Hunter (23 page)

I ran down the stairs after her, my footsteps pounding against the exposed wooden boards. The sound carried through the house, and I knew she'd heard, because she shrieked out a laugh as she disappeared into the kitchen in a whirl of dark hair.

I went after her and found her standing behind the kitchen island, her hands flattened on it, and a look of playfulness in her eyes. Her hair had all but worked its way loose from the braid, and it was sticking up and out every way possible.

“Whatcha doin',
bella
?”

“Nothing.” She smiled coquettishly. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” I stepped to the left and she did the same thing. Another, and she moved, too. I ran several steps and she did, too, giggling. “Why are you running?”

“Why are you?” She fired back.

“I like running.”

“Maybe I do, too.” She ran her pink tongue across her top lip in one slow sweep. “Love it.”

“Don't play with me, Adriana.”

“Playing is exactly what I have in mind, Carlo.”

My cock pushed against my boxers, stretching the fabric. “I don't play.”

“You should try it sometime. It's fun.”

I darted to the side, and she did, too, but I feinted and changed course quickly. I snatched her into my arms before she could get away. I smiled as I pulled her face into mine and dropped my mouth to hers. My hand slid down her back, cupped her tight ass, and slammed her hips into mine. “I don't you I don't play,” I whispered against her mouth.

“We don't have time for your shit,” she breathed, dragging her fingertips up my back.

I shivered. Fuck, it felt so good. “We have five minutes. If you haven't come all over my cock by then, I'll admit defeat.”

“Finishing fast isn't something to—shit!” she squeaked when I slapped her ass. “Brag about,” she finished.

“It's not a fast finish if a quickie is what I'm aiming for. Now shut up and let me fuck you fast.”

I kissed her before she could fight again, and she melted into me, even as I pinned her against the kitchen wall. Our tongues battled as we kissed, and she moaned when my hand trailed up her thigh. My thumb brushed her soft panties and she bucked her hips against me.

I grinned.

“Bastard,” she moaned.

I tugged her panties down her legs, kissing down her stomach and thigh as I did. She stepped out of them and my hand immediately slipped between her legs. She was wet, and one of my fingers eased inside her smoothly, so I added a second. She moaned and tilted her hips toward me, pulling my fingers deeper inside her. I rubbed my thumb over her clit and moved my hand quickly.

I watched her as she approached pleasure. Her eyes closed, her dry lips parted, and a single drop of sweat beaded and ran down the elegant curve of her neck.

She's beautiful.

I grasped her legs and hooked them over my hips, moving into her so she was steady. Her gasp was music to my ears right as the end of my cock brushed against her wet slit.

It took me two seconds to push my dick inside her.

It was harsh. I wanted her. I needed her.

She wound her fingers in my hair as her other hand gripped my shoulder as she tried to still herself against the force of my thrusts. She was so fucking wet and tight around me. Her pussy hugged my cock perfectly—like a fucking glove.

I hissed out a breath when she clenched around me. Fuck. Fucking fuck, fuck. I slammed into her, unapologetic in my desire for her, to make her come in mere minutes. She deserved more, she deserved exploration and reverence, not a quick screw against the ball, but she hadn't argued, so if she wanted it, I'd give it to her.

I did.

She took it.

She screamed, clenched, cried, came. My dick throbbed as her wet pussy squeezed it, and I pumped several more times as she rode her orgasm out. Mine finally hit with the tightening of my balls and a wash of heat.

“You win,” she breathed, dropping her face forward onto my shoulder. “You definitely win.”

I laughed low and kissed the side of her neck. “Told you.”

The next sound was unintelligible, but I pulled out of her and lowered her to the floor. She exhaled loudly, then bent down and picked up her underwear.

“We really need to go shopping,” she finished on a sigh. “You're breaking all my panties.”

Better the panties than her heart.

I cut him a dark look. “Try not to be a dick.”

“I'm not a dick.” Hunter stared out of the window. “But just so you know, they want to kill me.”

I rolled my eyes and pressed the button that opened my window. “Hey,” I said as soon as it opened enough. “Adriana Romano to see Gemma Gardarelli.”

The guard checked his iPad, sliding his finger up and across the screen. “Look, please.”

I looked at him, and he held the tablet up against my face.

“Finger.”

It was like fucking border control.

