Fallon & Luca Page 6
The doorbell rings right on time, and I buzz Luca in. Pitching my phone into my purse, I check myself one final time as Luca knocks softly. When I open the door, my mouth almost hits the ground taking in the sight of him. Funnily enough, we match in dark blue. He’s wearing a navy suit with a white dress shirt, sans tie, that shows off his muscular physique. I shamelessly inspect him from top to bottom. As I look back up, our eyes meet, and I discover that he was doing the same. His hair is neatly combed back, but some strands won’t stay in place, and I’m ecstatic that he didn’t shave but only trimmed his beard. He gazes at me for a moment longer while I timidly stand there for a second before inviting him in.
Luca steps closer to me and bends his head to give me a kiss on my cheek, and the corners of our mouths touch.
“You look exquisite, Fallon.”
His lips are touching mine but not kissing me, which feels strangely more intimate than an actual kiss. The heat of his lips ignites my cheeks and, as usual, his scent awakens my senses – citrus and clean air and all Luca.
“Thank you.”
I move my head slightly toward him so that our lips brush against each other. And I feel Luca smile against my mouth before walking in. It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts and close the door.
He stands confidently in the living room. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes.” I’m sure my skin must be flushed from the thoughts roaring through my mind.
Luca takes my coat off the back of the kitchen chair and holds it out for me, so I tuck my arms in and clasp the buttons. Then he tenderly releases my trapped hair from under my coat and caresses a few strands before letting it fall back over one shoulder.
“Shall we go?” He opens the door for me.
“Yes, let’s go.”
Once outside, I’m stunned by the sight of Luca’s sleek, black car when he clicks the device that unlocks it before we get into the immaculate vehicle.
“Where are you taking me, Luca?” I watch him easily maneuver through traffic.
A smile tugs at his lips. “It’s a surprise.”
“As long as there’s food, I’ll be happy.”
His gaze stays focused on the road. “So easy to please, Fallon.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Depends on the situation,” he counters suggestively.
I frown and shake my head, and then I watch the city go by while we drive in peaceful silence until arriving at a high rise. Luca hands his keys to the valet and comes over to open my door, of course.
I take in the superb sight as we careen through a crowded lobby with a burlesque-style décor toward the elevator. When I greet a man who’s disrupted my line of vision, Luca places his hand possessively on the small of my back, so I tilt my head and raise a brow. But he simply responds with a guiltless grin.
The elevator takes us to a restaurant on the eightieth floor with the most spectacular view of Chicago. And I realize I’ve never heard of this place. Not that I know all the restaurants around here, but I would think that a high-class establishment with this view would be more popular. Yet there are only a few tables, maybe ten.
The hostess, an Italian beauty, welcomes us, “Mr. DeMiliano, your table is ready.”
She takes my coat, and I follow her through the entirely carpeted restaurant, the floor and walls adorned in deep red and gold velvet carpet, providing it a distinguished look. As Luca treads behind me, I melodramatically mouth Mr. DeMiliano over my shoulder and wink at him.
He motions with his forefinger for me to turn around and keep walking while he wears an amused expression.
She seats us at the floor-to-ceiling window, and Luca discusses something with her before claiming his chair. “Do you like red wine?”
“Yes, I do,” I say, and I’m sure I must be practically gawking at the man across from me who exudes confidence and strength in every pose.
A waitress hands me a menu while she explains that it’s fusion cuisine, French and Italian, then she leaves us alone.
Luca looks at me expectantly. “Do you want to order from the menu, or should I ask the chef to make us small samples?”
“You had me at small samples.”
He momentarily glances at the bar, and I’m amazed when the waitress is at our table within seconds with our drinks, and Luca gives our order.
In the meantime, I scrutinize my surroundings. Four other tables are occupied by couples. Two men who promptly look away from us are seated at one table, and the man who sits facing me continues talking to his companion, but there’s a slight shift in their posture. They have a threatening presence.
“Fallon...Fallon,” Luca distracts me, so I turn back to him. “What’s wrong?” His gaze drifts over my shoulder and then immediately back to me.
