Jack of Spades (Vegas Underground 2)

“Really, Bobby? That’s what you want to say to my brother when he already wants to shove your balls up your ass?” Nico says. He’s all calm and in control while Stefano’s a raging bull.

The guys all laugh.

“Apologize to her.” Spit flies from Stefano’s mouth.

The guy wipes blood with a stupid grin on his face.

Stefano lunges again. “I said—”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you. I’m sorry, Miss—”

“Simonson,” Nico provides.

“Simonson,” Tony repeats it like the idiot should recognize the name. I mean, he should, but clearly he’s drunk and probably stupid to begin with, so I don’t think he’s going to. “She’s the bride’s fucking cousin, and now you know why she’s in here, coglione.” Tony fills in. “She’s spying on Nico. So put your dick away and act like a fucking gentleman.”

“Get her out of here,” Nico says, finally releasing Stefano.

Fury still knotting his expression, he reaches out a hand.

I take it and allow him to lead me out of the room.

* * *

Stefano

I’m too pissed to see straight. That testa di cazzo had his fucking paws all over Corey, and I still want to kill him.

And I’m pissed at myself for losing my shit.

I didn’t want Corey to see me like this. Ever.

This is a side of myself I’d prefer didn’t exist—the Tacone temper. An inheritance from my father’s side, or perhaps simply nurtured into me through exposure to violence from a young age.

I’ve been trying to make Corey believe I’m something else. Something beyond a shady mafioso. Something sophisticated and trustworthy and fucking upstanding.

But Junior had to roll into town with the whole pack of guidos and expose me for what I am.

One of them.

Chauvinistic, paternalistic, low-class seedy bastards who grope prostitutes and act like assholes.

“Hey,” Corey says softly when we get in the elevator.

I can’t even look at her. I’m so goddamn ashamed. Ashamed and angry. I pace around the small elevator, stabbing my fingers through my hair.

“Hey,” she repeats, grabbing the lapels of my jacket and stepping into my space. She drops her hand down to cup my balls and suddenly it’s on.

Fighting already gives me a cockstand, so it’s easy to switch gears from fight to fuck. My dick lurches into her hand and I spin her around and pin her against the elevator wall. The doors ding and open at our floor, but I hit the button for the rooftop, and they close again.

“Get those long fucking legs up around my waist,” I growl like she’s in deep trouble, when really, I’m the guy who ought to be on his knees right now.

She complies and I thrust into the notch between her legs, the damp heat of her pussy providing the beacon for my aching cock.

The elevator doors open and I carry her out, right onto the roof. The Bellissimo has a rooftop restaurant a few stories below, but this roof is utilitarian, with HVAC, mechanical systems and other equipment. I push her up against the HVAC unit and work my zipper open to free my erection.

I tear her panties off with a tug that makes her squeal and then I’m in her, sinking into her heat.

I’m mindless with need, thrusting like my life depends on it. Like if I just get deep enough, I can erase every hurt and anger I’ve ever suffered. Like her pussy is home base and if I can just get deeper, just claim it completely, I’ll have won.

Corey wraps her arms around my neck, hangs on and rides me, her hips tilted to take me deeper, her little moans and cries the soundtrack to my lust.

“I need you, baby,” I mutter, frantic to just fuck her harder, just get deeper.

“I know, I know,” she pants.

I lean in and bite her neck, hang on with my teeth, making her whimper on the next thrust.

And then I’m gone.

Heat flashes at the base of my spine, my balls tighten up.

I lose my vision—or maybe I close my eyes, I can’t tell—but everything goes black, stars burst from the periphery as I roar loud enough for all of fucking Las Vegas to hear.

Corey screams, too and I come, emptying into her, her pussy milking—

Oh fuck.

I yank out, coming on the wall between her thighs, on her dress, on my hand. Her feet drop abruptly to the ground

“Fuck, baby. I didn’t protect you. I’m so sorry. I lost my head.”

“It’s fine; we’re fine. I got on the pill last week.”

I sag in relief. “I’m clean. I swear to you.”

“I am, too. I just got checked.”

“Grazie Dio.” I lean my forehead against hers. For a moment I stay there, just breathing her breath, keeping our connection. “I’m sorry you saw me like that. I’m embarrassed, Corey.”

She wraps her arms around the back of my head, burrowing her fingers into my hair. “Are you kidding?” She massages my scalp, gazes up at me with her electric blue eyes. “No one’s ever defended me before. I’m not the kind of girl who plays damsel in distress, in fact, part of me wants to tell you off for assuming I couldn’t handle it myself. But, Stefano, I’m pretty much swooning right now. You’re a knight in fucking shining armor.”