I pressed my forefinger against the square that was lit, then waited.

The guard paused for a long moment. “Ms. Romano, you're cleared for entry. The driveway is the first on your left. You'll be greeted there.” He handed me a slip of paper that I took with hesitance.

“Thank you... Roy,” I said, glancing at his name badge.

He looked pleased I'd noticed.

I flashed him a smile as I turned down the main road of the community. It took only two minutes to read the Gardarelli house, and Hunter looked as miserable as ever.

“Why didn't he take my details?” he asked as I pulled up.

“Because I'm a fucking princess, and I guess they assumed you lick my shoes clean or some shit.” I grinned as I got out of the car and met the eyes of Rosa, the Gardarelli housekeeper. She was small, barely five feet tall, but the sweetest, happiest lady I'd ever met. “Miss Rosa!” I exclaimed. I guessed good manners never left you. “You haven't aged a day, ma'am!”

“Oh, stop it!” she laughed, holding her arms out wide. “Princess, you are gorgeous. Mrs. Gardarelli is excited to see you.” She glanced over my shoulder as I hugged her. “And who is your handsome friend?”

I peered back. “Miss Rosa, meet Carlo Rosso. Carlo, this is Mrs. Rosa Sanchez, the Gardarellis lady in shining armor.”

“Oh, stop.” She blushed, swatting at me.

“Mrs. Sanchez.” Carlo took her hand and kissed the back of it. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

I glanced between them as Rosa straightened. “Your charm is wasted, Mr. Rosso. Save it for Mrs. Gardarelli.” She waggled her finger at him before she took my hand and gave my fingers a squeeze. “Come now, princess. Let's get you safe inside.” She patted my hand.

I poked my tongue out at Hunter.

Childish, I knew, but whatever.

I let Miss Rosa lead me up the drive and toward the doorway of the house. The gravel crunched under Hunter's feet, and he joined me as Miss Rosa pulled a key from her pocket and motioned for me to wait. She shot a final dark look at Hunter, and he shuffled closer to me.

“Told you they hate me,” he muttered.

“That's because you're a
stronzo
,” I whispered back, using the Italian for asshole.

He snorted, but he didn't argue. He couldn't. He knew as well as I did that he was an asshole.

Miss Rosa opened the front door and motioned for us to follow her. Her tiny heels clicked against the tiled floor as she lead us down a long, spacious hallway to a mahogany door. I didn't recognize the man standing guard outside with a gun strapped over his shoulder, but he eyed Hunter closely when we stopped.

I could feel his hatred, and he wasn't even looking at me.

I glanced at Hunter and he was returning the man's gaze. They knew each other, that much was clear, and clearly well enough to hate each other on sight. I made a mental note to ask him about it when we left.

“Ms Romano and Mr. Rosso to see you, ma'am,” Miss Rosa said softly, bowing her head. “You can go in,” she said to us. She gave Hunter one final glare before she disappeared.

Wow. He really wasn't popular here.

“Adriana!” Gemma Gardarelli put down the book she'd been holding and stood. Her well-fitting pantsuit hugged her body the way a good suit should, and her dark blond hair rested in perfect, smooth waves on her shoulders. “Look at you,
cara
.” She embraced me gently and kissed each of my cheeks. “Just like your mother.”

“Thank you. You look well,” I said, meaning it.

She inclined her head graciously, a smile touching her dark red lips. It dropped slightly as she turned to face Hunter. “Carlo. How lovely to see you again.”

“No, it isn't.” He smirked.

“Oh, thank goodness for that. I was hoping I wouldn't have to pretend to enjoy your presence.” She sighed happily. “Eli, shut the door. Carlo won't be killing me today.”

“Come on, Gemma. You know I didn't mean to try to kill you,” Hunter said, walking through the room and taking a seat. He glanced at her book. “Really?”

“There's nothing wrong with the book, Carlo. Sex can have a storyline.” She snatched it from his grip and slid it onto a shelf behind her. “And yes, it may well have been a mistake, but the fact remains, you did almost kill me.”

He waved his hand.

“How do you accidentally try to kill someone?” I asked. I was really confused now.

Gemma peered at me sideways. “He was here for a hit on an associate who'd been double-crossing us with the Mancini's. He was messing with the Benitez Cartel, also. The hit wasn't a problem. The fact someone declined to share his arrival with us... Not so much. My bookcase hasn't recovered from the bullet.”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “I was working on Enzio's orders. You knew I couldn't tell you in case someone had us under surveillance and tipped the
pezzo di merda
off.”

