hair from my brow, I smooth it behind my ears while taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart. My mouth is parched, and I would literally kill for a bottle of water right now.
Ten minutes later, just as my heart rate has returned to normal, my ears prick up at the sound of someone revving an engine outside. Trepidation drips down my spine as I look out the window, horrified when I see a flash of red speed past us. My heart is pounding again, crashing against my rib cage as an ominous sense of dread crawls over my skin.
Screams fill the air as passengers are jolted forward in their seats when the driver suddenly slams hard on the brake. I grab the back of the seat in front of me as my head whips forward and back, and my ears protest the loud screeching sound from outside as the tires spin on the overheated asphalt in the effort involved in stopping.
Everyone looks around as the bus finally stills, but I’m staring straight ahead in a bit of a horrified daze.
He is legit insane.
Fists pound on the bus doors, and butterflies swoop into my stomach.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the driver shouts after he opens the doors to the madman on the other side.
“You have something of mine.” Fiero storms onto the bus wearing his teeny training shorts with a white sleeveless training top that clings to his broad chest and toned abs and highlights the most delicious arm porn, which is not something I should be focusing on, not after the ass just called mehis. He is clearly delusional as well as insane. I spy several women sitting more upright in their seats and some openly drooling, and I roll my eyes, wondering if this kind of female reaction follows him everywhere. “I’ll just retrieve her so you good people can be on your way,” he says, flashing a blinding grin as he makes his way toward me.
“Fuck off back to New York, asshole,” some brave soul calls out, and I silently high-five him and concur with his opinion.
Fiero ignores the guy with the dreadlocks, making a beeline for me. His expression is furious, and I swallow back nerves.He wouldn’t hurt me, would he?
“Get up,” he says in a lethally cool tone when he reaches me.
I don’t protest even though I want to tell him to go fuck himself. I know when to pick my battles, and this isn’t the place. I follow behind him quietly, ignoring the curious looks and envious stares.
“Sorry for the trouble.” Fiero slaps a wad of notes into the driver’s hand and his scowl instantly transforms. The driver smiles, nodding at the crazy fucker who just stopped a public bus to grab a girl who isn’t even his.
My eyes are out on stalks as I stare out the front window to where Fiero’s very noticeable red sports car is parked horizontally a few feet in front of the bus, blocking the entire lane and gathering massive attention.
Don Maltese is seriously crazy, and my husband made a deal to hand me over to him for a few days.
What the hell has Dom gotten me into?
5
FIERO
Ispin around when my foot hits the road, facing the bus as I grab the stubborn woman by the waist and haul her over my shoulder.
“Put me down!” she yells, wriggling and trying to get free.
“No. I don’t trust you not to run off again.” I slap her ass over her short blue dress before banding my arm around her upper thighs to hold her in place. Glancing down, I frown at the little trickle of blood running over the edge of her shoe.
“This is kidnapping.” She beats on my back with her small fists, and delicious tremors coast over my skin from the contact. My dick stirs behind my damp shorts, and I will the beast to calm down. These shorts hide fuck all, and the place is thronged with families and innocent kids.
“Scream for help then,” I suggest as I reach my car. Stunned silence greets my words just as I thought. She won’t risk making a scene.
A crowd has gathered around my car, which isn’t surprising. My Aston Martin Vantage is the latest model with a twin-turbo V8 engine and a custom interior including a state-of-the-art entertainment system. There aren’t many of them in Miami. “Get lost.” I glare at every single person as I stalk toward the passenger door with my treasure, pleased when they all scatter without delay. Carefully, I deposit Valentina in the cream-colored leather passenger seat, catching a whiff of peaches from her hair as I lean across her to grab the seat belt. I momentarily close my eyes and inhale deeply.
Yep, I’ve got it bad.
She swats at my hands when I pull the belt across her body. “I can do it!”
“My car. My rules. I’m buckling you in.” My fingers brush against her chest as I fit the belt into place, and my cock jerks a few times in excited anticipation. I cannot wait to get her to Long Island and spend the weekend exploring every inch of her.
“Don’t touch me,” she snaps, narrowing her eyes and glaring at me. But her chest is heaving, her taut nipples are pressing against the front of her dress, and she’s squeezing her thighs together like she’s at a workout class.
