Smoke: The Carelli Family Saga, Book One Page 2

  Smoke Carelli was a dangerous man. That much I’d figured out for myself. I knew about his family and the family business they were in. It was his life and the danger in his line of work kept him from wanting more from me.

  There were little pieces that were mine. Pieces of him that no one else got. And even if I did want all of them—which I didn’t, of course I didn’t, it was only the little pieces Smoke would ever give me.

  That was the problem.

  I wasn’t a little pieces kind of woman.

  And I’d never let my son want less than he deserved either. His father never cared enough to want anything to do with Mateo. No matter how good Smoke was to us, I couldn’t let him do the same to my son. Problem was, he was an addiction. Every time I swore I’d stay away, he’d kiss me or touch me and I’d come right back.

  Every single time.

  He barely moved when I wiggled from his heavy arm and slipped away from the warmth of his large body. I wouldn’t stay all night like I normally did. Smoke probably wouldn’t notice anyway.

  The floorboards creaked when I shimmied my jeans over my thighs and I jerked, half-turning and pulling away from Smoke’s grip on my arm as he reached for me.

  “Where are you going?”

  He was so long and tall he didn’t have to do more than stretch an arm toward me to keep me still. All that beautiful olive skin was on display—those corded muscles twisting as he brushed his fingers over my shoulders.

  “I—” My mouth wouldn’t work. Not when Smoke stifled a yawn and played it off with his fingers scrubbing through his thick, black hair. There was a tempting scruff of stubble along his chin. Despite knowing I needed to tell him my plans to move to the city, there was an overwhelming sensation to rub that scruff over my bare breasts.

  “Bella?” he said, moving his head as though he started to worry about why I was gawking at him while standing half-dressed in my jeans and unhooked bra. His attention went straight to my nipples when my black bra slipped off one shoulder, then Smoke leaned up, resting on an elbow as he pulled me toward him with a hand curled around my waist. “Get back in bed.” His voice was deep, raspy from sleep. That sound alone could make a teasing throb pulse between my thighs. Smoke knew it, seeming to use it to his advantage when I hesitated. “Maggie,” he whispered, saying my name like it was a filthy word only he got to use. This time his voice going deeper, his mouth right against my naked breast as he pushed my bra to the floor. “You don’t wanna leave me. Not yet.”

  “I…hmm…I should go.” I curled against him, moving my fingers into his hair as he pulled my nipple between his lips. “Mierda…” There were warning shouts firing in my head. But Smoke Carelli was kissing me, again… touching me, again… and it felt good. It felt so damn good.

  “You taste so sweet, bellissima…”

  “We…shouldn’t do this…” I tried, but didn’t push him away, not when the suction on my breast tightened or when Smoke came to his knees to run his hands down the back of my thighs and to pull my jeans off completely.

  “No,” he said, a laugh muddling the agreement. “You’re right.” He kissed me then, tugging my head up with his fingers moving at the back of my hair. “I shouldn’t be doing any of this, should I?” His kiss was deep, all teeth and tongue, leaving me breathless and punch drunk. “Or this?” Then Smoke moved me, tangling my legs around his hips, turning us. I went flat against the mattress and he settled my leg against his chest.

  “What…are you…”

  “Since you won’t let me sleep and you think you’re going to run out on me in the middle of the night,” he started, pushing on my free leg, stroking a finger along the inside of my thigh, “then I’m going to have to find something else to occupy my time.”

  When he wanted something—anything—the man wasn’t above fighting dirty. Right then, Smoke was the dirtiest. He moved his hand up, that wide thumb brushing against my pussy, his smile freezing as he slipped his finger inside me.

  “Still wet?” The rasp in his voice sounded a little desperate now.

  I swallowed, still torn about telling him my plan. I could only nod, my attention frozen on his face.

  His gaze slipped lower as he watched his fingers moving inside me. “This, this is a good way to occupy my time.”

  “It…is…” My breath grew ragged, uneven and that weak fight inside my head tittered closer to the side that told me to forget any fight, any lingering notion that this thing between was leading nowhere, and to just enjoy myself.

