For Fallon (8 page)

Fallon

I squint my eyes open the next morning and jump out of bed when I see it’s almost nine and quickly check my messages: Teagan and Luca. Luca called right after he received my text. Around six in the morning, he sent a text.

Good morning, Fallon. Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them. - Shakespeare

I smile to myself while reading the quote from
Twelfth Night
. Luca knows I collect book quotes and write them down everywhere. A lazy grin pulls at my mouth as I sit on my bed thinking about last night, first thing in the morning; that’s what he wanted and why he sent the message at six. He’s up early.

Reminded of the fact that I’m already
running late for work, I decide to text him back later and shower in record time.

The entire day is busy, and I’m home late that night. All I want to do when I arrive home is eat dinner, shower, and visit my bed. After ordering a deep dish pizza – screw the no-carb policy - I skip the shower because I’m too tired and climb into my bed.

***

After discussing some more changes to be made on the texts and font of several invites with Alex on Tuesday, he offers for us to have lunch together. We visit the deli across the street. He has a sandwich, and I order a shrimp salad. I’ve never felt completely relaxed with Alex, partly because he’s my boss, and also because he’s a distant man. During lunch, we discuss several charities and other events he’s working on. I notice that he’s been acting agitated, and he appears stressed while he eats hurriedly. Apparently, he has a lot of work waiting for him at the office.

I’m not even halfway through my salad when Alex checks his phone and rises out of his seat. “Fallon, I have to take care of an urgent e-mail.”

I want to finish my lunch. “Okay. Go. I’ll finish and then return too.”

His mouth quirks up uncertainly. “See you in a few.”

I don’t even get to say goodbye before he hurries out of the deli. I’m pleased he left because his distressed mood was annoying me. This gives me time to read a few pages, so I get my e-reader out of my bag and am engrossed in an astonishingly emotional historical romance that I’ve already added to my ‘favorite’ shelf on
Goodreads, before I’ve finished the trilogy. “Oh Shura, don’t you dare go in there!” Every so often, I talk to my book characters. It helps me cope with my feelings, and at the moment, I’m pissed off at the male lead. I’m dangerously close to throwing my e-reader across the room.

I finish my salad and order another tea. My tea arrives. “Thank you.” I don’t want to stop reading for a second, so I don’t even look up to the waitress. The shadow that falls over me - I thought it was the waitress - doesn’t move. My head snaps up to a tall, striking Italian.

“Fallon, always with your face in the books. Do you even realize how sexy that is?” he says in a throaty voice and bends down to place a feather light kiss on my lips.

“Luca.
Hi….” It takes a minute for me to compose myself. I was going to text or call him back tonight because I was too tired last night. “What are you doing here?”

“Lunch.”
He looks at his watch, and his lip twitches for a second. “Are you on your lunch break?”

“I am.” He knows I work across the street, and I think he scheduled his lunch here hoping to run into me. “I was here with my boss, but he had to get back. Some emergency he had to handle immediately. Sit.”

His brows furrow while he looks around the place. “Thank you.” Luca smiles tenderly at me as he decides to sit down next to me. “I was hoping you would text me back.” His tone is serious now.

I tilt my head. “It’s been two days. Don’t tell me you’re missing me?” I ask with a hint of disbelief just to goad him.

Luca braces his hand on my neck to bring me closer to him and runs his fingers over my collarbone. “Maybe I did. Your taste is addictive. I. Want. More.” He pulls me further into him by my small waist.

I turn my head, and our noses touch as his breath fans over my cheek. “Maybe more can be arranged,” I huskily counter and almost press my lips to his before retreating. “I have to get back to work now.” Next time will happen on my terms.

I attempt to rise and Luca’s hand grabs my wrist to stop me. With an enormous smirk, he lifts his eyes to me. “I’m calling you tonight.”

