I’m jolted from my frenzied thoughts when a set of determined fingers pulls me into the coat room. The door slams shut as a whiff of a familiar scent wafts under my nose.
“Tommy,” Gemma whispers, her soft breath against my ear. She takes my hands and places them on her slim hips. My fingertips sizzle against the shiny fabric, so close to what lies underneath. My brain screams that I should pull them away. Right now. Before it’s too late.
Something I should have done the first time they ended up there.
Early this morning.
But my body just laughs and tells my brain to fuck off.
Yet again.
“I never got a dance with you tonight. I came to collect,” she murmurs, sliding her hand up the side of my arm and stroking the back of my neck.
My cock thickens, and I swallow a groan. “Gemma,” I mutter. “What are you doing?”
What is she doing? What the hell am I doing?
Or better yet, what have I done?
She lets out a breathless giggle. “I just want to celebrate my birthday with you. I mean, this morning was great, but it wasn’t enough. And I don’t want to waste any more time. What can I say? I know what I want. And I want it again. Now.” She presses her body against me and I pull my head back, the only body part that I seem to have control of right now.
I’m talking about the one attached to my neck, by the way.
The other head is a fucking lost cause right now.
“I’m not afraid of my father, Tommy. I’m old enough to make my own choices. You don’t have to hold back anymore.” Her cherry-red lips curl upward, and my own tingle with the urge to crush against hers, to devour her the way I did this morning, the way I’d always fantasized about doing, and to peel her out of that tight dress and feel her bare skin against me.
It’s always been Gemma.
I meant that when I said it.
She may not be the reason why I first wandered into the Cassarella lair, but because of her, I’m trapped forever.
Vince’s icy tone and harsh warning assault my mind once again.
I know what’s at stake.
But she makes it hard to care.
“Your father—" I manage to rasp the one word that is powerful enough to throw a bucket of water on the flames rising inside of me as her hands explore what’s under my jacket. She slides her fingers over my chest, slipping them around my back.
I stiffen as she slips my jacket off of my shoulders.
“I’ve wanted this so badly, Tommy,” she whispers. “For so long, I didn’t understand why you kept pushing me away and I tried hating you for it, but it didn’t work. I’ve dreamt about you…about this…and I know you have, too. I can see it in your eyes every time you look at me. And I felt it today in your kitchen.” Her mouth is hot against my neck, and I have to swallow a yelp when it grazes the skin behind my ear.
One of my spots.
How the fuck did she know that?
She needs to stop! My cock strains against my pants, so hard, it’s ready to bust through the seams. My lips part, but no sounds come out. Yes, I want this. Yes, I’ve dreamt about this. Yes, I’ve whacked off to this exact scene more times than I can count. I think about Gemma twenty-three-and-a-half hours of every day, that last thirty minutes reserved for figuring out how to keep Gio from blowing shit up.
I can’t lie to her.
But I have to.
I’ve already taken things too far.
“Gemma, stop.” I grip her arms and gently push her away so I can see her half-hooded eyes in the thin streams of moonlight shining in from a nearby window. A shocked expression greets me.
“Why?” she asks, her beautiful face a mess of confusion. “You want this. I know you do. I can feel it, Tommy! Are you going to try to tell me you don’t?”
My chest tightens.
“…keep an eye out…something is about to happen…something big…watch over my girls…make sure they’re safe…do your job…”
My job.
My responsibilities.
My fucking life.
Goddammit, the noose around my neck is so tight, I can barely squeeze out a breath.
I inhale sharply and grit my teeth.
“Tell me one thing, Tommy. Did you lie to me that day in the hospital? When you came in to see me after my knee injury and I was doped up on all that morphine…right before I drifted off, you said you loved me. Was it bullshit?” She grabs the sides of my jacket and pulls them close. “I want to know the truth, Tommy. I need to hear it,” she hisses through clenched teeth.
Fuck me.
If she heard me say it, she already knows the truth.
Not that it matters.
I stare into her menacing glare, and even though she’s only a second away from plotting my death, I can’t force myself to look anywhere else. I want to be captivated by those eyes and dragged back under her spell for just a few seconds longer.
So I can remember the exact way I felt right before I broke her heart and my own.
I shake my head. “This can’t happen. Gemma. Not now, not ever.”
Because I can’t afford to be distracted from my job.
And because I need to protect my family from its enemies.
Unfortunately for both of us, she falls into that category.
Gemma lets out a loud gasp, recoiling when my words pierce the air between us, the air that is so thick with lust and tension, I can bite through it. An icy hand clenches my heart and squeezes, but my face remans stoic.
I can’t show her any hint of what I really feel, what I really want but can never have.
She narrows her eyes and smacks me across the face. It stings like a bitch and her rings crack against my jaw, she hits me so hard.
I deserve it…I deserve much worse, actually.
I let her believe there was a flicker of light at the end of a very lonely tunnel, and then I pissed on it.
“I’m sorry,” I say in a tight voice. “I shouldn’t have let you believe I feel something that I don’t.” My gut clenches as the lies tumble from my mouth.
Gemma backs away, shaking her head and muttering some shit about how she wants me dead, skinned alive and torched. Maybe something else about gouging out my eyes.
Yep, she’s definitely her papa’s girl.
That fire is one of the things I love most about her.
“You’re a disgusting piece of shit,” she seethes. “For months, you let me believe you loved me! That you wanted to be with me! But it was all a lie. You toyed with me, pushing me away anytime things got too hot for you to handle, using my age and my father as your pathetic excuses! And then this morning…you…you…argh! I can’t believe I fell for your games!” Her fists fly against my chest. “I fucking hate you!” She shoves me back hard, the unexpected force sending me flying into a rack of coats. “I want you to suffer, Tommy! I want you to feel the same pain that I do right now!”
I crash into the metal, tripping over the hangers falling around me as the rack crashes to the ground. When I finally dig out of the pile and steady myself, I dare look at her one last time.
Her eyes spit malice, her hands are fisted at her sides. Bright pink spots glow in her cheeks, her hair hanging over her shoulders. And her lips…
They lift at the corners in an evil smile, and a chill slithers down my spine when she speaks.