Rough Stuff (Dirty Bad Things Book 3)

  “What is wrong with you!”

  She whirls, green eyes blazing fire and her hair like molten lava around her fuming face.

  God damn she’s beautiful. And fiery. And so fucking full of sass it makes me want to tie her down and silence her with my lips on hers.

  Easy, buddy.

  “Shush,” I hiss fiercely. She goes quiet, even if she’s still glaring death at me.

  “What are we doing out here?” she mutters.

  “Any cameras in the house?”

  Her face pales for a second before she quickly shakes her head.

  “No. I mean, yes, but not when the alarm system is disarmed.”

  I exhale slowly, feeling my muscles uncoil just a little bit.

  “What in the hell were you doing at a sex club last night?” I growl.

  She narrows her eyes at me. “None of your damn business.”

  “I think it is very fucking much my business now, don’t you think?” I spit back.

  She glares at me petulantly. “Well what the hell were you doing lurking around alleyways last night!”

  “Saving your bratty ass.”

  Her lips purse tight, and when our eyes lock again, I know we’re both thinking the same thing that neither of us is going to say out loud.

  Saving your bratty ass and giving you the fucking of a lifetime.

  “You— you can’t tell Gino,” Quinn whispers quietly, her cheeks turning red at I’m sure the same memory I’ve got in my head.

  “Oh, I can’t? Well shit Quinn, there goes my small talk with the boss for the day.”

  She gives me a sarcastic smile before she looks away.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Not say anything?”

  She nods. “Yeah, that…” She nods again before she glances back at me. “Yeah I think that’s a good idea.”

  “I’m supposed to bring you to him.”

  She frowns. “When?”

  “Now.”

  Her lip catches between her teeth. She starts to slide out of the backseat and out of the car when I stop her.

  “I said now.”

  “Can I change first?” she snaps, gesturing down at her white t-shirt and cut-off jean shorts. My eyes linger on the bruises dotting her thighs.

  …Bruises about the same size as my thumbs. Actually, I’m willing to be they’re the exact same size as my thumbs. Fuck, I left a mark — my goddamn fingerprints all over her skin along with my cum deep inside her pussy. My cock lurches at the memory of her screaming into my lips again, but I shove it aside.

  “Yeah, you can go change.”

  “Oh thank you so much.” She gives me that same sassy, sarcastic grin before she slips past me and trots back up the stairs to the big house.

  …What the fuck did I get myself into?

  Chapter 3

  Quinn

  Oh holy shit.

  My pulse roars, my skin tingling as I dash upstairs to my bedroom. Even though Roman’s stayed outside by the SUV, I still slam the door to the room shut behind me, sinking against it as if to stop him from crashing on through.

  …Even if the idea of him doing exactly that sets my core on fire.

  None of this feels real. It feels like some sort of insane dream, like going to school naked or all of your teeth falling out. Or in this case, the one-time, hot as fuck fling you had with the rough, dangerous, gorgeous man who took me exactly how I wanted, against the brick wall of an alleyway turning out to be your new bodyguard. Yeah, a nightmare.

  I almost can’t believe it’s real. Any of it. But then, the way my body aches so good is definitely real. The way my heart pounds in my chest thinking of it, and knowing that the man who made my body melt for him is waiting right downstairs.

  Temptation. Wicked, filthy, oh-so-dirty temptation. For a flashing second, part of me imagines calling him up here. I blush at the thought, my body shivering heatedly. I mean, the camera’s are off. No one’s home. All of Gino’s household staff are off. My mind wanders to him storming up the stairs, breaking the door down, pinning me to the bed and tearing my clothes off. I imagine him tying me up with my own panties, running his big cock up and down my eager pussy before driving in hard and fucking me so damn good, like he did last night.

  Get. Ahold. Of. Yourself.

  I swallow the heat from my face, squeezing my thighs as another wave of something hot and tingling teases though my core. Okay, they were dark fantasies before, these thoughts of being taken and just fucked hard. But damn if there isn’t something about him — about Roman — that makes them burn to the surface. It’s like he pulls those filthy, dirty, hidden fantasies out of me, until I’m going crazy for more.