Luca

I needed to keep my distance from her for a few days after our first official date, which is why I didn’t mind her withdrawn behavior. However, after two days of following her to guarantee she was safe from
Leggia’s men, I couldn’t refrain and sought to touch her when she was reading alone in the deli. I would’ve planned to see her tonight, but James wants to discuss new businesses with me and Salvatore alone. I have to be at the house for the next two days, but Friday I’m coming straight back to The Loop.

Our Syndicate is scattered all over the city. None of us actually live at the house or even close-by. Adriano and I are the only two members of the
Calderone Syndicate to live in The Loop, and no one except James, Salvatore, and Adriano knows my home address. Only Adriano’s welcome in my home, and a few non-Syndicate-related women have been here for a couple of hours.

While I’m packing, I call Fallon.

“Hi.” She clears her throat.

“Hi, did I wake you?”

She clears her throat again, her voice is still coarse. “I fell asleep on the couch.”

“Shall I call you tomorrow then?” My tone is soft.

“I can talk now. What time is it?”             

I glance at my phone for the time. “Midnight,” I answer. “It’s late. You should go back to sleep, so I’ll keep it short. I want to have you all to myself Friday night.”

A door closes on her end. “Are you home?”

“Yes, I just got here.”

“Oh okay, we can talk tomorrow then.” She sounds disappointed.             

“That’s not what I meant. I’m happy to talk to you.” And I truly am. Even if it’s for a few seconds; I’m already starting to crave her daily.

“I’m in bed now.”

I growl, thinking of her in bed. “I’m looking forward to tasting you again, Fallon,” I admit in a low voice.

I hear her moving around in the background; she’s undressing. “Sweet talk will get you everywhere,” she replies, followed by a yawn.

“You should sleep. Good night, Fallon.”

“Friday night,” she confirms. “Night, Luca.”

I finish packing and drive to the headquarters. The house is busy. All three
Capi
are present with most of their soldiers in the living room, and Adriano’s talking to his equals. I greet Alesandro and Robert and start toward the third floor to my private room. Only James and I have a private room on the third floor and an office on the second floor in this house. The
Capi
are allowed to occupy rooms adjacent to the ‘strip club,’ but the third floor is off limits unless they’re invited by either James or me. After dumping my belongings, I meet James in his office.

“Luca.”
He motions for me to enter from behind his desk when I darken his doorway.

I close the door and make my way across the room, greeting James with a firm handshake and my left arm wrapped around his shoulder.

James has a commanding personality that has also been instilled in me. He’s fatherly and intimidating. Always calm and controlled, thinking deeply before he speaks his mind.

I revel in always being calm and controlled too. Lately I can think
of several occasions where I’ve been confronted with unknown emotions, where I debate letting go of my controlled reaction - with Fallon.

“Sit, son.” James’ fifty-five years aren’t apparent in his outer appearance because he’s fit and always polished in his Italian suits. Only his grey hairs reveal his age.

I sit across from him as he resumes his seat. “Thanks, James.”

“Giacomo
Leggia contacted me. He wanted to know what finding Jack’s body meant.” James’ tone, of course, is bland.

“It was a message that I know he’s after us,” I disclose.

“Good thinking, son. Leggia is always running behind on all the facts. He was so dead set on taking over Calderone territory that he didn’t even think twice about why we would hand it over. He’s power hungry and jealous. Too volatile. Alessandro’s spy in the Leggia Syndicate discovered that Leggia was on a rampage after he found out that most dealers in Crystal Lake weren’t pledged to a Syndicate. They answer to no one, which will make it impossible for him to manage the money, and he’ll encounter the same problems we did.”

“He must be driven by his jealousy to take over our territory so carelessly. I want him to know that we’re always one step ahead of him.”

“He knows. I was amicable to him. He surrounds himself with incapable
Capi
. Let’s wait and see what he does next.”

I lean forward and pour myself a glass of water. “What new business do you have? Is Salvatore coming?”

“Yes, he—”

Salvatore arrives, his usual disheveled self in his rumpled, brown outfit. That’s his strength though - with his appearance, people easily discount him, but he’s a shark. “James, Luca.” He sets his briefcase on James’ desk and sits next to me.

