The Groom (14 page)

Katrina’s hips bucked as his
thumb circled her sensitive nub. Her hips wiggled and ground against his hand
as he cupped her, taking her heat and moisture into his palm as his fingers
teased her mercilessly. She could feel his breath quickening against her thigh
as he rested his head there. His fingers never ceasing in their quest to
explore her intimate flesh. He gazed up at her, his eyes questioning as if
asking for permission. Katrina wanted to scream that he could do anything he
wanted to her so long as it all felt as good as this. But all she was capable
of was a nod and a strangled, “please.”

They sighed as one as his index
finger circled her entrance once, then again, before dipping into her channel,
caressing her sensitive insides gently. Katrina threw her head back, clutching
at his shirt collar as he slid the digit in and out slowly, his thumb still
working the now swollen and pulsating button above. The beginning tremors of a
climax rocked through her, and her hands came up to tangle in his hair as he
stroked her, his fingers moving faster now as if he could feel the tiny
flutters beginning as well.

Katrina’s entire body went rigid
as a second finger joined the first inside of her, filling her even more and
increasing the friction of his strokes to nearly unbearable limits. She
clenched her teeth and fought not to scream as Lyle’s lips clamped over her,
finally giving her the slick warmth of his mouth as she toppled over the edge,
the shudders that ripped through her insides rocking her deep in her core. Her
fingers tangled in his hair as he feasted on her, his tongue searching and
seeking; his fingers slowing and finally stilling within her as the last inner spasms
stilled.

Lyle was on his feet in a
heartbeat, not stopping her this time as she reached for his belt. Katrina tore
frantically at the buckle, anxious for more, desperate for the fulfillment of
the promise he’d made with his hands and his mouth. As soon as she’d freed him,
he reached for her, plucking her effortlessly from the floor and turning toward
the dresser nearby. Katrina wrapped her legs around his waist and hung on as he
set her on the surface.

He gripped her hips and pulled
her to the edge of the dresser. “Damn,” he mumbled suddenly, panic filling his
eyes as he gazed up at her, “I don’t have a condom. I haven’t carried one on me
since I was in college. Seems a bit immature to assume I could have sex at any
second.”

Katrina giggled and crossed her
ankles behind him, pulling him forward until he rested against her. Lyle
groaned as her wet center made contact with his swollen head. Katrina could
feel the blood rushing and pulsating there.

“Don’t worry,” she said tracing
the line of this jaw. “I always keep a few in that drawer there.” Katrina’s
face went hot and she blushed, embarrassed. “I may be just a girl who sings in
a bar, but I am always careful about that.”

“Hey,” his gruff voice and firm
lips pressing against hers cut her off midsentence. When he pulled back, the
gold flecks of his eyes were on fire. “You are not just a bar girl,” he said,
all traces of humor now gone. “You are so much more than that.”

He opened said drawer and rifled
around for a bit until he found what he was looking for. It took only a few
seconds for him to tear the square foil package open with his teeth and sheath
himself.

Katrina’s breath caught in her
throat as he kissed her again, making it clear without words that he wanted no
argument from her. She melted into him as he reached down between them,
gripping himself in his fist before guiding it toward her entrance. His lips
softened against hers, and his groan of satisfaction danced across her lips as
he entered her in one smooth motion. Katrina held on to him as he gripped the
edge of the dresser and moved inside of her, pulling nearly all the way out
before finding his way home again.

His strokes were smooth and sure
as he took his time, filling her, stretching her, searing her insides
permanently with a sensation she’d never known before. Nothing had ever felt
deeper, or more right, than this moment, and Katrina found her earlier urgency
was gone. She could revel in his slow lovemaking forever, never wanting it to
end as he filled her over and over again, his lips lingering over the shell of
her ear as unintelligible words of passion fell from them to tickle her skin as
well as warm her heart.

