When She Falls (The Fallen, #3)(64)

No fucking way. I can’t leave now. “Let me stay and find out more. What if Messero is implicated in all of this? He might think he has the FBI in his pocket, but it wouldn’t be the first time a don has overplayed his hand.”

“All right. Let’s give it a bit more time,” he concedes.

Relief floods me. “I’ll call if anything new comes up.”





At breakfast, I find out that Pietra is taking Gemma and Cleo with her to their house in the Hamptons for the next two days.

I try to convince myself it’s a good thing, because it’ll give Gemma time to talk to her brother and process things, but there’s a pang of disappointment low inside my gut.

Right before they’re due to leave, Gemma finds me in the kitchen. The cook is prepping ingredients, but Gemma gives her a pointed look, and the woman quickly excuses herself to go outside for a cigarette.

I lean against the counter and drag my gaze over her form.

Tight leggings. A T-shirt with a wide neck that falls off one shoulder. A glimpse of a black sports bra beneath.

She’s not dressed to impress anyone, and yet she’s fucking gorgeous. I wasn’t lying when I called her the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

I’m going half mad over her, and I don’t even know how she feels about me.

Was it me she wanted last night? Or did she just want a willing participant in her fantasy, and I was the most convenient option?

I haven’t missed how things have warmed between us since Ibiza, but last night was the first time she took the initiative and came to me. And for all I know, it was a one-time fluke.

If it was, that would be a good thing. I’m supposed to stay away from her. That’s what Dem wants me to do, and he’s my don. We didn’t fuck. She’s still probably marrying that cocksucker. She’s still entirely out of my reach.

Tell me last night meant nothing. That it was a mistake.

If she says those words to me, I swear I’ll leave her alone.

I’ll wrap up my business here, go home, and probably spend the rest of my nights thinking of her while staring at my bedroom ceiling, but I’ll manage.

Somehow, I’ll manage.

She glances at me from beneath her lashes and awkwardly shifts in place. “I wanted to say bye in person.” Her voice is husky. Raw.

A shiver runs down my spine.

“That’s…” I take a sip of coffee, looking for the right words. “That’s nice of you.” I sound like a fucking moron.

She bites down on her lip. “Is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“It’s just…last night was…”

I brace myself for what’s coming. She’s going to say it was a mistake.

“It was incredible. And confusing.”

Fireworks explode inside my chest. I file the incredible away, and ask, “Confusing… How?”

Pink spreads over her cheeks. “I wish you’d let me touch you. I wanted to touch you.” She glances away.

Fuck.

“Peaches,” I say brokenly. I put my cup down, walk over to her, and lift her chin up with my knuckle, forcing her to look at me. She sucks in a tiny breath, her eyes wide and a little shy.

She’s not lying.

And it’s not just lust shining in her eyes.

Something tender flashes within them, and it makes my breath catch. We’re standing still, but my heart feels like it’s soaring.

It’s not just me. She feels something too.

She moves first, bringing her hand to my chest.

I back her against the counter, my arms caging her in on both sides. She shoots a look over my shoulder but doesn’t tell me to stop.

Her fingertips trace a light path over my abdomen and then drift lower.

I’m already hard. It doesn’t take much with her.

She cups my erection.

I swallow down a groan.

Why the fuck is she leaving for two whole days?

And how much trouble would I be in if I crash every single one of Garzolo’s cars to keep her here?

“I wanted to make you come,” she whispers. “I’ve never made a man come before.”

I press my lips just below her ear. “Trust me, you did.”

She shivers when she realizes what I mean. “When?”

“Last night after I got back to my room,” I growl, “and every fucking night since I arrived here. Do you know what it’s like watching your tight little ass prance around me? Or smelling your scent in the air whenever I leave my room?” I roll my hips against her. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

She gasps and slips her hand inside my jeans.

The moment her palm wraps around my cock, I nearly keel over. When she pumps it up and down, I feel like I’ve made it into heaven.

We’re in the kitchen, where anyone can walk in on us, and I’m losing my mind over a hand job.

A door closes loudly in the distance, and we break apart.

Fucking fuck.

This is torture.

She’s breathing hard as she watches me adjust myself, her eyes glazed over and hungry. Just knowing that I’d find a whole lot of wet if I reached inside her panties right now makes my pre-cum leak out.

She backs away slowly, her gaze locked with mine. “I don’t know what I’m doing. But I don’t want to stop.”