James informs us of his plans. “We presently rule the drug trafficking in the north, and there’s demand in the east, so I’m thinking of expanding. Luca, what do you think?”

“I don’t know anything about the east. Are there small drug dealers operating there? I’ll have to send Alessandro or John to investigate. We can easily regulate uncharted territory. Smalltime drug dealers can be pushed out within weeks or fall under our payroll. And we have to make sure
Leggia’s men aren’t doing any business in the east,” I advise.

James nods his head in acknowledgement. “Salvatore?”

“I say let John do some digging around. We will need new offshore bank accounts to discreetly manage the cash flow.”

“Let’s put it in motion, gentlemen,” Salvatore resolves.

Fallon

Luca calls me every night until our date. Sometimes we talk for half an hour. Sometimes we talk for only five minutes, but I have come to anticipate the evening calls.

Promptly at six on Friday night, Luca knocks on my door.

Opening the door, I say jokingly, “Did you just stand outside the door until it was six and then knock?”

Luca’s lips curve in a crooked grin. “No, I’m just punctual.”

“Well, it’s creepy,” I throw back. Luca’s looking dashing, as always, in his black jeans and silver grey button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his handsome features strengthened by the gleam in his eyes. I motion to him in full length and state in a sarcastic tone, “This is casual?”
He texted me last night to dress casual.

“It is for me.”

I look at myself - in dark jeans and a turquoise shirt that hangs casually over one shoulder, hair contained in a low side-knot – and frown.

Luca tilts my chin up to him with his finger. “You look beautiful,
dolcezza
. Don’t frown like that. I come bearing gifts.” He beams.

“
Dolcezza?”
I question.

“An endearment.”

“Not ‘baby,’ I hope?” My brows crease, hoping he did not just call me baby.

Luca laughs. “No, more like sweetheart.”

“I like that, sounds sweet.”

He leans down beside the door and holds out a white, square box.

I show him a sincere smile and peek inside: an entire dark chocolate cake, dessert from our first date. “Do we have to go out? I’d rather stay here and eat this.” My eyes widen in delight, and I lick my lips.

“You can eat it tomorrow.” He leans down and pecks me on the lips.
“Since it’s still a workday.” Luca grasps my hips. “Although I think you can eat carbs any day. And you
are
eating carbs tonight for dinner.”

“Fine.
Come inside,” I demand quickly and put the cake on the kitchen table.

Luca walks over to me and takes my face in his hands to let his tongue trace my lips. Every brush of his tongue brings a surge of excitement, causing me to breathe heavily and tug at the hair at his nape as he continues to taste my lips.

Luca pulls back a fraction and heat flashes across his eyes. “I’m taking you to my place. Pack some clothes,” he announces seductively.

***

After changing into a comfortable dress, I’m wandering barefooted on the hardwood floors of his penthouse - which has a magnificent view of Chicago from the floor-to-ceiling windows - as Luca runs down the street for some groceries immediately after we arrived. His penthouse is decorated in warm off-white and brown colors that must’ve been done by interior designers because everything matches perfectly.

As I head back to the living room, the elevator doors open and Luca steps out with a grocery bag. He places the groceries on his solid black granite-top kitchen island.

I join him in the kitchen and peek in the bag. “What did you get?”

I’m tenderly pushed aside and led to sit on the bar stool on the other side of the island. “No peeking. You sit while I busy myself with dinner.” He takes out the groceries one by one: eggs, parsley, bread, and wine.

“What are we eating?”

“Pasta, of course.”

“You forgot the pasta.” I lean my elbows on the island.

Luca shoots me a disapproving look. “We’re making fresh pasta.” He points his thumb behind him over his shoulder. Next to the refrigerator is a chrome-coated steel pasta machine.
“None of that store-bought pasta in my house. You and I are making tagliatelle.”

“I thought
you
were making dinner, and I only had to sit here?” I tease him.

Luca gets a cutting board and flour from the cabinet behind him. “
You
are only permitted to help with the pasta, then you need to sit back down.”