  But doing that, forgetting what would happen tomorrow, next week, or next year would do me no favors. It wouldn’t get me any further than where I’d been when I found myself stranded in this tiny town. “Smoke…we can’t…we have to stop this.”

  He paused, his gaze moving to my face for half a second before he laughed. Smoke leaned over me, still touching me, watching my face closely even as he smiled.

  “I’m serious…” I tried, but my words came out in a breathless, needy whimper when he pushed two fingers inside me.

  “You don’t sound serious.”

  “I…” Am, I told myself. That’s what I meant to say. I. Am. But Smoke slipped his fingers away from me, then slid his body over me and just like that, I forgot what I was supposed to be serious about.

  Tomorrow, I told myself, holding onto those soft, lush sheets as Smoke moved his mouth on me, his tongue inside me, my legs over his shoulders.

  Tomorrow I’ll be stronger. Tomorrow I’ll tell him we have to stop this.

  2

  Smoke

  I loved to watch the woman walk.

  Maggie had a swing to her hips, a little swagger I haven’t ever seen from anybody else. Every night since she took the last shift in my folks’ restaurant, it was that swing and those luscious hips that kept me at my office window, looking out onto the parking lot waiting for her to leave just to catch a look at her walk.

  Tonight, she didn’t disappoint.

  The Jamaican kid she was training took too long resetting the trays for the morning crew, so Maggie was later to leave than normal. But I still waited, sipping on an espresso as I stood watching the cars pulling out of the lot. The walk I spotted first, that twisting little sway, the small curve between her back and her thick, perfect ass.

  Shit, was it sweet to watch.

  She waved the new kid off, not bothering to do more than move two fingers in his direction as she headed to her car a little slower like the night had taken some of the swagger from her movements.

  Maybe she was just tired. That would be my fault.

  Twice this week I’d convinced her to come to me. Twice she didn’t hesitate and fuck me if I couldn’t get enough of her.

  Seems like I never could.

  From that first night I spotted her out on the snowy street, something told me Maggie Ramirez would get to me. Like she was now. I was different with her. She did something I couldn’t explain and wasn’t sure I liked.

  Couldn’t say I hated it much either.

  Fuck me, what the hell was wrong with me?

  She paused, holding her door open, turning when my mother called after her. Maggie pushed a wide, forced smile over her mouth. It had been half a year since that snowy Christmas night. I’d had her a hundred different times, knew every inch of that beautiful body, been around her enough to tell when she was tired, when she was pissed off, when she was weary. I could make out when she was pretending, trying to fake nice. It had become part of her job at the restaurant. Requirements she set for herself for asshole customers— faking a sweet response to idiotic demands or a grin to rude comments and right then, she was giving my ma a sweet, but fake ass smile.

  The half-drunk mug got abandoned as I put it on the window ledge, moving closer to watch. My mother walked toward Maggie, holding a brown shopping bag in her hand. Had to be something for the kid. Ma was always buying the boy something.

  We all were, no matter how many times Maggie asked us not to. Couldn’t help it. The boy, just
like his mama, had wormed himself into our lives. There wasn’t much any of us wouldn’t do for him.

  Maggie had to know that by now.

  Which was why the forced smile and head shake she gave my mother bothered me.

  Seemed to bother my ma as well.

  It was the first time I’d ever seen Maggie refuse anything from the woman.

  First time, in fact, I’d seen anyone do that.

  But she did.

  Leaving my mother frowning and a little hurt, if the look on her face was anything to go by.

  But Angelique Carelli was a proud woman. She wouldn’t beg. She’d plan, and with one stiff nod, she urged Maggie into her car and watched the woman drive away.

  We both stared until she made a left two blocks away, then I caught my mother’s gaze. I shot back the nod she gave me, catching her meaning the second she sent it to me.

  What the hell was that?

  I didn’t know, but I had my guesses.

  The vibration of my cell against my desk pulled my attention from my mother and I moved from the window to grab it. The work I was in—the gray area kind of business as my old man called it—didn’t keep normal business hours. And there was never bullshit disputes that ended with me letting workers go or docking people’s pay. I should be so lucky.

  This kind of work required more…finesse and a fuck-ton more irritation.

  “Fucking Mickey Finney,” I said to no one, reading the message the dock manager sent, followed in rapid succession by four more.

