Joker's Wild (Vegas Underground 5)

I just shake my head, because if I speak, I’m going to be a serious asshole.

Luca steps through the door and Desiree catches it and holds it open. “My mom’s gotta run to her shift at the hospital. Bye, Mom!” She shuffles her mom past me and practically shoves her out, shutting the door tight behind her.

Two seconds go by as I try to decide if I need to go after her or not.

But Desiree’s standing in front of me, twisting her hands. “Just chill out, Junior,” she says, but her words are pleading. “She doesn’t know anything. She didn’t see the wound, didn’t ask any questions. She just shows up and does her thing and leaves. Nothing to worry about.”

I take a step toward Desiree. I suppose it must come off as menacing, because she takes two steps back, her pupils narrow with alarm. I can’t reassure her, because I’m still teetering on the edge of doubt.

And the idea of Desiree not being trustworthy fucking guts me.

I don’t even know what I’d do.

I couldn’t hurt her. I don’t even think I have it in me to threaten her with something awful.

“What were you thinking?” I snarl. “You just made your mom a witness.”

“Junior, you’re not listening. She saw nothing. And even if she knew everything, you’re safe. She’s my mom. Her trust lies with mine. Always. I’m on your side, I’m Team Tacone, so that means she is, too. Without question, without a shadow of a doubt. We’re family.” She tilts her head. “Surely you understand about that?”

The haze around my vision starts to clear and I draw in a few deeper breaths.

I’m Team Tacone.

I’m on your side.

Her words do something terrible and beautiful to me. Shred me in half and reshape me into something new.

And suddenly I’m on her, kissing the fuck out of her, holding the back of her head captive as my tongue sweeps into her mouth. I nip her lips, suck them. Bruise them with the intensity of my desire.

I carry her upstairs, legs wrapped around my waist, never breaking the frantic kiss. In my bedroom, I lower her to stand and rip her scrubs off while she works on my clothes. I bite her neck, lift her up and throw her on her back on my bed.

I want to reward her for hours, but there’s too much pressure built up—like my whole life, my whole essence of being just undammed and wants to pour out to her. There’s no stopping it. I yank off her panties and shove one knee up to feast between her legs. It’s not nuanced foreplay—I’m not capable of precision. It’s more like I devour her. Suck and bite and plunge my tongue in her entrance. And then I can’t wait any longer. I yank off my boxer briefs and roll on a condom in record time and then I’m over her.

Spearing her with my erection.

Claiming her with every ounce of my being.

I slam in hard. She cries out, but her eyes are closed, her head tipped back with pleasure.

Fuck, I need her. I plant my hands up above her shoulders so she can’t slide and fuck her with all the force inside me. It’s rough.

Rabid.

It’s far more animal than man.

I didn’t know I had this amount of passion in me, but here it is. Pouring out, mingling with hers, making me a new man. Whole again.

She’s making her noises—cries and moans and incoherent begging.

“Desiree,” I choke. Because I need to speak her name. The name of the woman who did this to me. Who turned me inside out. Reshaped me.

Her eyes open and she reaches for me. Digs her nails into my back as I slam into her supple body. She wraps her legs around my waist and hooks her ankles behind my back, using her legs to encourage me even deeper, harder. To show me she wants this. Wants more.

And I don’t hold back. The bed slams against the wall, mattress bounces and shakes as I take my woman, give her every ounce of everything I have.

A stream of Italian comes out of my mouth. I’m babbling more than she is. My thighs tighten up, lightning strikes at the base of my spine. I roar like a fucking lion, slam in and out of her so hard I fear I’ll break her. And then I go deep.

“Fuck, Desiree, come, baby.” I’m begging her to come because I can’t hold my orgasm back, and I don’t have the coordination or brain cells to make sure she gets off.

She does. Her muscles tighten and squeeze my dick the minute I tell her to, a quick pulsing that makes her choke on a scream, head thrown back, eyes rolled up in her head.

I fill the condom. Fuck, I come so much I fear it won’t hold it all. And then I’m on top of her, panting into her neck, listening to her slowing cries.