“Yes, boss,” I salute.

Luca stills for a split second, but I catch it and frown at him.

He disregards my questioning frown. “Come.”

I stand next to Luca, and he pulls me in front of him, his body heat warming my back. His hand skims down my arm, removing the beige elastic band I always wear - in case I want to put my long hair up - from my wrist. “Never thought a beautiful woman would be prancing around my home, barefooted.” He then pulls my hair into a ponytail and presses his lips softly to my neck.

I rest my head back on his shoulder. “I don’t believe that. Plenty of women have been here, I’m sure.”

Luca palms my face, forcing me to turn my head and look at him. “That’s not what I said
or
meant. Don’t belittle this moment. The thought of you waiting for me here turned me on, but my fantasy wasn’t as promising as the real thing. You in this white lightweight dress - no shoes, no make-up, just the real you - is enough to make me hard.”  He’s rubbing his stiffening length against my backside.

“Thank you.” I bow into him and he
takes this as an invitation to run his hands along my cleavage.

“I want you so bad it hurts,” he groans in a breath that caresses my face. Luca massages my breasts in his warm hands while his lips search for skin to touch. “What do you want, Fallon. Do I need to feed you first?” he asks while kissing my shoulder and trailing his hand down to cup me between my legs. My legs open wider, and he buries his hand in my panties, ever so slightly circling two fingers.

I push back against him. “No,” I answer with conviction because I want him. I want to feel all of him.

I’m spun around lightning fast and smothered by a forceful and claiming kiss when he strips my dress off of me and flings it across the kitchen as if he can’t get me naked fast enough. His look is feral as he stares hungrily at my bare breasts. I place both my palms on his solid chest and into the V of his shirt and smile teasingly. He cocks his head in question right before I rip open his dress shirt, making the buttons fly around the room and clank on the floor. I’ve always wanted to do that.

My arms come around his neck when his sexy smirk is close to my mouth, and he lifts me onto the cold counter. Luca unfastens his belt, and I slide his boxers off with my feet to take his erection in hand. He growls into my mouth, and I help him strip my panties and then stroke him as he continues to kiss and bite down my throat, yanking me forward to the edge. He gets a condom from his pants on the floor and quickly rolls it on. Luca hisses as I center him at my entrance, rubbing the head of his shaft up and down myself.

Our hooded eyes lock before he pushes into me, stretching me inch by inch, slow and deliberate, allowing me time to adjust to his thick length.

He groans, feeling how I open up to him. “Fuck, Fallon, you’re so tight. I want to fuck you hard.” And his eyes close while he attempts to compose himself.

I watch his muscular body push into my soft flesh and shoot him a luscious smile. “I want you to fuck me hard, Luca.” I lie back on the counter as he rests my legs against his toned chest, kissing my ankle.

He makes a low guttural sound, barely holding his control, and eases in and out unhurriedly while watching me, allowing himself to enjoy the sensation when he pushes all the way inside. His pumping increases while he hooks my legs under his arms, pushing my knees toward my chest, and starts to ride me. It feels delightfully raw when he kisses me hard on my mouth, jawline, and then bites my shoulder, his powerful strokes enticing me even more. I whimper when he pinches my nipple. There’s nothing tender about what we’re doing, but it still feels intimate to me. My eyelids fall closed as he takes my body without mercy.

He slows his pumping. “Look at me, or I slow down,” Luca hoarsely demands.

My eyes snap open to look up at him as he’s pumping ferociously into me, changing his angle. Luca adjusts my body slightly under his strong grip, moving me into a position where I can only feel the pleasures of his strokes. My orgasm rips through me, and the heat burns at my core, instantly traveling through my entire body. My inner walls clench around his erection, my back arches, and I feel him going in deeper, prolonging my pleasure. He sensually kneads the soft flesh of my breast, and I scream his name once more before I can look at him again through half-closed eyes. Satiated, I slowly drift back from my high.

