Filthy: A Bad Boy Romance (12 page)

“Another half hour?” I suggest.

He smiles a little. I can tell he’s still wondering what the fuck is up with me. But he says, “Sure,” and we go at it again.

#

Finally, fresh out of the shower, aching in all the good ways everywhere in my body, I head out of the gym, giving Paul a wave and a one-armed bro hug on the way. Fleetingly I wonder if I’ll ever see him again after that final fight.

But that’s a pointless thought. Whatever happens will happen, and I’ve finally made a decision. I’ll take Jess up on her deal. If nothing else, I’ll enjoy the last few weeks of my life before her father has his goons beat me to death. Or before I have to go so far underground even Jess won’t be able to find me. It’s not a pleasant thought.

Outside I notice right away that things aren’t right. My car’s right where I left it, but there’s a guy in a dark suit leaning against the driver’s side door. As I head out the door, another couple of suits pace me, one on either side, falling back just a bit so I can’t quite see them. I go immediately on guard. These fuckers really want to tangle with me in the parking lot? I’ll make them regret it.

“McAllister. Nice afternoon, huh?”

Well, shit. It’s Romano. I cut him a glance out of the corner of my eye. Fucker still has a black eye, which gives me a bit of satisfaction. I wish I’d knocked a couple of teeth out. That’s something he would have remembered for a while.

“Yes, it’s quite lovely.” I give him an arch, mocking tone. “Any plans?” And then, before I can stop myself, “Maybe getting together with that fiancée of yours?” I smirk at him.

The sneer fades from Romano’s face, turning to an audible growl, his eyes burning. “Thought we talked about this, Cain. You stay away from her.”

I keep walking toward my car. I’m not going to let him get to me. I have no use for this pile of shit. “That’s up to her, isn’t it, Romano?”

“I said you keep your hands off her, you piece of shit. She’s mine. Spada promised me that. I don’t care what kind of kiss-ass bullshit you’ve pulled to keep yourself right with him, you cross me again and I’ll kill you.”

I stop and turn to face him. I’m all too aware of the other two suits, one behind me at my car, the other flanking Romano. “You and what fucking army?”

“Same army that took care of you last night. This time I’ll be sure they finish the job.”

My eyes narrow, and I take him in. “Because you can’t do it by yourself.” He’s such a fucking waste. Not fit to lick Jessica’s shoes. “Why do you even want her, Carmine? Do you love her? Do you even care jack shit about her?”

He shrugs. “What difference does that make?”

“Makes a lot of difference, the way I see it. You really want to marry a woman who hates you? Who wishes you were somebody else every time you fuck her?”

He takes a taut step forward, one fist clenched around the gun at his waist. “One more word and I’ll kill you.”

Kill your boss’s cash cow? I don’t think so.

“I’m Spada’s second. You know that. I marry Jessica, I take over the family down the road. That’s the plan. It’s always been the plan.” His fist loosens, and that smirk comes back, though maybe a little less convincing than it was. “You’re not part of that plan. You never have been. You’re just a dog in a fighting ring.”

That’s so true I don’t even bother to argue it. But the way he talks about Jess has my hackles up. He doesn’t give a shit about her beyond what marrying her means for his position in the family. She’ll just make him a higher level of scumbag. A higher-ranked crime lord. She means nothing else to him.

I suddenly want to pummel him into a bloody pile. He doesn’t deserve her. Hell, I don’t deserve her either, but at least I care about her.

Wait. Do I? Maybe, maybe not. But I’d be better for her than Romano. I wouldn’t hurt her, that’s for damn sure. I take a step forward, and I can feel every muscle in my body tensing for a fight.

But I have no idea what I’m going to do, and I won’t find out, because just then a black-and-white moves into view on the street outside the gym. He’s going slow, and I can see him watching out the window. The cops like to watch. Not much else they can do; Spada’s got this town tied up in a bow with his name on it. But if we do anything right in front of them, they’ll take advantage of it. Throw their weight around a little. No point giving them the chance.

So I step back and give Romano a polite nod. “You have a nice day, Mr. Romano.”

The guy standing next to my car cuts a glance at the cop moving by and steps back from the door so I can get in. I start the car and leave them behind me.