  But I quickly shake my head, scattering those thoughts. No. No fucking way. What happened last night was dangerous enough with Gino being who he is. But that the man who drove me wild is Roman? Gino’s employee? My bodyguard? Oh, hell no. I’ve seen Gino mad. Mad is him smacking me and telling me to shut up. I’ve seen him pissed. Pissed is having two of this goons hold a guy down while he pistol-whips the guy’s face into pulp.

  But this? No, this would be something else entirely. Even with our arrangement, even with our “marriage” being, well, not really a marriage, this would be bad.

  No, this would be fatal.

  So I shove those filthy thoughts of mine away as I quickly strip my clothes off. I showered last night, remembering his hands on me. But when I glance at the large mirror in my room, my face turns red at what I see.

  Marks. Bruises in the shape of fingers on my thighs, my hips. Delicious bruises, ones that remind me of everything from the night before and of his amazing hands on my body. I turn away quickly, pulling on a sleeveless top and a long, dark skirt that swishes past my knees. It’s not like Gino would ever see the bruises that high up on my thighs. I mean, we sleep in different rooms, to say the least. And I want to tell Roman the whole story about that, because I can see the look in his eyes, and I hate what I see in it.

  I don’t want him to see me like that, because that's not what I am. Not in the sense he’s thinking it, with knowing I’m Gino’s. Technically speaking. I see that look and I know he’s thinking I’m just some “kept” woman going out to cheat on her husband. Except it's not cheating with Gino. It’s just breaking our contract.

  …It’s complicated.

  “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was last night?”

  Roman’s waiting for me at the front door. He’s moved the ladder to one side, but I notice the bulb’s been replaced in the hanging fixture.

  “Yeah, I know,” I snap, brushing past him for my purse on the side table.

  “That place is dangerous,” he growls. “That was so completely fucking irresponsible—”

  “Are you lecturing me?”

  His eyes narrow, and I watch his strong, bearded jaw clench. “Yeah I am.”

  “Well thanks, but I don’t need your peanut-gallery input.”

  “Oh, so just my cock fucking you against a brick wall in a dark alley, huh?”

  I whirl, my jaw dropping in shock. “Shush!”

  “No cameras in here I thought.” He smirks.

  “Let’s go.”

  I whirl and reach for the front door. Roman gets there first, swinging it wide for me and dramatically gesturing me out. I flip him off as I breeze past. I don’t even know why I’m acting like a petulant brat. Maybe it’s the fear of Gino. Maybe it’s that Roman brings out all sorts of blazing heat inside of me, and if I can’t jump him, this is how it comes out.

  “So are you going to tell me what the hell were you doing there?”

  “I told you,” I snap as we trot back down the steps to the Escalade in the driveway. The same stairs he just carried me down over his shoulder in this insanely hot caveman way that I’m trying so hard not to think about.

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “It’s literally my business as of today,” he mutters.

  “So yesterday is none of your
concern, is it?”

  God, he’s infuriatingly alpha and dominant, but in this way that gets my blood pumping hot. In a way that makes me want more. Roman opens the back door of the Escalade for me, but I ignore him as I stroll around to the other side of the SUV.

  “I’m sitting in the front.”

  “No,” he grumbles out, coming around the other side. “You’re sitting in the back.”

  “Well I don’t want to sit in the back. This isn’t Driving Miss Daisy.”

  “No shit,” he mutters. “She was way less of a pain in the fucking ass.”

  I bite my lip to hold back the grin.

  “Look,” he says evenly. “It’s my job to do it like this, so get that sweet little ass in the car. Now.”

  “Make me.”

  Something sparks in his eyes, and I almost gasp out loud at the fierceness that blazes across his face. He takes a step towards me, and I can feel my legs clenching tight, my nipples hardening under my light top and my panties instantly getting wet. That look is the same raw, primal fire I saw in his eyes last night, and holy fuck do I want more of it.