This time, when her climax came
up on her, she lay back against the dresser’s mirror and waited for it instead
of straining toward it. She drank him in, her eyes traveling over every detail
of his face as she realized that he was right there with her, nearing the edge
of his control. She wanted to know what he looked like, to remember every
nuance of his enraptured face at the moment her insides pulsated around him
like a tight fist, triggering the final thrust of his hips that signaled his
exquisite ending. He fell against her, his grip tightening on the edge of the
dresser as he came. His head fell against her shoulder and she cradled him,
running her fingers through the sweat-dampened hair at his forehead and temples
as his chest heaved with rapid breath.

They remained that way so long
Katrina was not sure how much time had passed. All she knew was she could
remain that way forever, with Lyle’s head cradled against her heart, the
remnants of lovemaking hanging on the air around them. She closed her eyes and
inhaled his scent, knowing that it could never last but still hoping that it
would.

_________

“TELL ME
ABOUT him.”

Katrina glanced down to where
Lyle was tracing his fingertip over the tattoo on her hand. She smiled sadly as
she watched him trace the letters spelling out Carmine’s name before looping
around to outline the heart. After they’d untangled themselves from each
other’s arms, Lyle had helped her down from the dresser and wordlessly led her
into the bathroom. She gave herself over to him, amazed at how he could set her
body on fire by the simple act of running a soapy sponge over her skin beneath
the hot spray of the shower. By the time she’d done the same to him, his eyes
were liquid pools of desire and his sex was straining proudly toward her, hard
and rampant once again. She hadn’t been able to resist him as he tugged her
from the shower and carried her back to the bed. After grabbing another condom
from her drawer, he sheathed himself and entered her from behind, pressing her
belly-down onto the sheets as he took her swiftly and urgently.

Her cheeks burned with the memory
now as she reclined against him in her bed. They were naked beneath the sheets,
their legs intertwined and her head on his chest.

“You don’t have to if it’s too
hard,” he said after a pregnant pause, his fingers circling her wrist gently
before he twined his fingers through hers.

“No,” she said, shifting a bit to
get more comfortable. “I don’t mind talking about Carmine. We were always
inseparable. Twins, you know.”

“Really? Who was older?”

Katrina smiled. “Me. Born three
minutes ahead. You couldn’t tear us apart, at least when we were kids. Mama
always said our birth order set the tone for our relationship. Carmine would
follow me anywhere. I didn’t mind, he was always such a sweet kid. Real
sensitive, you know? I was the tough one, always getting into fights.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

Katrina poked him in his side,
and he grunted, rubbing at the spot with a laugh. “Hey, for the first half of
our lives we lived with my mom in Brooklyn. It was a rough neighborhood, and
Carmine was always getting picked on. He liked to read and could sing. He was
so sensitive. I was always knocking heads together to protect him.”

“Where was your dad in all of
this?”

Katrina snorted and rolled her
eyes. “My mom left him a few years after we were born. She left a plushy condo
in Manhattan and moved us in with her mother when he refused to step away from
the business. Victor swore he was only doing it to make a life for us, but Mama
wouldn’t put us in danger. She’d been sucked in by Victor’s charm and good
looks when they met, but after a few years of living with the reality of who he
was and what he did, she’d had enough. He chose that life over her.”

“If your mother was anything like
you, he was a fool,” Lyle said absently, twirling a finger through one of her
curls.

Katrina smiled at the memory of
the woman who’d raised her. “Mama was better than me. She was the best person
I’ve ever known. She was also the most beautiful woman I ever saw; skin like
milk chocolate, wide, clear brown eyes, and a head full of soft, wavy hair. She
used to let me brush it, and I would always wish my hair was more like hers and
not so wild. But she never let me think I was anything less than perfect.”

“I like your wild hair,” Lyle
murmured against her temple before kissing her there.

“And she could sing.” Katrina
felt her voice catching and swiped at a tear pooling at the corner of one eye.
“If you think I’m good, you should have heard her. She had a voice that would
carry you from solid ground and straight into heaven. We used to sing together,
and Carmine would play the piano. My grandma said the only reason the neighbors
didn’t complain about the noise was because we sounded so good.”

“Sounds like you had a happy
childhood.”

