Chapter 15
1799words
I knew it wouldn't shock him, but seeing the look of admiration on his face warms me in ways I can't explain. Meeting ‘normal people' in college made me realize how fucked up my childhood was.
He starts to wrap up my hand. 'What's your range?"
'Dad made sure I could hit a quarter from a hundred yards out before I was even allowed to think about driving."
Zade chuckles to himself as if in on a private joke.
'What's that?"
'Nothing Sapphire, I just think that's impressive."
I eye him warily as he knots the end of the bandage. He doesn't let my hand go, though. Instead, he knits his fingers through mine and traps my hand against the warm, solid muscle of his thigh.
I look down at the hand holding mine. It's tanned, with thick veins running across it like ropes, leading into his wrist and forearm. A platinum signet ring engraved with a V and set with diamonds sits on his ring finger. Unable to resist, I start poking and tracing the veins, loving the firm springy texture and the silky hairy skin.
'Are you trained in physical combat?" He asks in a gravelly voice that tells me he's not unaffected by what I'm doing.
'Krav Maga, brown belt."
'Not bad," he praises. I glance up to catch a playful glint behind the scorching heat in his eyes.
I smile back, loving the thrill his words send down my spine 'What next? You want to know how much I can bench press?"
Arching his brow, he lets his gaze trail slowly over me, leaving fire on my skin. 'Weights? Nah." He shakes his head, his voice dropping an octave lower. 'What I'm curious to know about though, is your squat game. I have to say, Sapphire, it is pretty fucking fantastic from whichever angle you look at it."
It takes me a moment to grasp his meaning. I can't help laughing. 'You are unbelievable, Zade Vitalo."
'And you're sexy as fuck. Come here," Suddenly, he moves me, and the next thing I know, I'm sitting on his lap. And while we're on the subject of strength… just, wow. Fast reflexes too.
I look around self-consciously, although I can't say I'm not enjoying where I am. I feel his steel hard length under my butt and can't resist very subtly grinding against it.
He pulls me against his chest, splaying his hand low on my belly. A quivering begins where he's touching me and spreads lower. His warmth and vetiver scent surround me, weaving their way around my brain. Before I give myself permission, I'm already leaning closer, pushing my nose into his neck.
His groan brings me back to my senses and I catch myself gently grazing my teeth on his earlobe. I'm shocked but don't try to scramble off his lap, I just make my body sit up straighter, wondering what the hell just came over me.
As if sensing I need some distraction, he nods toward the couple by the bonfire. 'So, who are they?"
'That's Fang, the guy who gave up his room for us. Last time I saw him, he'd just earned his patch." I glance at Zade, explaining, 'It's like becoming a made man."
I continue when Zade nods to show that he understands. 'Now Fang's been promoted to the position of road captain—the one who organizes rides and outings."
Zade nods again. 'And the nice lady?"
I chuckle at his sarcasm because the woman in question is currently naked, on her knees, and drenched in spittle while administering what seems to be an impressive blowjob, going by her vigorous head movements and deep-throating skills. 'She's a sweetbutt."
'A what?"
'A hopeful. I'm not sure you have an equivalent term in the Outfit. Club girls, maybe? Anyway, I think, like the others, she may have come from out of town with the aim of leaving her biker crush with something to remember. And given her…efforts, I'd say she has a huge soft spot for Fang. Bless her."
'Yeah, I'd say that certainly is one thing they've got here that we don't have back in Chicago."
I chuckle, 'Zade, you sound really distressed that you don't have Mud Nights in the Outfit."
'It's a fucking crying shame, really," he jokes right back.
'I mean, you're the Don, who knows? Your Capos might thank you for it. And speaking of being Don…"
I feel him tense beneath me. 'What about it?"
'Is there a line you won't cross?"
'What do you mean?"
'You know, like the Reaper Druids have club bylaws. There are things… crimes that bikers aren't allowed to commit." I swallow a lump in my throat, 'For example, drugs."
'Was that why the club wouldn't protect Rafe from going to prison?"
I nod.
Zade unwinds his fingers from mine and places a hand on my thigh. It does not squeeze or work its way higher—it is just… there, like it had been on my neck earlier.
'Fiammetta, if you're trying to find out if I'm redeemable, the answer is no."
Why does this man want me to believe the worst of him when it's clearly not true? I decide to let it go, though.
