“Has your trip got anything to do with the strange noises I heard last night?” The horrendous crying that had scared the absolute crap out of me. “Was someone crying? It sounded like it came from behind the steel door in the kitchen.”
I notice his posture turning rigid and his hands clenching the steering wheel a bit tighter. “Don’t keep my pilot waiting after school. He has somewhere else to be afterwards.”
“Are you going on abusinesstrip?” I emphasize the word, because his sort of business is hush-hush. “Like a dangerous mission that could result in your death?”
Giovanni’s forehead creases at the same time as the Range Rover slows, but we aren’t at school yet. In fact, we haven’t even reached the city.
He steers the car over to the side of the road and stops. With one hand on the wheel and the engine running, he angles his torso, drags his sunglasses off, and stares at me.
Suddenly, I feel vulnerable when he reaches across and pinches a lock of my hair between his thumb and forefingers, gently tucking it behind my ear.
When I unintentionally gulp, his fingers move to my chin, guiding it upwards until our gazes tangle.
“I’m interested to know what that last question means.”
I swallow loudly, unable to fathom how his firm touch gives me a buzz. “You know what it means, Gio.”
“Do I?” he says, raspy and low, the commanding tone of his Spanish accent making my heart race from nervous energy. “Either you’re willing me to die or hoping I return to Blackwater alive… which one is it, niñita?”
His fingertips move to the folded collar of my polo shirt, where they skim the curve of my neck, causing my skin to prickle.
“Why would I want you dead?” I counter. “You might be a cold fish, but you’re the closest thing I have to family.” The second I try to wrench my head away, his fingers move to my throat. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. That’s all. Does that satisfy you, Giovanni?”
He licks his lips, his vivid green eyes never leaving mine. “It does. And for the record,Ido the killing. And you can rest assured I’m no fish. I’m always the hunter,neverthe hunted.”
“Reno was a hunter, and he never came back. So, that’s bullshit,” I whisper, feeling so many emotions that I can’t pin one down to balance myself.
His throat works as he swallows. For a second, I think he’ll strangle me for saying such a thing, but he just stares at me for a racing heartbeat before he lets go and sits back in his seat.
“That particular saying was hammered into me from a young age.” The stormy expression he wears fades, his tense posture relaxing a fraction.
“It’s a Souza thing. All four of us were trained to rule our father’s kingdom, albeit in different ways. I’m the ultimate sniper. The most lethally trained motherfucker you’ll ever sit this close to and not have to fear for your safety. When I show up, men shit themselves. That’s a fact. I’m the danger, not them.”
A subtle dent in his cheek deepens as he offers a rare smile that does sinful things to my raging teenage horniness. Without warning, his large hand settles on my bare knee, his palm slowly tracing a shivery path to the hem of my skirt.
“And if you betray me, our pact will be null and void.”
I bite my lip, feeling my pulse thrum faster. “What would you do to me?”
His featherlight touch turns harsh, his fingertips gripping my thigh, and his mouth dipping to the side of my face. An uncontrollable quake betrays me. I breathe all of him into my lungs—his tummy-flipping scent, his undeniable power, his masculinity. Combined, this man has become my obsession.
“I wouldn’t kill you because Dré would be pissed. My brother already lost one of his best friends. So, I’d have to…” His teeth graze my earlobe, the short hairs on his jaw tickling my cheek. I bite my bottom lip to stave a groan. “… think of elaborate ways to torture you.”
The pads of his fingers travel the length of my inner thigh, stopping an inch away from my lacy panties, now notably damp. His masterful fingers refuse to cross the line, to breach my panties and slip under the fabric. Instead, he traces the seam using one finger and growls from the back of his throat.
“Time for school, niñita. I won’t have you being late.” His speech turns coarse like a tornado of sand, the tone urgent and hinting at his frustration.
The throbbing pulse in my sex is excruciating, his forbidden touch a catalyst for my hunger. Moving my hand lower, I hitch my skirt up and set my fingers on his knuckles.
“Teasing me is torture,” I say breathlessly.
His mouth pauses before mine, our lips not touching, his breath warm. “Precisely.”
“What do I get for being a good girl, then? Hardly seems worth it when…” I lick my lips, expelling little puffs of air. “I don’t get what I want.”
“We are not compatible, you and me. You’ve always been the dutiful little sister who followed Reno’s instructions and played along without any arguments. I know that, and I see what you’re trying to do—or rather, who you’re trying to become. You’re just a lost kid who thinks being naughty will replace the emptiness inside of you. Good girls like you belong in the sunshine… but if you really take a walk on the dark side with me, you might never find your way back.”
When he pulls away, embarrassment flames my face and I struggle to breathe. My thighs clench together for some sort of relief. It doesn’t help. Everything throbs and my pulse is galloping.