#

There’s a local coffee shop not far from the Spadas’ place. I know Jess likes to go there. Some of the other guys at the gym used to joke about how she goes there to read, stuck to her e-reader like it’s her boyfriend or something. I wonder now if she was studying rather than just reading. I figure that’s a fair guess.

I head for the coffee shop, pretty sure she’ll be there. If she’s not, I’ll have to hunt her up some other way. But as I pull into the parking spot I can see her inside, on a chair near the window, coffee cup in one hand and e-reader in the other.

I sit in the car for a few seconds, just looking at her. She’s so fucking beautiful. Am I doing the right thing? Will this really keep her safe? Will it keep
me
safe? Then I realize I’m not nearly as concerned about myself as I am about her. That’s not the way I usually operate. What is it about her, anyway?

Clenching my teeth, I get out of the car. Time to man up and go ahead with this plan. I’m still not convinced it’s going to help me when the shit hits the fan, but I think there’s a good chance it’ll help her get away from that piece of shit Romano. Not to mention her father. And if my own plan goes the way I want it to—well, we’ll both be in good shape.

She glances up as I open the door, as if she looks up every time someone walks into the place. But when she catches sight of me she slowly lowers the e-reader to the table. Her eyes are wide.

I come to sit down across from her at the table.

“Cain,” she says, her voice quiet, as if she’s afraid someone will hear her. “Why are you here?”

“Let’s do it.” No point delaying the inevitable.

“Do…” Then it hits her what I mean. I reach over and take the hand that was holding the e-reader and fold my fingers around it. It’s warm and small, with fine bones. If I squeeze too hard, I could break it. “You mean…”

I nod. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m dead if I keep doing what I’m doing. And the thought of you with that asshole Romano…” I shake my head. I can’t even find the right words to describe how I feel about Carmine Romano. “So…let’s do it.”

Somewhat to my surprise, she doesn’t look happy. I figured she’d be ecstatic that I’m ready to go through with her plan. But she looks more worried than anything else. Her other hand comes across the table and closes over mine. “Are you sure?”

I nod. “Yeah. I thought about it. It makes sense. I mean…we have to at least try, right? Otherwise we’re both…” I stop, not sure what the right words are. “We’re both fucked,” I finally finish. Inelegant, but accurate.

She smiles. “Yeah. Pretty much.” One of her eyes glistens and I realize there’s a tear hanging there in the corner of it. It doesn’t fall.

“We do it my way, though,” I go on. “You do what I tell you to, and it’ll work out. You decide to change the plan, and we’ll have a problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just trust me.” I don’t want her fucking up my plans for the next fight. I don’t want to tell her about it either. She’s just going to have to follow my lead, and I’m going to have to hope she doesn’t fuck anything up. I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t approve if I told her what I was planning.

She seems to roll that around in her head for a while before she finally nods. “Okay.” Her voice is a little shaky, although I can tell she’s trying to keep it under control. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

#

If she was after a romantic wedding with roses and bridesmaids and a pretty cake with a dove on top, she’s going to be sorely disappointed. But she doesn’t say a thing as we head to the county clerk’s office and ask for a marriage license. We go through the formalities as the clerk checks our IDs, fills out the forms, shows us both where to sign.

She signs “Jessica” then pauses. I know she’s just realized she needs to decide whether to write “Spada” or “McAllister.” I can’t help grinning a little when she finally drags the pen up to make the first line of an “M.” Jessica McAllister. I like the sound of that. I hope she does, too.

I have to write them a check for the license, then another one to pay for a civil ceremony. I feel a little guilty about it—maybe I’ll just spring for a nicer ceremony later. She’d probably appreciate that.

Why do you care? This is an arrangement, not a love match.
But I do care, for whatever reason. For the moment, though, I push the feeling back.

We don’t have rings. It doesn’t really matter for the ceremony, but the clerk who runs us through the vows seems a little taken aback. Whatever. It’s none of his fucking business. And when it’s done, I grab Jess and kiss her like I’ve never kissed her before, claiming her mouth, stroking her tongue with mine until the clerk clears her throat and says, “I’m sorry, but I have some other business. I’ll leave you here to…”

When I pull back from Jess, the clerk is making a vague gesture, and I almost laugh. I feel strangely light, like I’ve just won the fucking lottery or something. Do I really believe this is going to keep Spada off my ass? Do I really believe he’s not going to straight-up murder me when he finds out?