“You know those men?” I ask.
“I’ve seen them here before. I think they’re also regulars.”
I relax. “Oh, okay, I think they recognized you too.”
“I do come here often.”
“It’s a beautiful restaurant. I’ve never heard of it.”
“It caters to just a few clients.”
“Really? And Mr. DeMiliano is one of those clients,” I tease him.
“Fallon.” He shakes his head slowly, entertained, and tells me around a flirtatious grin, “Stop saying my last name constantly. You have no idea what it does to me.”
I can guess what it does. “It’s a sexy name.” I lift my brows a few times in quick succession.
He laughs as we both raise our glasses. “To a wonderful evening.”
“To a wonderful evening, Mr.—Luca.”
Throughout dinner, we’re relaxed. He feeds me some of his favorite foods, and I have to admit that he has excellent taste. I’ve eaten the most delectable appetizers: prosciutto with olive and oranges, mushroom tuna, and lobster salad on endive spears. Dessert is a dark chocolate cake. Best. Dessert. Ever.
When we leave the restaurant, Luca shows me the artwork in the lobby, but my mind is somewhere else. During the car ride home, I check my phone and roll my eyes. There are two messages from Teagan asking if I’ve already gotten laid.
Luca’s lost in thought until his phone rings, and he silences it without reading the caller ID. Then he pleasantly surprises me by resting my hand on his thigh, absentmindedly stroking my fingers while he drives me to the condo and escorts me up to the entrance.
“Coming up with me?” I ask reservedly, and I’m a little hurt when he seems to consider my offer instead of answering right away.
But luckily, Luca grabs my keys out of my hands. “Yes, I’d love to come up.” And he unlocks the door.
Inside my apartment, Luca removes my coat and his jacket to hang them on the solid wood coat rack before he walks over to the window and peers down at the street, commenting pensively, “In the middle of all the action.”
“Apparently...It is always busy in this neighborhood.” I casually lean against the wall connecting to the open kitchen and try to act nonchalant. Nonetheless, when his stare pins me to the spot, I feel heated under his scrutiny as the air thickens. “Do you want wine or something else to drink?”
“Not really, Fallon.” Luca saunters over to me, licking his lips while his look is full of lust and fire, eyeing me with a lazy, confident smile that holds no promises and yet all the promises in the world.
I push off the wall, drawn to him, and he catches me when I sink into his arms. His hands palm my neck and hip aggressively as his lips capture mine, and our mouths open instantaneously, our tongues tangling together. Luca’s taste of wine has me moaning into his mouth, and passion flares wildly in my lower stomach from his sensuous, skillful kisses which are tender yet rough. He groans as his fingers dig into my ass, lifting me to him. And I stand on my toes when he molds me against his body. Every part of us is tightly pressed together as we hungrily devour each other, and the tips of his fingers stroke the bare skin of my thighs under the hem of my dress. I feel his arousal growing agains
t the soft flesh of my stomach and let my fingers weave into his silky strands of hair. He sighs in appreciation and bites my lower lip, then traces his tongue smoothly over his bite mark, never breaking eye contact.
We’re both panting as he forces me backward and we fall onto the couch, our mouths never separating. Every time I think Luca will end the kiss, he explores me more deeply. In turn, I grind my hips against his arousal and hurriedly tug his shirt out of his pants as he lifts himself slightly off me to help. Our movements are equally frantic, and I bury my hands under his shirt to trace his abs, sides, and back. His hot skin is smooth to the touch, and I feel him shudder under my caress when I dig my nails gently into his back. Then Luca growls while pushing his hardening erection between my legs.
“I’ve wanted to taste you for a long time,” he admits and unties the knot of my halter at my neck.