Katrina frowned. “Those good
times were rare. Mama worked two jobs and our neighborhood wasn’t the best. She
spent a lot of time worrying that Carmine would become a drug dealer or join
some gang. She always worried I would attract the wrong kind of attention from
the boys on our block.”

“Must have been hard for her
alone.”

“She managed. At least, until the
day she was killed. Shot walking home from work. That woman never hurt anyone a
day in her life, and one day she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Some
petty little thugs fighting over a piece of street pulled out their guns and
she got caught in the crossfire. Carmine and I were twelve at the time.”

“Let me guess. Now’s when Victor
steps in.”

Katrina nodded. “I’ll give him
credit, he sent our Nona for us the minute my grandma called him. She offered
to keep us, but didn’t fight Victor when he said he wanted to take us. The way
she figured it, we weren’t any safer in Brooklyn than we were with Victor. At
least he had armed soldiers on guard twenty-four-seven. So we moved back to
Manhattan with him, and from then until we were adults, we had the best of
everything; clothes, drivers, private schools, protection, money.”

“And what about Victor? Was he a
good dad?”

“If being a good dad means giving
your kids everything except your time and affection, then sure. He was too busy
running his empire to tend to us. It wasn’t until we were old enough to
understand what he actually did that he started to take an interest, especially
in Carmine. He started molding Carmine to be like him. My brother started
dressing like Victor, walking, talking, and acting like Victor, anything he
could to prove he was a man.”

“Sounds like a typical young
man,” Lyle said. “I went through a similar phase with my father. Victor sounds
a lot like him actually. You know, except for the Mafia boss part.”

Katrina snorted. “I wish it had
been a phase, but the more Victor praised and rewarded him, the harder Carmine
tried to be like him. And soon, that sensitive boy got buried under an act. By
the end, I hardly recognized him. But then, I wasn’t doing too well either. You
know how it is; teenage girl, angry at daddy, does everything she can to
undermine him.”

“He deserved it.”

“He might have, but I was hurting
myself more than him. Drugs, drinking, partying . . . I was working as a
receptionist for Freedom Investments, which is basically a front for money
laundering. Victor was paying me a ridiculous salary to answer phones and
pretend not to know what was going on there. I spent my money on clothes,
shoes, and a bunch of other crap I didn’t need. When the thrill of that wore
off, I started on drugs. It started small; weed, ecstasy . . . when that got
boring, I hit the hard stuff.”

She felt Lyle stiffen and knew he
was looking down at the track marks on her left arm.

“It’s not a part of my life I’m
proud of,” she said, turning her arm over so he couldn’t see the scars, “but I
can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

Lyle grasped the limb and turned
it back over, tracing his fingers over the lines and pockmarks. “What made you
quit and get help?”

Katrina sniffled. “Carmine. He
went and died on me, then I had an overdose, and it snapped me out of the fog
I’d been living in. It’s ironic the way Victor almost got gunned down today
because it was pretty much exactly how Carmine was killed. This war with the
Pirellis has lasted a long time and claimed a lot of lives. I decided that I
wasn’t going to let it claim mine too. I checked myself into rehab a few weeks
after his funeral, and I’ve been clean since. I have at least a hundred
thousand in a bank account I haven’t touched in almost a year, and a condo no
one’s living in, in a much nicer part of town, but I refuse to go back. That
money is tainted with blood. I’d rather struggle working two jobs than go back
to that life. It was killing me slowly, and I didn’t even know it.”

Lyle grasped her shoulders and
turned her until she was facing him, her legs straddling his. “Two jobs?” his
eyebrows shot up. “You’re a busy girl.”

Katrina laughed, nestling into
his lap comfortably. “Well, there’s my glamorous gig at Parson’s . . . you
already know about that. I also teach guitar to kids at a community center in
the neighborhood. It pays pennies, but it’s worth it to see those kids so
excited about music.”

Lyle smiled down at her and
gripped her chin, tilting her head for a peck on the lips. “You are amazing, you
know that?”

Katrina clasped her hands behind
his neck and held on. “Are you kidding? You save lives. You touch human hearts
every day. Hell, I bet you just came from surgery.”