  “Quinn,” he growls. “Get in the car!”

  “Make m—” I gasp as he moves into me suddenly, pushing me right up against the side of the SUV and sending my heart into my throat. His lips brush my ear as he leans in close, and my heart races as his hands tighten on my waist.

  “Let’s get something straight,” his deep baritone purrs into my ear, turning my core to jelly. “You’re going to do what I say.”

  “Oh yeah?” I try to sass it out but it barely comes out as a gasp, my voice heavy with heat.

  “Oh, yeah, you are,” Roman rumbles into my ear. “Because I know your dirty little secret. I could tell Gino exactly what his pretty young wife was up to last night.”

  My jaw drops as I pull back, staring at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Wouldn’t I?”

  “He’d kill you.”

  Roman smiles. “Well, I guess we could find out now couldn’t we?”

  I swallow thickly, eyeing him before my lips curl into a smile. “Or maybe,” I purr. “Maybe I tell Gino what you did to me last night?”

  Roman doesn’t even flinch.

  “Maybe you should. Maybe you should tell him exactly how I fucked you hard against a wall, your soaked panties around your ankles and your tight little pussy gripping my thick cock so eagerly as your cum dripped down my balls.”

  I whimper. Goddamnit, I actually whimper out loud.

  “Maybe,” he groans, leaning close to my ear again. “Maybe we could tell him how you licked my big cock clean with that dirty little tongue of yours, my cum still leaking out of your little pussy.”

  Oh fuck.

  I moan as he pushes close to me. His big, muscled body presses against me, pinning me to the side of the SUV. And I can feel him. Fuck, he’s so hard, and when he moves into me, I can feel his cock throb against my thigh.

  “Maybe we tell him that you got the fucking of your life last night and now it’s just never going to be as good.”

  I gasp, my jaw dropping indignantly even if my whole body shivers at his words. Even if he’s right.

  “Oh is that what you think?”

  “That’s what I know, sweetheart. Now get in the car.”

  Our eyes lock. My breath catches. My knees shake a little bit and my panties cling wetly to me. Finally, I pull my eyes away. Roman moves half a step back, and I push past him, moving to the back door, which he opens for me.

  “I still don’t need your lectures, by the way,” I mutter at him.

  “Well it was still stupid for you to be there last night.”

  I climb into the car and turn to glare at him, standing there holding the door. “I knew exactly what I was doing at a sex club, thank you very much.” I smile thinly at him, and his face clouds with something dark.

  “Yeah? And who else did you fuck last night?”

  My palm connects with his cheek before I can even think, slapping him before I yank it back and gasp in horror.

  “I— oh, fuck, I’m sorry.”

  Roman’s jaw tightens, his face turned away from me before he slowly turns back to me. His eyes flash that sinfully hot fire, like they did earlier and like they did last night, but he doesn’t make any moves. He doesn’t hit me back, like I know Gino would.

  “We’re going to be late.”

  He slams the door shut, and my breath comes out in a whoosh. My pulse races, and I can hear it thundering in my ears.

  There was that fire again.

  And now I just want more of it.

  Chapter 4

  Roman

  “Roman, my boy.”

  Gino smiles that shark grin of his as he stands from his table. We’re at The Venetian — this eye-rollingly tacky Italian restaurant that Gino owns and does a lot of his business out of. Business like meetings and handshakes, and business like executing people in the basement.

  He turns and looks at Quinn, who’s gone from the sassy firebrand I’ve been dealing with to this meek, plastic-smiled little Stepford mob-wife in his presence. I feel something black welling up inside of me, an anger I only quench by digging my nails into my palm. I’ve seen looks like that before on women around the dangerous, mean men they’re married to. Women with a look like Quinn has on right now have been hit by men like Gino.

  “How about you go on upstairs and get somethin’ to eat, huh baby?”

  Quinn frowns. “I thought we were having lunch?”

  “We are. You’re eating upstairs in my office like I just fuckin’ told you to do, and I’m eating it down here with some associates of mine.” He smiles that same completely unsmiling smile at her again, and I can feel my rage boiling inside. “Now get.”