He guides me to sit up as he kneels on the floor between my thighs and rearranges my hair tenderly over one shoulder while he grazes his teeth over my flushed skin. His hands roam over my lower body, bunching my dress in his palms, bringing it over my head as I lift my arms, and throwing it behind me. I’m greeted with an appreciative smirk when he notices that I’m not wearing a bra. Forcefully, Luca cups my breasts while nipping the tender spot where my shoulder and neck meet, and he yanks off my panties in one fluid motion. I smile up at him sweetly as the air hits my naked skin while I sit before him in only black stockings with embroidered lace at the top and my sandals.
Luca stills, just staring at me for an endless minute. But then he shakes his head as if he’s clearing his mind of an unpleasant thought and his eyes darken even more, the green entirely invisible.
“Sei da mozzare il fiato.” You’re breathtaking.
His hands sweep over my body, from my legs up to my narrow hips and over my stomach, to palm my breasts.
All I hear is our heavy breathing. All I feel is his touch on my sensitive skin. My whole body is on fire, and I revel in the allure of his seduction.
Luca twists his hand in my hair and pulls me toward him to taste my lips again. However, I lean back from his kiss to undo the upper buttons of his shirt because I’m naked and he’s still fully clothed. While watching me work his buttons, he gently brushes my bangs from my face. The manner in which he’s constantly touching me overwhelms me slightly, but I stay focused on the task at hand and push his shirt back over his shoulders, letting it flutter to the ground. Patiently, Luca studies me as I trace the outline of his well-defined muscles and hisses when I unbuckle his belt and palm his hardening length through his boxers. I stroke him a few times before he captures both my legs and yanks me forward.
Once again, he’s on his knees between my legs so that we’re at eye level. Luca forces me to the edge of the couch by grabbing my behind and smoothly sliding me toward him.
While digging his fingers into the curves of my ass, he mutters, “Open up for me. I’m going to lick you until you come.” And he makes me lie back against the couch with his hand pressed between my breasts so that I’m entirely exposed to him.
The coldness of the couch on my back and the warmth of his hands on my body are a titillating contradiction. And when Luca’s head lowers to lick my nipple, I sift my fingers through his hair, pushing my breast into his mouth. He sucks hard on the tip and groans while his hand leisurely trails down over my stomach and between my legs. He cups me roughly as he growls and shapes my nipple. The desirous onslaught has me writhing on the couch, impatient to have his lips on my core. Then his fingers caress me, and he eases his middle finger inside me once, twice before stopping. I thrash beneath his passionate touch while Luca licks and bites his way down my body and seizes me behind my knees to spread my legs wide. As he breathes in deeply, I feel the cold rush of his breath against my inner thighs, making me hyperaware of what he’s doing, and my back bows in torturous anticipation.
“Pull your legs up, Fallon,” he directs me in a carnal tone.
Complying, I pull my knees up to my chest, and Luca secures his fingers around my ankles, holding them firmly in place. Every second, his eyes are fixated on me, and he hisses in satisfaction before he lowers his mouth on me, causing me to moan loudly.
Our slow seduction has fueled an unbridled craving for each other. I watch him taste me and am met with his lust-filled gaze. He’s been constantly observing my reaction to his enticement, and chills run through my body when he plunges his tongue inside. The pad of his thumb rubs me carefully, yet fiercely, as the tingles start to form in my lower stomach. I’m on the precipice of exploding as he relentlessly fulfills me with his silky tongue, its powerful circulating motion on my most sensitive part making it impossible for me to keep my eyes open, and as they roll back, my other senses intensify again now that I’ve shut out the world.
I scream and whimper his name before reaching my peak. “Luca. Luca!”
And when ecstasy finds me, I shudder, pulsating with the pleasure he’s given me. Then I ride out my orgasm, only aware of my breathing and Luca’s continuous groans as he continues to lick me thoroughly, until I go slack.
He’s about to say something, still kneeling between my legs with his hands trailing up and down my thighs, when we’re interrupted by his ringing phone.
Didn’t he put it on silent earlier?
It keeps on ringing and ringing, so I arc one brow, hoping to prompt him to speak. Yet he merely sighs and rises to his feet to answer it.