He nodded. “Yeah, one of the
goons from your father’s shootout came in with a GSW to the chest. I patched
him up right before I met you in the park.”

Katrina grabbed his hands and
held them up, spreading her fingers and placing her palms over his. “I find
that far more fascinating than strumming on a guitar.”

“Don’t underestimate the power of
strumming on a guitar. Most of the people in that cafeteria today will remember
you for what you did today far longer then they will me. You bring happiness
and music into people’s lives. It’s not a small thing.”

She smiled, surprised that anyone
could be so touched by what she did. “I’m glad you think so.”

“You’ve been through so much,” he
mused, staring absently at the bed sheets. “Makes me feel like what I thought
were the hard times in my life are so trivial.”

Katrina stroked his hair back from
his forehead. “Your struggle was your own. I wouldn’t trivialize it by
comparing it to mine. I bet it was hard for you, a boy with so much money and
so many things, with all the love and warmth stomped out of him. It’s no wonder
you don’t know how to have any fun.”

Lyle wrinkled his nose at her.
“Am I that pitiful?”

She shrugged. “I’m afraid so.”

“You’re right about me. I went
from being a child who didn’t know how to play, to a grown man who can’t loosen
up enough to sing a few lines in a karaoke bar. What can I say, my parents
didn’t tolerate foolishness. Everything I did was ordered and directed by them;
tennis lessons, violin, private schools. The only thing I ever did for myself
was choose medical school over law.”

“I bet Daddy was mad.”

Lyle snorted. “Oh yeah. He still
is. Mainly because I won’t apply for the stupid Chief of Surgery position.”

“That’s the romantic in you,” she
said with a smile. “The wild, rebellious Lyle just waiting to come out.”

He gripped her hips and pulled
her closer. His eyebrows shot up as his erection sprang to life between them,
nudging for entrance between her thighs. “I’ve never thought of myself as that
kind of guy, Katrina. But something about you makes me want to try to be.”

Heat flooded her instantly and
for the third time that night she found herself wanting more of this man.
Deciding that there was no reason to question it, Katrina rose up on her knees
and helped him don her last condom. She straddled Lyle and took him inside her,
smiling in satisfaction as his face melted into a blissful expression. She sank
down into his lap, and he filled her, completed her. She leaned down to taste
his lips.

“I have to say you’re off to a
damn good start,” she murmured.

_____

“This promises to be a very
interesting night.”

Lyle shot him a glare as Dan
turned down Katrina’s street, navigating his car toward her apartment. After
their passionate night together, he hadn’t wanted to leave. Of course, life
went on, but he’d spent as much time with her that week as he could, sneaking in
quick lunches between surgeries and stopping in at Parson’s in the evening to
hear her sing. There had even been one very steamy encounter in his office, one
that left him hot under the collar just thinking about it. In his many years of
working at Mount Sinai, he had never done something as thrilling as allowing a
woman to straddle him in his chair and give him the ride of his life. Even the
most complicated of surgeries couldn’t give him that thrill.

Now, Saturday evening had come,
and while Dan seemed to think bringing Katrina to his parents’ cocktail party
was asking for trouble, Lyle couldn’t care less. He only knew that he would
much rather skip the whole thing altogether and investigate a fantasy he’d been
toying with all week. He’d gotten this idea in his head, and now he couldn’t
stop thinking of how Katrina would look in his pool, beneath the moon shining
down through his skylight. He shifted on the passenger seat as Dan pulled to a
stop, his mind drifting over thoughts of caramel skin shimmering wet and kissed
with a pale glow . . .

“I say you’re just asking for
trouble.”

Lyle shook his head and fought to
calm his racing blood. “What was that, Dan? I’m sorry, I tuned out when you
started talking like a jackass.”

Dan snorted and adjusted his
black bow tie—he knew as well as Lyle that at his mother’s house, “small
cocktail party” meant black tie and best behavior. “Fine, I’ll shut up about
it. I know I told you to enjoy this thing you’ve got going with Katrina. And I
like her, I really do. But bringing her around your parents is like feeding her
to the sharks.”