Page 59 of Perfect Vengeance

Like a strong shoulder to lean on. Someone to hold her and tell her everything would be all right. More money for the Center. Mostly, that her friends wouldn’t abandon her if they knew the truth. Would Jack throw her in jail if he knew? Would he see her differently?

Of course he would. He’d think she was no better than the scum they’d been stealing from. Her father always told her there was no getting out from under the heavy hand of the mob. Once associated, always associated. She couldn’t risk her past tainting her friends in Jack’s eyes.

Gina stared at the pantry doors but didn’t open them. Tonight, not even chocolate would help.

“You want to tell me what that was all about?” Concern emanated from Jack’s eyes.

She shook her head. “No.” She turned to face him, knowing full well he wanted to grill her about the confrontation with Franco. Confessing the truth wasn’t an option. Stalling for time was. “Can’t this wait until morning, I—” His hands went to her waist, the warmth from his long fingers heating her body and making her shiver at the same time.

“How do you know the Falzones? It’s obvious you and Franco go way back. Even if he doesn’t know it.”

Every ugly burden she’d been shouldering for more than a decade barreled into her. No matter what she did from this point forward, her father was gone. Nothing would bring him or her mother back.

A sob bubbled up her throat. Her past was about to become her present, and soon there’d be no hiding it from her friends. Or Jack. The thought was terrifying.

“Gina.” His voice was soft yet insistent.

Tears leaked from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. Something deep inside her—yearning—uncoiled like a snake waking from a long nap. She slid her hands up Jack’s chest, tracing every hard muscle. His body went rigid, and he pulled away. No. She wanted him. Needed him.

She stood on her toes and kissed him. He didn’t part his lips, so she kissed him again with more pressure. Her heart raced, and just when she thought her efforts were a lost cause, she felt his heart jackhammering against her breasts. “Jack, please.”

The blood in her veins grew hot and thick, leaving her trembling and desperate. If only the man standing before her wasn’t as cold and unmoving as a two-ton block of ice. “I’m sorry,” she began, pulling away. “I’m so embarrassed, I⁠—”

His lips crashed down on hers, his tongue hot and demanding, sweeping the inside of her mouth. Strong hands gripped her waist, hauling her against his body. His hands roved across her back, sending ripples of pleasure to the very center of her that craved him so badly.

He broke the kiss, his chest heaving, nostrils flaring as he stared at her lips, her throat, her breasts. His hands skimmed her shoulders and down her arms, leaving a trail of goose bumps on her skin. When he cupped her breasts, she arched into his hands and moaned.

He hooked his fingers around the thin straps of her gown and slowly, teasingly, tugged the bodice to her waist, exposing her bare breasts to his dark, hooded gaze.

“Please, just…do something,” she all but whimpered. If he didn’t, she’d go up in flames on the spot.

He leaned down and took one of her tight, sensitive nipples into his mouth, plucking gently at her other nipple. She gasped and leaned into him. The rough edge of his cast rasped against her breast and she didn’t care. A bolt of sensation shot straight from her nipples to her throbbing core. This was crazy-wrong on so many levels. So why did it feel so, so right?

He shifted his mouth to her other nipple, laving it with his hot, wet tongue as he pushed her gown lower, past her waist. The dress slithered down her legs, leaving her wearing nothing but beige panties, four-inch stilettos, and more goose bumps racing across her skin.

Again, he cupped her breasts, skimming her tight, sensitive nipples with his thumbs. His nostrils flared, and he drew in tight breaths. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.”

Her body ached and throbbed until she couldn’t take it anymore. Like a crazed woman, she roughly shoved his tuxedo jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. She tore his bow tie loose and threw it on the sofa. Somehow her trembling fingers made quick work of unbuttoning his shirt and tugging it from his waistband. He helped her by removing his gun and the rest of his clothes until he wore only a pair of briefs and… Wow. The bulge beneath the tight black fabric was totally in proportion to the rest of the man.

Gina bit her lip. Sexy didn’t begin to describe the sculpted body standing before her. Massively wide and heavily muscled shoulders made him appear even bigger than when he was fully dressed. Thick pectorals and a distinct six- or eight-pack rippled and bunched as he snagged his pants from the floor and withdrew a black leather wallet. Something shiny appeared in his hand. A condom.

Eager to speed up the get-inside-me-now process, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of his briefs, tugging them to his ankles. He kicked them away, and when she looked up, his erection hung low and heavy.

“Now,” she whispered on a ragged exhale, then stood and looped her arms around his neck. “Take me now.” Before she self-combusted with lust.

With a groan, he slipped his hands beneath her panties, cupping her ass and lifting her as if she weighed no more than a butterfly. He laid her down on the sofa and tugged off her panties.

Wetness seeped from her core, slicking her thighs. He nudged her legs apart and pushed two long fingers inside her. She gasped and thrust her hips upward, impaling herself on his fingers. He thrust deeper, cupping her as he rubbed his palm against her sensitive nub.

Her body trembled with anticipation. Orgasmic tremors threatened to implode, and she forced herself to slow down, or it would all be over too fast. Wasn’t that what she wanted—hard and fast, for one night only and with no strings?

He withdrew his fingers and tore open the condom wrapper, sheathing himself. He positioned himself at her entrance and thrust deep. The breath whooshed from her lungs. Her back arched off the sofa, and he pulled out, almost completely. His concerned, gray eyes met hers, assessing, as if he was making sure she was okay. In answer, she gripped his ass and pulled him back inside her until their hips met.

While she appreciated his concern, she didn’t want slow, and she didn’t want to give herself time to think about how sex with Special Agent Jack Gates was a huge mistake.

“If you do that,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his forehead to hers, “I won’t last long.”

“That’s okay.” She nudged her hips against his, urging him to keep going. “Me either.”