  Quinn’s eyes flicker with something dangerous for a second, before she just shrugs and nods, turning and stepping out of the mostly empty dining room of the closed restaurant.

  Gino makes a tsking sound with his teeth as he sits back down at the table.

  “Sit, sit.” He gestures to the seat across the red and white checked tablecloth from him.

  I sit.

  “So how was she?”

  For a second, my gut drops through the fucking floor before I catch myself.

  He doesn’t know. Obviously he doesn’t.

  My jaw twitches as I meet his gaze evenly. “Just fine, Gino.”

  He chuckles, stabbing at a veal parmesan with his fork. “She’s a fuckin’ wildcat, that one. She’s got claws.”

  “I wouldn’t know, boss.”

  Yes I would. And I do. I’ve got her claw marks down my back. I’ve got the memory of her lips wrapping around my cock seared into my brain.

  Gino smiles at me again, his eyes darting over mine like he’s looking for a weak spot — a place to sink a dagger into. But, he’s not going to find shit with me. I’ve seen too much, been through too much to let a Goodfellas wannabe like this jackass get through my armor.

  It’s funny how you never leave what you want to leave. My two best friends — Gray and Dylan — and I all grew up in this crooked town. We saw the mafia shit that friends of ours would succumb to and we vowed to get out. We even joined the Marines together to do it. We did a couple of tours, we saw the world, saw hell, and grew armor we never knew we could have. But then we go back, and, well, maybe destiny isn’t ours to change.

  My cousin Tony was a longtime enforcer for Gino. And when I got back, and was still all fucked up from war and looking for work, he set me up. It was easy at first — just running security for card games and shit like that. But then you just get deeper. Soon enough you’re smacking people around because they owe money. Soon enough your carrying a gun around.

  I’d had better hopes for Gray and Dylan. I mean, those two had the smarts to get out if they could. Hell, they’d even gone to law school before we joined up — Gray finishing even if Dylan dropped out. But after we got back from the Marines, Gray got sucked back in too. His old man had been
a lawyer for Gino, and, well, there you go. Like I said, it’s easy at first, and then suddenly you’re sucked in deep. Gray’s making a mint doing it, but I know it’s eating him up. Likewise with Dylan. He should be going back to law school to finish. Instead, he’s running errands and packing a gun for the Moretti’s.

  Well, he was. That’s a whole other story. A few weeks back, Dylan was running protection on some money truck of Gino’s. The drive went bad, and there was a robbery, and now the Moretti’s are treating Dylan like it’s his fault. Luckily, he’s not dead, and it doesn’t look like they’re going to actually kill him at all.

  The bad news though? They’re making him pay it off in trade. See, Gino’s dirtbag nephew, Nico, just started this porn studio, and it looks like our buddy Dylan is going to be his first star.

  …Better than taking a bullet through the forehead, but still. Anyways though, that’s another whole story.

  Gino eyes me another second before he sits back, smiling, like he’s satisfied.

  “You hungry?”

  “I’m good, boss.”

  “Suit yourself.” He turns and snaps at one of his guys standing across the room, who immediately comes over.

  “I changed my mind. Go get my wife upstairs and bring her down. She’s eating with me.”

  “You got it boss.” The man hurries away and Gino nods. “How about you go have a drink at the bar. You’ll take her home when we’re done here.”

  How about isn’t really a suggestion in this case. I nod, standing and moving across the empty restaurant to the bar, perching on a stool as the errand guy comes back in with Quinn following. She glances at me, just for a split second, before she takes a seat across from Gino. The errand guy sets a plate of food down in front of her and backs away.

  My temper flares, and my jaw clenches as I watch her sitting there having lunch with that old prick. Gino. Fuck, man. The guy’s a psychopath. And cruel, and he’s got a mean fucking temper. He’s also ludicrously older than her, and not in that good looking older guy, silver fox kinda way. No, Gino looks like a man who’s gorged himself on pasta and expensive wine for the last forty years. Because he has.