Chapter 7 Episode 7

There is no doubt in my mind that this is a man who takes what he wants, who feeds on the power heholds over others. I shiver as I watch him, and I’m shocked by how turned on I am by him dominatingme like this. I am powerless. And f**k if I’m not getting off on it. The words seem to fly from my lips of their own accord. “I will bend to your will.” His eyes darken and he leans down, slamming his mouth against mine. I moan against his mouth, coreaching for him. Gabe grinds his hips into mine and I cry out from the sheer pleasure of it. My legssqueeze around his waist. Gabe nibbles my lip and his hand goes between us to release himself. I quiver with anticipation, myheart fluttering against my ribs. I need him so bad. I can’t think of anything else I’ve ever needed thismuch—not even oxygen. He pushes my panties to the side and his eyes bore down on mine. He presses inside of me, and I feelmyself stretch to accommodate him. He is big. So big that I groan, and my hands claw at his shirt. His mouth tics once more at the corner. Cocky bastard. I kiss him hard, urging him deeper. Somewhere in the back of my mind, an alarm bell goes off—I’mhaving s*x with a stranger and we’re not even using a condom. I took my pill today, right? Anddefinitely yesterday, too? Gabe bottoms out, and all those thoughts go out the window. He starts to pump in and out, his mouth kissing and sucking the exposed skin of my throat. Pressurebuilds in my core. I scrabble to hang onto him, as though I’m going to float away into the club if Ican’t keep a solid hold, and Gabe rips my hands away and slams them against the table above myhead. This is so beyond anything I’ve ever experienced before. This man owns my body. And I’m lettinghim. I will do anything he asks of me right now as long as, for the love of God, he doesn’t stop. His hips crash into mine in a frenzy. I squeeze my eyes shut and curse, sensation flooding my skin asan orgasm builds deep in my belly. Gabe kisses me again, smothering my cries. His breaths comehard and fast. “Are you going to come, kitten?” he hisses against my mouth. “Yeeeessss!” “Good. Come on my c**k, show me how much you love it.” It starts from the top of my scalp, like icy fingers scraping down my skull. Then it crests like a waveand slams over me. I come so hard that I cry out without meaning to, and my whole body seizes. Stillpinned to the table, I am powerless to do anything other than let my orgasm rip through me. Gabe growls approvingly and slams into me even harder. His breathing is labored, movementserratic. His biceps bulge as he presses me even harder into the table. It is a glorious sight. “f**k!” he cries, burying himself in me one last time. I feel him pulse hard before he collapsesagainst my chest, releasing my hands as he catches his breath. My forehead is sticky with sweat. My legs are shaking. I don’t know whether I should say somethingor not, and the awkward realization of “What now?” hits me like a ton of bricks. Gabe rights himself and turns away from me as he does up his pants and runs a hand through his hair. Iscoot off the table and stick my boobs back in my dress. He draws back the curtain to the rest of the VIP section and looks at me. “You can leave.” His words hit me like a slap in the face, but I don’t show it. “Oh, can I?” I ask, c*****g a brow. “Isthis you dismissing me?” Gabe grabs his jacket from the bench and starts dusting it off. “Yes.” I don’t know what I expected. Did I think I was special? That someone who’d proven himself to be acontrolling jerk all evening was going to suddenly start being nice just because we banged? “Fine with me,” I mutter, snatching the champagne bottle from the ice bucket. “Sayonara, douchebag.” I take a swig from the bottle and strut out of the VIP area with my head held high. He probably expectsme to thank him, maybe kiss his feet on my way, but I’m not about to spend my time kowtowing tosome rich asshole. This is for the best, anyway. The last thing I need in my life is another man. If Grant and my newfriend Gabe have taught me anything, it’s that I’m better off alone. I ditch the champagne bottle on my way out of the club and sail out into the night. The street outside ispulsing with life, and I dodge laughing girls in party dresses and entwined lovers as I pound up thesidewalk. The night air feels like heaven on my flushed skin, but the reprieve is lessened by the pureagony emanating from my feet and the knowledge that it’s going to be a long walk home. With every step, the sass I wore like armor in the club slips away from me, like someone tugging backa silk sheet. Maybe I am better off alone, but why do I have to be? What is it about me that is so easilyrejectable? On any other day, Gabe’s cold dismissal might not have hurt so much, but the further Iwalk, the more it digs into me. I know men like him. I know he’s just an asshole. I know he probably treats everyone in his life likethey’re disposable. But for a second I felt seen, felt wanted. I wasn’t expecting him to fall in lovewith me, but I also didn’t expect him just to toss me away. Just like Grant did. I hug my arms to my chest. Pain splinters through my toes and up my calves and I grit my teeth,shivering as my earlier warmth abandons me. It’s going to be a long walk home indeed. Two years later … I glance up from the papers in my lap and look out the car window, tracing the outline of the distantskyscrapers. I take a breath. The drive from one place to another is the only time I have any peacethese days. The leather back seat of my Mercedes S-Class has become my haven. It is the only place Ido not have to put on a persona, where I can just sit for a minute without somebody needing somethingfrom me. I am on my way to a meeting with Vito and my advisors at my home, where I prefer to conduct allmafia business. Lately, we have had a lot of business. I look back down at the papers just as a boom rips through the air. The car shakes. My head shoots upand I look over my shoulder to find a plume of smoke rising from the direction of the docks. Shit. “David,” I say. My driver’s eyes meet mine in the rear-view mirror. “Yes, sir?” “Take me to the docks. Quickly.” “Yes, sir.” With a squeal of the brakes, the car careens across the road, and I am thrown against the door by theforce of the hairpin turn. Other cars honk at us, but David blatantly ignores them and slams on the gasin the other direction. Whatever that explosion was, it might have nothing to do with me, but I have a bad feeling about it. I pull my Glock 19 from my shoulder holster and call my lieutenant, Antonio Linetti. He and his teamare guarding our territory on the docks—what little there is left of it. Antonio doesn’t answer, whichdoesn’t bode well. David slides to a stop in front of our main warehouse on the docks. Thick black smoke belches upfrom the roof, and men are running this way and that. I do not hear gunshots. One good sign, at least. I leap from the car, holding the gun at my side, and jog into the fray. I round the front of the warehouseand grit my teeth. There are wounded men groaning on the ground outside while others are still beingdragged from the burning building. Inside, red flames crackle and roar as they devour tens ofthousands of dollars’ worth of product. I spy Antonio emerging from the smoke with a man slung over his shoulder. Antonio is massive. Heisn’t quite as tall as me, but he’s built like a brick house, and he removes the body from his shouldersand places it on the ground as though it weighs nothing. “Antonio!” I call. His bald head turns in my direction and he jogs over. “What happened?” I ask. Antonio’s face and head are smeared with soot and sweat. His skin is red from the heat. “Someonerigged a bomb on one of the pallets,” he explains. “It has completely f****d the warehouse. I don’tknow if we can save it.” “Any hostiles?” I ask, looking around. He shakes his head. “Not that we’ve seen so far. Just the bomb, probably on a timer rather than aremote detonator.” “How many casualties?”