The Skull King (Skull 1)

“Don’t worry about me.” My hand slid into the back of her hair. “It’s him you should be worried about. He could walk in on us, and I would keep going. That little bitch doesn’t scare me.” I stared into her vibrant eyes and saw the same arousal I’d witnessed in the bedroom. She wanted me bad, wanted me even more now than she had before.

Her eyes trailed down to my lips. “I won’t be calling you again, Balto. So, this is goodbye.”

I’d never had a woman voluntarily walk away from me. And I’d never wanted to chase a woman either. I wanted to change her mind, but I had too much pride for that. All I could do was hope that her pussy would ache so much that she would give in again. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.” My fingers moved to her neck, and I kissed her softly on the mouth, my fingertips aware of her rising pulse. It started off slow and gentle, and now it picked up speed as our kiss continued.

It was just the two of us on the sidewalk, and not a single passerby emerged. It seemed like the world was empty with the exception of the two of us. The goodbye kiss was long and slow, as if neither one of us wanted it to end. Neither one of us wanted to go back to our beds alone.

She moved closer into me and gripped my biceps, her breath coming out shaky and soft. Her lips trembled against me like she wanted me more than she could stand. Her fingernails teased me, reminded me of the way she’d clawed my back when I was on top of her. She was an incredible kisser, her emotions clear and obvious. She wore her feelings on her sleeve, showed her desire with every move she made. She was an innately passionate woman stuck in a passionless marriage.

She pulled away first. “Bye, Balto.” With regret in her eyes, she turned away and slowly dragged her touch away from my arm. She kept the contact for as long as she could before the distance was too great.

She didn’t look at me again as she fished out her keys and got inside the car.

I stood with my hands in the pockets of my jeans and watched her drive off. Her taillights entranced me until she turned right and was no longer visible. I had all the resources and the power to find out exactly who she was if that was what I really wanted. But that information wouldn’t change anything. I wouldn’t hunt down her husband and kill him. I wouldn’t rescue a woman I hardly knew. I had so much other shit to worry about. I couldn’t get involved in something new—especially for a woman.

6

Balto

Getting into the building was easy. All I had to do was bust a few cameras, disarm the security officers at the front and knock them out, and then pick a few locks until I was inside the factory.

I stepped into a small kitchen area, stainless-steel appliances on all four walls. The center had a wooden island with various kinds of pastas hanging down. There were also wedges of cheese directly exposed to the air.

I approached the island and examined the experimentation going down. This must be the place where they tested their product and developed new sauces to accompany their family-secret pasta recipes.

Case Cardello, just the man I was looking for, stepped through the swinging double doors and spotted me across the kitchen island. Instead of reaching for a pan as a weapon or pulling a knife, he calmly walked to the edge of the counter and gripped the wood with both hands. He stared me down, fearless and unafraid. “I’m assuming you’re the one responsible for my unconscious men?”

I didn’t have high expectations of men. They were usually so scared they shit their pants, or they were just stupid. Case Cardello wasn’t either. He stood his ground but didn’t engage in a fight he couldn’t possibly win. “Balto.”

“What do you want, Balto? If you’re here to steal some pasta, be my guest.” He nodded to the array of cheeses ready to be sliced. “The cheese is excellent.”

I didn’t look like this from eating pasta and cheese all day long, and judging by his muscularity, he didn’t either. I respected him for handling the situation so calmly. Anyone else would have lost their shit, but he kept so calm, it was eerie. “You’re new to the game, so I’ll cut you some slack. Nothing gets imported or exported through this country without my cut. If you think you can pull this shit right under my nose, then you’re one arrogant son of a bitch.”

Case released the edge of the table and sauntered toward me slowly. His hand dragged across the wooden surface of the table, past the crumbs of old cheese that had dried out. The place smelled like a traditional Italian kitchen, where the matriarch of the family prepared every meal, every day. He stopped when he was feet away from me, holding his own but failing to intimidate me. “Your cut?”