I’m not sure. At the moment, I don’t care. Because it’s just hit me.

She’s mine. All of her.
Forever
. No matter what her father thinks, there’s not a goddamn thing he can do about it, because my name is next to hers on a piece of paper at the county clerk’s office.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so horny in my life as I am at that moment. My dick feels like it might explode if I don’t get it inside her right this second.

I grab her by the arm and pull her toward the door. “Let’s go, honey. Don’t want to offend the public servant, here.”

Jess seems unimpressed by my attempt at humor. “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere,” I answer in a low voice, almost growling. “Anywhere but here.”

She stops for a split second and then does a double step to catch up. “Cain? What are you doing?”

I swing her out through the door and scope out the doors that open onto the hallway. “Getting you somewhere I can fuck the shit out of you.”

She tugs at my hand, a look of mild alarm taking over her face. “Cain, seriously? Here?”

I pull her close, pressing my mouth against her ear. “I can’t wait another second, Jess. You’re my wife now. I want to make you my wife for real.”

“That’s what signing the marriage license was for.”

“I want to fuck you right here, right now, until you scream so loud somebody calls 9-1-1.”

“That seems like a really bad idea.” But she’s not pulling at my hand quite so hard anymore, and I can tell by the way her cheeks are pinking up that she’s totally on board with this plan.

In the meantime I’m not sure how I manage to use any of my brain cells long enough to formulate the plan, since all my blood has rushed to my dick. But I check the doors in the hallway until I find one that’s unlocked. I push the door open. Behind it is an empty office. I lead Jess in then close the door and lock it behind us.

“You’re nuts,” Jess says, but the corners of her lips are curling up.

I pick her up and sit her down on the desk, pressing my mouth against her ear again. “Going to fuck you so hard. You’ll never forget you’re mine, ’cause you’ll never get that taste out of the back of your throat.”

She shivers, her arms draping over my shoulders. “I don’t think we should do this. What if somebody hears us? Could we get arrested?”

I laugh, mostly because her body language is so much the opposite of what’s coming out of her mouth. She’s wrapping her legs around me, and I can feel her hot cunt right through her clothes. “Don’t know, don’t care,” I tell her, and kiss her hard before she can ask any more questions.

With her on the desk and me between her thighs, I can pretty much do what I want to her. So I flip her skirt up and, surprise surprise, she’s not wearing any underwear.

“Naughty girl.”

Pulling in a growl, I shove my hand into all that heat, knuckles sliding just inside her. She’s so wet I could probably fist her if I wanted to.

I don’t want to. Not this time. I shove three fingers inside her, wondering exactly how long I can hold out before I come in my pants. That wouldn’t be ideal, although I’m sure I wouldn’t be the first guy to suffer from premature ejaculation on his wedding night. Afternoon. Whatever.

“You know…” Jess is trying to talk to me, but her voice is shivery and muffled while I play with her pussy. “…We don’t have to do this now. We’ve got plenty of time—”

I break her off with another hard kiss. “I want you
now
. We need to seal the deal so there’s no chance of an annulment.” I pause and grin at her. “But mostly I just want to fuck you.”

That seems to placate her. Not that she needs much placating. She’s never said no to me—I doubt she ever will. She’s a hot little minx who obviously loves my cock. And that’s more than okay with me.

My fingers curl inside her and she makes a sharp, helpless sound and grasps at my shoulders. God, I want in there so bad. But instead I go to my knees between her legs, because right now tasting her seems to be about as good an idea as fucking her. Maybe better.

I push my tongue inside her, taking in all that sour-bitter-salty wetness, licking it over the glass-smooth flesh of her inner lips. Some dumb book I read one time said women taste like honey, but they don’t. They taste like sex and woman, and that’s better than honey any day, in my book.

She’s squirming before I’ve hardly gotten started, and she pulls my hair as if she wants me out from between her thighs. Which is, of course, a silly idea. “Cain…”

“Yes, hon?” I say archly, pulling back just a little. I rub at her with my nose, and I think I manage to hit her clit.