| History

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

Every male instinct inside me raged, rumbling with the need to hear her scream my name, to feel her walls tighten around me while I gave her the most powerful orgasm she had ever had in her entire life. Giving this woman pleasure had now become my only goal. I wanted to pound multiple goddamn releases into her while the sound of my name on her lips rang through my ears like a fucking cheerleading song. 

    I wrapped my other arm around her waist and jerked her harder against me, letting her feel how hard I was for her. "If I'm correct, there's a rule somewhere in the Criminal Mafia Handbook for Dummies that says you're not allowed to fraternize with cops." 

    The seductive smile that spread across her face made my cock twitch. 

    "I already told you, I have no idea about this mafia thing you're talking about, Detective." 

    I moved closer and put my lips against the side of her cheek, and I was pretty sure I felt her shiver. "Oh, that's right," I started. "You're innocent, aren't you, Miss Bologna?" 

    "Well, I don't know about innocent. But let's assume you're right, and the Criminal Mafia Handbook for Dummies does apply to me." Her hand was on my hip, and I swore to God it felt like my skin burst into fucking flames. Her other hand moved slowly up my arm, and she weaved her fingers through my hair, pulling my lips closer to hers. "What makes you think I give a fuck about rules?"  

    Well, that does it, then. I wanted this woman, and I wanted her now. I wanted her under me, on me, in front of me, and I wanted to be inside her in every way humanly fucking possible—pun intended. To have this woman's pleasure gushing down my thighs was my life's new mission. Fuck the job, fuck the mafia, and fuck every goddamn rule that said I wasn't allowed to bury myself so deep inside this woman that there would be no way to determine where she began and I ended. 

    Just as I was about to claim her lips, preparing to taste her, wanting to ravish that seductive mouth of hers, she glanced over my shoulder and cursed. "Shit." 

    Ah, fuck. Really? This close. I was this fucking close. 

    Wanting to know what in the name of God-Almighty just interrupted what was probably going to be the best kiss of my entire fucking life, I turned around and immediately saw what Vanessa cussing in my ear—or rather, whom. 

    "The Morelloes." The name left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. I stared at the two brothers walking into the club like they owned the place, straightening the lapels of their grey suits. There were two guys behind them, which I presumed were part of their entourage of muscle and ammo.  

    For a second, I glanced up at the Bologna brothers. Both of them were standing against the rail glaring down toward the entrance with a few other brutes behind them. It was like the mighty stare-off between good and evil, Heaven and Hell. The only problem was, that I had no idea who the good guys and bad guys were in this equation. But something told me there was a tad more evil lurking behind the Morellos, especially the older brother, Enzo. With his dark hair tied at the back of his neck, and that disgusting smirk that always seemed to be plastered on his arrogant face, Enzo Morello was one class-A son of a bitch douchebag. His younger brother, Matteo, was nothing more than a fucking sidekick. What big bro did, little bro did. Matteo always lurked in the shadow of his big brother, trying to be a badass. Meanwhile, he was nothing but a pussy pretending to be a cock in a big man's world. 

    I noticed Enzo was staring straight at Vanessa, and Vanessa was looking back at him. It would take a really special kind of idiot to not have detected the tension between the two of them. The only difference was Enzo had this creepy, victorious smirk on his face, while Vanessa seemed like she was going to throw up. 

    I brushed my hand against her elbow. "You okay?" 

    "I'm fine." She straightened and took a deep breath before turning and looking up at her brothers. 

    I leaned closer. "So, on a scale from one to ten, how much shit is about to go down?" 

    When she looked back at me, nothing was reassuring in her expression. She looked pretty grim. 

    She glanced at Enzo. "I'd say you should get a bigger scale." 

    Well, shit.

*****

𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀

    Enzo Morello. If the devil had a face, it would be Enzo's. From the long list of reasons I never wanted to come home, Enzo was right up there at the top. For the last four years, I'd successfully managed to avoid any run-ins with him—until now. 

    The moment our eyes met, I felt the ice spreading through my veins like venom. For a second, I was transported back four years to the night Enzo Morello showed me his true colours—the night I willingly gave him the best of me. In the end, he turned it into something ugly, wicked, and broken. And the conceited smirk currently slapped on his face was proof enough that he was thinking of it too. 

    Just a few seconds ago, I was consumed with the need to give in to the temptation that was Detective James Gunner. Now all I wanted to do was run, to get out of here as fast as humanly possible. But that wasn't going to happen, since Enzo and his brother were walking toward us.  

    "Shit, shit, shit." I started to panic. 

    James grabbed my elbow and turned me toward him. "Mind telling me what's going on?"  

    "Um, let's just say there's this…how can I put it?" 

    "History?" 

    I cringed since James hit it right on the button. "Yeah, a history between me—" 

    "And Morello?"