Luca pulls up my legs again and lets them rest against his chest. His throaty groan through clenched teeth warns me of his impending release. His groin is pressed between my legs, and all I can do is take what he gives me. I feel his erection growing and twitching as he thrust a few more times. Luca’s hands trail down my outer legs and hips as he releases himself with a low, “Fuck!” His thrusting slows and he falls on top of me, his hand on my hip caressing upward to cover my breast.

We lie there panting for a while, deliciously exhausted.

Luca lifts himself off of me and we lock eyes; the same look of pleasured souls is reflected in our gaze. “I was planning to feed you first,” he confesses with a mock smile.

I’m still floating back from this unexpected and extremely satisfying momentum.

He ghosts his lips over mine and covers my body again, letting our flushed skin touch. “If you want to lie here while I’m cooking, I’m not complaining. I’m just getting started with you,
dolcezza.
”

I laugh and push him away. Luca’s eyes cut to my breasts and his hand wanders over my stomach. “I’ll get up, chef. I’m suddenly famished.” Before he can make a crude remark, I mumble, “For food.”  I’m stuck to the counter from our sweaty activity and slowly rise up.

He places my dress over my head, constantly touching any piece of bare skin he can get his hands on.

After
we wash our hands and clean the cooking area, Luca stands behind me again and places the flour on the board to make a well. “Now for the pasta. Crack four eggs into the well,” he instructs.

I get a fork from the drawer and crack them neatly into the flour.

“Now we whisk the eggs until they’re smooth.”

I do as instructed. We do this all with me trapped between his arms. I sigh contently.

Luca traces the spaghetti strap of my dress. “Aren’t you cold?”

“No, I like wearing lightweight, comfortable clothes, and I’m never cold. I look at him sideways. “You’re distracting me, chef.”

A deep rumble leaves his chest. “
You
are distracting, my sexy student.” He kisses my bare shoulder and eyes the eggs. “Good. Now we mix it.”

Luca covers my hands with his and shows me how to incorporate the eggs with the flour. “Use the tips of your fingers to mix it a little at a time.”

Together, we combine the eggs and flour. “Finally, we knead the pieces together into one smooth lump of dough.” He kneads it himself; smashing, pulling, and reshaping the dough. Then he releases it for my turn. “Keep kneading until it’s all smooth; no lumps.”

I bash the dough continually, which is fun. This could be good anger control. When you’re angry, just bash some dough. I laugh at my own thought.

Luca catches it. “What’s funny?”

“I was thinking
, if you need to get your anger out of your system, bashing dough would be good therapy.”

His lips curve into a smile.
“Very true. With little casualties,” he adds distractedly. He still lingers behind me and observes my movement.

I feel my biceps working. “This is hard work.”

Again, he covers my hand with his and together we knead, our fingers entwining in the dough. Our cheeks side by side, his closeness is irresistibly tempting me to kiss him.

As if reading my thoughts, he traces his nose over my jaw. “You’re pulling me in,” he mutters in an anguished tone.

“What?” My fingers are sticking to the dough too much, pulling it apart instead of smoothing it out. “My fingers are too sticky.”

Luca straightens. “Rub some flour on your hands.”

I do as he says and smooth the dough out. “Done.”

“Perfect. It needs to rest for thirty minutes.” Luca rolls the dough in a circle with both hands and covers the ball with a large overturned bowl.

“I want to use the pasta machine,” I announce while rinsing my hands.

“You’re an enthusiastic student,” Luca remarks, smiling.

“I didn’t know cooking could be this way. With Teagan, I get screamed at when I do one thing wrong, and then she bans me from the kitchen. I hate cooking with her.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “With you, it’s kind of a turn-on.” I turn to check out the pasta machine. “Um, this looks brand new, Mr. DeMiliano. Are you just showing off for me?”

Luca shows me a hint of a playful grin. “What if I was?  Are you complaining? I’ll use any excuse to wow you.”

“Definitely no complaints.” I slip back onto the bar stool.

Luca dazzles me with a lazy smirk. He offers me a glass of red as he starts chopping garlic and parsley.

“Who taught you to cook?”