Hurriedly, I dress in my panties, pick up my dress, and head to my bedroom. Grabbing my silk robe in the bathroom, I slip it on and meet Luca back in the living room where he’s standing by the coat rack with his phone in hand, swiftly typing away. His shirt has been buttoned and tucked back into his pants. One hand combs through his hair, and the change in his demeanor reminds me of the night we met in the club. There’s a hard edge to him, a contradiction in his actions and emotions that make him equally desirable yet unsettling.
I take this moment to slowly walk up to him, but without looking up, he says, “I have to go.”
Peeking at his phone screen, I notice he has many missed calls and messages and he’s clearly troubled about something. “Okay, you can wash up in the bathroom if you want?”
His phone disappears in his pocket. “No, I want to smell you on me.”
I flinch at his dirty confession, and the corners of his lips tilt up.
“I’m glad you can still laugh. Is something wrong that you have to leave so suddenly?” I ask him hesitantly.
An apologetic smile flits across his face before he masks it. “Yes, a situation with a friend of mine.” To appease me, he cups my cheeks. “I’ll call you.”
Since I have no idea what just happened, I simply stare at Luca as he takes his suit jacket, which looks to be oddly weighted down, and opens the door. He pecks a gentle kiss on my lips and immediately freezes, making me think that he’s surprised himself by initiating the kiss, and then he’s gone.
Closing the door, I lean back against it while our strange and rushed goodbye doesn’t sit well with me. He had a lot of missed calls, and I’m a little confused about why he left so abruptly.
Nevertheless, I also still sense his hands all over my body, and glancing at the couch, I can’t help but smile. Teagan would be proud of me.
Before going to bed, I decide to hop in the shower, but I stop to look at myself in the mirror. My lips are swollen, my hair is a tangled mess, and I have bite marks on my neck. I trace the marks with the tips of my fingers, a tangible memory.
At that exact moment, my phone alerts me of a message.
Luca: I’ll call you later. I had a wonderful evening with you.
Then why leave so hurriedly? That kind of bothers me a bit, but I don’t know why.
During my shower, I remember I have a busy week ahead, so I text Luca back when I’m lying in bed.
Fallon: I’m actually very tired and wanted to go to bed early. I’ll talk to you this week. Night.
Silencing my phone, I set
it on my nightstand beside my bed and close my eyes, attempting to block out any apprehension I feel.
CHAPTER 9
Luca
Fallon: I’m actually very tired and wanted to go to bed early. I’ll talk to you this week. Night.
I read Fallon’s text and realize that I need to handle this more delicately. I can’t believe I’m remorseful over leaving her and actually give a shit that she could be mad. Instead of pacifying my desire for her, this date has accomplished the exact opposite.
I connect my phone to the car charger while I’m speeding through the streets toward the warehouse up north to assist Adriano. The last money drop-off to our Syndicate for Crystal Lake – the territory we sold to the New York Syndicate’s boss, Leggia – was compromised, and Adriano and I need to find out why.
I decide to call Fallon right away, but it rings and rings and then it goes to voicemail.
My agitated state vanishes when I smell a hint of her on me, when I remember her soft skin that feels like satin and her breasts that fit perfectly in my palms. And I adjust my pants at the thought of how badly I want to drive myself into her. Watching Fallon climb toward release with my lips on her had me rock-hard and begging for relief.
I smile, reliving how her presence calmed me during dinner. For a guy who can never let his guard down, being with her made me feel peaceful and carefree to live in the moment.
Focusing on the road, I reach the old, brown-brick warehouse quicker than expected, so I decide to handle Fallon tomorrow.
Adriano’s vehicle is parked to the side. Before exiting my car, I call him to let him know that I’ve arrived and take my compact semi-automatic Smith & Wesson out of my jacket before I proceed to the building entrance.
“Damian,” I greet. One of our soldiers on Adriano’s team lets me inside where the scene is set up in the left corner of the warehouse, which has four rooms for private handlings such as this.
But Adriano likes the effect of the big, open warehouse area where his voice can resonate off the walls, and naturally, the first thing I hear is Adriano’s voice echoing through the building. “I’m losing patience with you, idiota.”