Aria’s eyes flitted to my lips. I put my glass back down on the table and leaned closer, touching her waist. “Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you.”
Aria opened her mouth, but she didn’t say anything. Slowly, I leaned forward, giving her time to pull back, but she didn’t. I kissed her, forcing myself to go slow, but soon our kiss became more heated. It was a struggle to keep my hand on her waist and not explore the rest of her body. I pushed my thumb under her shirt and rubbed her bare skin. Aria moaned softly into my mouth. I wasn’t sure if she even noticed. I guided her back gently until she was stretched out on the lounge and I was half bent over her.
Aria tasted so fucking sweet as my tongue claimed her mouth. I could tell she was growing more and more aroused by the way she rubbed her thighs together.
I raised my head to gaze at her flushed face.
“I could make you feel good, Aria,” I said, my fingers twitching eagerly on her hip, wanting to head south. “You want to come, don’t you?”
Conflict danced in Aria’s eyes, but then a determined glint took over. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
My stomach twitched with suppressed laughter. “You are so stubborn.” I knew she was wet. The way she’d pressed herself into me, the way she’d moaned…Fuck.
I claimed her lips once more, my tongue teasing hers as I wanted to do with her pussy, my finger rubbing circles right above her waistband, knowing she’d feel it between her legs too, but Aria stayed true to her words, even as she panted and moaned and shivered under my kiss. Eventually I had to stop, because my dick was so fucking hard in my pants, it got too uncomfortable.
Aria blinked up at me dazedly.
“We’d better stop now,” I groaned. “My pants are getting tight.”
Aria looked smug and embarrassed at the same time. I chuckled, pressed another kiss to her mouth, then pushed to my feet and pulled Aria with me. She held on to my hand for once, surprising me, and fuck if that didn’t feel like a major victory. It was even worth the blue balls I suffered through all night as Aria slept in my arms.CHAPTER 12My phone buzzed on the nightstand, startling me awake. I carefully untangled Aria from me and she rolled over. Grabbing the phone, I stood. It was Cesare. I quickly took the call.
“What’s the matter?”
“The Bratva chopped up one of our chemists and spread his remains around the Sphere.”
“Is someone taking care of it?”
“The cleaning squad is already there.”
“All right, I’ll be there as quickly as I can. Did you call Matteo already?”
“No.”
“I’ll do it then.”
I called my brother, agreeing to meet in fifteen minutes before I returned to the bedroom and quickly picked out clothes and grabbed my guns.
When I was dressed, I headed into the hallway once more, telling Romero that he needed to come over sooner, then I went into the bedroom to wake Aria.
But she was already sitting up. “Are you leaving already?”
She actually looked disappointed. “The Bratva got one of ours. They left him in tiny pieces around one of our clubs.”
“Somebody I know?” Aria asked. “Will the police get involved?”
I went over to her. She looked adorable with her tousled blond hair. “Not if I can help it,” I murmured, cupping her face. “I’ll try to be home early, okay?”
Aria gave a small nod and I dipped my head down to kiss her. She didn’t flinch or draw back when our lips touched. Instead, she parted for me. I took her up on the invitation, eagerly deepening the kiss, but eventually duty called. I pulled back and left quickly.The Bratva had graffitied their fucking Kalashinikovs onto the entrance of the Sphere, and the dead chemist wasn’t the only one they’d killed. One of our most successful dealers had also been dismembered and left in his backyard with the same goddamn graffiti on his house front.
“Fucking Russians,” Matteo muttered.
“It’s another warning. They want their drugs back,” Cesare said with a frown.
A group of Famiglia soldiers had stolen the Russian’s last drug delivery in retribution for their attack on one of our drug labs.
“We need to send them a response,” Matteo said.
The Famiglia cleaning squad, a group of initiates mostly, tried to remove the Kalashnikov graffiti. They’d already got rid of the blood stains on the walls and pavements, but the graffiti was harder to wash off.
I called my father again, hating that I needed to get his okay for possible actions. He picked up after ten rings, as usual making me wait. “I’m busy.”
Not with business, that was clear. “We need to send the Bratva a clear warning. They’re becoming too daring.”
Father was silent. His disinterest in the Russians would cost us everything at some point. “I’ll call Fiore.”