'Okay," I place my hand on Zade's, the tips of my fingers barely reaching his top knuckles.
Hands and mouth off the client, dumbass, my sensible brain chastises me. But I'm done listening to rational thought. I lean back against him and we both settle into a companionable silence, watching Fang and the sweetbutt and a few others around the bonfire.
Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I'd be observing an orgy taking place in my home with anyone, let alone someone like Zade Vitalo? It's like a baring of my soul. That part of me that I always feared would be repulsive to others who don't understand how things work here.
'You don't really want therapy, do you?" I suddenly ask
Zade shakes his head.
'I guessed as much. And so, have you decided what you want to do after all this is over?" I throw my hands out in a gesture.
What you want to do with me.
'No," he says simply, understanding the unspoken question.
It's harsh but true. I nod, appreciating his honesty. It's grounding to know this night isn't real. He's still the mafia don who thinks the Outfit is better off without a certain therapist. And I'm the idiot who is employing all her physical and intellectual skills to stay alive.
The fact that we enjoy being wrapped around each other is just a pesky complication. Easily remedied, right?
And speaking of complications… I spot Cade out of the corner of my eye, heading right for us, and he definitely isn't wearing his happy face.
I sit up straighter, but Zade's fingers tighten around mine, keeping them laced together on my thigh when my first impulse is to yank my hand away.
Cade's gaze moves back and forth between Zade and me as he stops right in front of us.
'You're making a lot of people uncomfortable, Saph. You know what Phoenix thinks about you getting cozy with anyone out here—never mind an outsider. And Grease… can you at least give the man some respect?"
'Who the fuck is this guy?" Zade mutters. Gently, he lifts me, puts me on the bench right beside him, then stands up to his full height, nose to nose with Cade. They're both of similar height and build.
Ugh. That's all I need; a playground fight in the clubhouse yard.
'Listen here, amico, what Sapphire does with me is none of your business, so I suggest you fuck off. Now." Zade snaps in a tone that says he's used to people listening to him and doing what they're freaking told.
Cade scoffs, 'You're the one who needs to run, Vitalo. How about I give you a twenty-four-hour head start? One day. Start crawling back into the hole you appeared from, or I'm coming after you—"
'For fuck's sake!" Fear for Cade grips me, forcing me to get between the men. I plaster my back against Zade's front, my eyes snapping angrily at Cade. Does he have a fucking death wish, or is his brain clouded by grief?
'Back off, Cade. I'm not stripping and shaking my tits for every club brother passing by. I'm fully fucking clothed here, if you haven't noticed."
'Sapphire, you can't possibly—"
'I can!" I cut him off again. I grab Zade's hand, pulling it around me to splay low on my belly.
Cade's mouth twists in disgust when Zade immediately drags me back against him. Then his other arm comes around me, slowly palming my breast, but it doesn't stop there. It continues trailing up my torso until Zade circles my neck in a light chokehold.
Rage flashes in Cade's eyes. I bet if I turned around, Zade would be smirking.
Oh fuck. I'm not trying to rile up Cade, I just wanted to distract Zade from reacting to whatever Cade's protective old brother shit was making him say.
'You don't want me fucking in the middle of the yard?" I throw my arms out wide, encompassing our surroundings. 'No problem. I'm happy to go fuck somewhere Fang's naked ass isn't part of the backdrop."
I make to leave, knowing Zade will follow me, but Cade grabs hold of my arm. Not painfully—I could jerk myself free. Or at least, I could have, but I don't get the chance.
'Take your hand off her, or I'll break it," Zade says in a tone that's like pure ice, cold and sharp.
Zade doesn't move a muscle, and I think that's about a thousand times scarier than if he'd flown into a murderous rage. The temperature of the air around us seems to plummet, and the menace that's radiating from every pore of his body is terrifying enough to make most men soil themselves.
Lucky me. A standoff between a mafia don and an ex-biker FBI guy who might just get himself killed with the way he's meddling. Who wouldn't want front-row seats to that?
'That's enough," I snap, yanking my arm free of Cade. 'The minute I need you telling me what to do," I say, glaring at Cade, 'or you fighting my battles for me," I turn my glare on Zade, 'I'll be sure to let you know."
I stride across the yard and into the clubhouse, ignoring my surroundings—because I'm sure as hell not in the mood to watch Razor's son, Smokey, doing body shots off the naked girl on the bar.
Ugh. Home sweet fucking home.