“Mmm.” Her lips quirked up. “And I see you're following his latest orders to the tee, aren't you? She looks very much alive to me.”

“What can I say? Sometimes I like to ignore his shit.”

“Hello, I am here, you know.” I waved a hand. “Gemma, I don't mean to rush this, but I don't know how much time we have.”

“Ah, yes. Eli told me you entered the complex yesterday. Sit down and tell me what's happening.” She pointed to the chair next to Hunter's and sat down herself.

I gave her a brief run down of what'd happened since Hunter had arrived in his own deathly style, right through Isaiah showing up yesterday and the subsequent shoot out. A lump formed in my throat as I said I hadn't spoken to either him or Darien, although I couldn't care any less about Isaiah.

She remained stony-faced through the whole story, and her facade only cracked when I mentioned Darien. She took a deep breath and touched two fingers to her lips, nodding slowly as I explained we needed to get across the country undetected.

“Eli! Will you please come in here?” she called, looking toward the door.

It opened and the man who was guarding it walked in. At least I knew his name now.

Gemma smiled. “Please contact Armo Pontarelli. Tell him that Adriana Romano is safe and ask whether he's had contact with Darien Donato. If he's alive and well, give him one of the spare cellphone numbers to call Adriana on.”

“Of course.” Eli nodded once before he disappeared again.

I tried to ignore the twisting of my stomach when she said 'if he's alive.' He had to be alive—Darien had to be. I refused to believe any differently. He couldn't die on me, so he was alive, and that was the end of it.

Hunter reached over and squeezed my hand. Concern flickered in his eyes, so I forced a small smile, then took a deep breath to center myself.

I couldn't break down. I had to stay strong and determined, keep my eyes on the end goal.

Gemma reached over to the table and picked up a box. She tapped out a long, white cigarette, and offered the box to us. We both shook our heads, so she set it down and lit her smoke. “So,” she said on a plume of gray smoke. “Tell me how we can help you.”

“I don't know how to get to Enzio.” I paused on the admission. I'd never really thought of it like that before. “I don't know how to get from here to there, or who I can trust.”

“Yet here you are.”

“Mamma trusted you with her life. If she did, I can.”

She tapped some ash into a crystal glass ashtray and slowly met my eyes. They were the most startling indigo blue, like the night sky right before darkness completely falls, and the power her gaze wielded was unparalleled. Even as she lifted the cigarette to her lips and took a long drag, she didn't look away.

I didn't either.

I knew what she was thinking. She was wondering if I was half the woman my mother was, if I had her soul. She could look, but my soul would never come close to Mamma's. It was wholly my own, although highly influenced by her, so I'm not entirely sure exactly what Gemma was looking for.

“Your mother couldn't hold my gaze,” she said quietly, then dragged on the cigarette again. “Not for long. She said my eyes scared the shit out of her. Yet here you are. Looking at me. Unmoving.”

“Maybe she was smarter than I am,” I offered.

“Maybe. Or maybe you're stronger than you think.” She broke the gaze and then stubbed out the cig. “I will help you. Tell me what you need.”

“I need to switch cars every few hundred miles in case we're being followed. I need help to plot a route from here to the Hamptons, and I need two places to stay on the road. They don't have to be fancy, and I have enough cash for us to survive on,” I reeled off, each thought flowing into my mind. “And someone inside. If you can get someone that can help us get in, that would be amazing.”

“Consider it done.” She pulled a second cigarette out of the box and held it between two fingers, unlit, as she rested her elbow on the arm of the chair. “Eli!” she yelled.

“Yes, ma'am?” Eli appeared as if by magic.

“Make a note of this,” she demanded before focusing back on me. “I'll arrange for you to have a credit card so you don't exhaust your cash reserves in the case of an emergency. You can pay us back when your father is dead.” Her lips twitched on one side. “Cars will be set up for collection approximately every three hundred miles, and I will have you a room booked in motels close to service stations. You shouldn't need more than two overnight stops.” She nodded at Eli, and he disappeared as quickly as he just entered the room. “Give me three hours and you'll have everything you need, including hopefully, word from Darien.”