I bite the inside of my cheek. Yeah, the second Nonna finds out what I’m doing, she’s going to pray for me and probably put garlic by my front door.
No—wait. Garlic is vampires. It’s salt for demons. Isn’t it?
Hmm. I wonder if that’ll keep Nonna away from me…
He does have a point though. Aside from Nonna and the epic meltdown she’s guaranteed to have, Holly Woods is primarily a Catholic town. When most people think of foreigners in Texas, they immediately think about Mexicans. No one really considers Europeans—and there are plenty.
Hell, Holly Woods was founded by Europeans. Until the immigrants made their way to the Promised Land of freedom and prosperity and all of that shit, Holly Woods was a mass of land owned by everyone and no one. It was no man’s land, just kind of existing. Now, of course, there are no original founders living, but we’re all descendants. Even Nonna. That’s how the Bonds ended up here.
Well, that’s how the Bonds got a good dose of feisty Italian blood in their heritage, at least. Nonna’s father went back to Italy to marry her mom and stayed, just for Nonna and Nonno to move back here all those years ago.
I don’t understand the ping-pong moving-across-the-world thing, but whatever.
The point is, when Holly Woods was taken over by a good deal of Europeans, most of them were Catholic, thus Catholicism becoming the religion of the town, so to speak. While there are a good deal of non-Catholics here now, there’s only one church.
But, whether you’re Catholic or Christian, Satan is never good. Least of all satanic, apparently ritualistic killings right on your doorstep.
Holly Woods PD has a point about keeping that little gem private for as long as possible. Personally, I’m afraid the elderly may stage a protest at the bingo hall and pray for the murderer’s sins while they wave their Bibles.
Nothing is to be underestimated, especially if Nonna leads it. And she would. There’s no doubt about it.
Drake walks past me with a heavy sigh when I don’t respond. Honestly, I have no idea how to respond to his worries. It’s not that I don’t understand them, because I do. I may feel they’re slightly misplaced, given that I’m more than capable of protecting myself, but I simply don’t know how to deal with them.
Big-brother protectiveness? I get it. Fatherly protectiveness? Sure. Relationship protectiveness?
Working on it.
I’m trying. I am. God, I’m trying so fucking hard to give up a small bit of my independence, but it’s real hard when, in one breath, he tells me that I’m perfect the way I am but, in the next, wants to wrap me in cotton wool and keep me safe.
I guess this is why you don’t usually put dominant personalities together in a relationship. We clash on everything.
I follow him upstairs and hesitate by his bedroom door. He’s changing, and I watch as he pulls a freshly pressed white shirt from a hanger in his closet. The muscles in his back flex and ripple as he moves to put it on.
“I have to question Jessica this morning. She was too shaken to speak to anyone last night.” He turns to look at me, his fingers moving nimbly across the buttons, securing them. Of course he knew I was here.
“Okay.” I walk through the room into his en suite and grab my toothbrush. I steal his toothpaste and vigorously brush my teeth.
“Okay?” He appears in the doorway. “That’s all you’re gonna say? No glare or threat of bodily harm toward her?”
I shrug, my toothbrush still in my mouth. I spit the froth out. “What am I supposed to say? You’re going to be in an interview room with a camera and a tape recorder. Not even she’s that dumb, contrary to what she wants people to believe.”
“Again: No threat of bodily harm?”
“Fine!” I drop my toothbrush back into the frosted-glass holder and wipe some toothpaste from the corner of my mouth. Then I meet his eyes in the mirror. “If she tries anything, I will find out and I will hurt her. All right?”
His lips twitch. “Hurt her? You’re not exactly all there this morning, are you?”
“Well, I’m sorry, but when I woke up this morning, I was anticipating some stress-relieving sex, not a fucking contract to find yet another damn murderer.”
Drake’s eyebrows shoot up. “Sex? Why didn’t you say so?”
I bat his hand away and walk into the room. “Because you were too busy grunting and manhandling me like Fred Flintstone with your secret knowledge to even register that I tried to get my hands on your junk before you rolled out of bed with the finesse of a boulder!”
“You should have grabbed it harder.”
I put my hands on my hips and meet his eyes. “Short of handcuffing you to your bed and putting your cock in my mouth, I couldn’t have been more obvious.”
Seriously. And it’s not even like he didn’t wake up with an erection. Trust me. I know when he has an erection. The thing pokes into me and continues to do so until I give it the necessary attention.
Drake catches my hands and pulls me into him. Then he drops his head for a kiss. His lips touch mine roughly, and he bites down on my bottom lip. Lust shoots through my body, and I lock my knees before they buckle. I’m not so good at hiding the moan that escapes.
“I apologize profusely for ignoring you while you grabbed my cock this morning,” he mutters, diving his hand into my hair and pulling my head back. His other hand flattens across my lower back, his fingers splaying to hold me in place against him. “And if we didn’t have to go to work for real right now, I’d show you just how sorry I am.” His lips are like fire as they lick, nip, and suck their way down my neck. “So I owe you.”
“You owe me, huh?” I raise my eyebrows, ignoring the way my clit is aching.
He pulls back and looks into my eyes, the normal icy blue shadowed with desire. Desire I can feel pushing against my lower stomach. Desire my clit wants rubbing against it. I clench so I don’t try to climb him like a tree just to get rid of this awful throbbing sensation.
“I owe you. And you can collect any time.” He kisses me again, deeper this time, his tongue stroking mine.
Desperation explodes between my legs.
Mayday. Mayday.
Houston, we have a problem. The problem being that this isn’t fucking lift off.
“Can I collect now?” I croak, clamping my thighs together.
He smirks that smug, little upturn of his lips, and goddammit, I can’t decide if I want to slap it, kiss it, or sit on it.
As if he knows what I’m thinking, he licks his lips.
Not helping.
Where’s that minion with the fire alarm when you need it?
I need it.
Beedaw. Beedaw. Beedaw. There’s a fire down below. I need an extinguisher for my vagina, please.
“I hate you, you rotten bastard,” I hiss, smacking his chest with my hands and shoving him away from me.
He laughs and whips a black tie from a hanger. I grab my cell from the nightstand and make the mistake of looking up when he clears his throat.
He’s running the tie through his fingers, a half grin on his face. One that reeks of smugness.
Fucker knows exactly what he’s doing.
I pull my clean clothes from my bag and, looking him straight in the eye, strip down to my underwear. He stills, his smile dropping as I unclip my bra and step out of my panties. I take the new pink thong I bought last week, straighten the side strings, and slowly ease it up my legs.
Drake’s eyes darken until they don’t even resemble their original color, and shivers run through me at the heavy dose of lust sizzling in the air between us.
Oh, Victoria. Looks like I discovered your secret.
And I packed its matching bra. Excellent.
I put it on, adjust my boobs, then get dressed in the pencil skirt and the blouse I packed. He approaches me as I do up the top button. His tie is hanging loose around his neck, and ignoring the steady yet fast beat of my heart, I grab either side of the tie and knot it.