  There was no firing anyone when the competition decided to use my shipment like his own personal fucking store.

  And that was all Finney was--competition.

  He wanted to be more. He thought he could be more than a nuisance by taking what he wanted from me.

  I’d have to teach him a lesson.

  “Dino,” I called to the cracked-opened door, throwing my cell down as I slumped into my chair.

  “Boss?” my man said, peeling into my office to fill most of the doorframe.

  Dino had worked for me since right after I won my Golden Gloves bout and set up my business. My father wanted to go legit, and Dino’s old man had been Pop’s best associate for twenty years. Dino knew the business, same as me. He knew what needed to be done without me explaining much.

  “Finney,” I said, shooting the man a look. “Marco says he lifted a shipment from the East docks.”

  “I’ll handle it personally.”

  “There’s nothing to handle.” I leaned forward, spotting another message from Marco. This one, a lot of nonsense about worrying over shipments that hadn’t arrived. “Send some boys to watch the morning deliveries. I want you to head out to White Planes in case Finney gets any ideas about fattening his fucking pockets again.”

  “I’ll take Will. He’s been asking for a bigger job. This could be it.”

  I nodded but hesitated before dismissing him. “That cousin of yours is young. You can take him but bring Stew and Davey too. Keep it low-key. I wanna see what Finney’s play is.”

  “No problem, boss.” Dino pulled out his cell, probably shooting off texts to the rest of the crew, but paused, his features going hard and his thumb stilling as he moved his gaze across the screen.

  “Problem?”

  There was always a fucking problem.

  Always some damn drama.

  This was why I’d moved my office out of my parents’ building. They weren’t far from me, but still far enough that my business and their safety were at a comfortable distance.

  “The bakery owner…”

  “Still missing?”

  Dino nodded, shrugging like he had no real explanations for me.

  The woman was a headache I didn’t need. She’d spent the first two months she showed up in town working my nerves, refusing to pay the protection fees, ignoring requests from me and my boys for a sit down to let her know how things were done in Cuoricino. Short of busting in there myself with my whole crew, which wouldn’t make any of us look good, I’d been close to running out of ideas.

  Then, four months back, the woman disappeared. The bakery was still up and running. It was doing well from the looks of it, but the chick running the place, like her boss, wouldn’t play ball.

  “I have two guys on the place every day getting fat and slurping down so much espresso they’ve gotten the shakes. But it’s no good. No news, nothing.” Dino scratched his nose, something I noticed he did when he was gearing up to tell me shit I didn’t want to hear.

  “Say what you want,” I told him, crossing my arms, knowing this shit would probably get on my nerves just like the redhead. Everything about her did.

  “I think maybe we should just…drop it.”

  “No.” I wouldn’t let him finish, waving a hand when he opened his mouth again. “It’s been four months, and no one’s seen her. But Dario did some digging.” At Dino’s look, I shook my head, a little disappointed that the man still didn’t think my brother had straightened himself out. “What? You think he hasn’t shaken off Riker’s?”

  “Not my job to tell you what I think, boss.”

  “That look on your face says enough.” Dino didn’t answer, shifted his expression, but sat when I nodded to the chair in front of my desk, turning down the espresso when I waved to the machine.

  “Five years on the inside does something to you,” I explained, my fingers digging into my forehead. “But it’s not all bad with Dario.”

  “How do you mean?” Dino leaned forward, elbows to his knees.

  “He’s got an instinct now he didn’t have before. A sense when shit is sideways and the redhead? Shit with her is fucking horizontal.”

  He nodded, sitting back, his face bunching up as he watched me. “He hear something?”

  “He put two and two together.” I slipped a glance to the door, nodding, and Dino reached behind him, pushing it closed before he turned his attention back at me.

  “And?”

  “Liam Shane.”

  The man dropped his guard and the second that asshole’s name left my mouth, I spotted the fury he stirred up in Dino. My man was loyal. He would be. Shane had nearly taken out my cousin Johnny. He’d made himself the biggest enemy our family had. That meant he was Dino’s enemy too.

  “She’s connected?” Dino asked, his mouth tight.

  “She might be. Shane’s got a missing wife no one can find. This redhead is the same age. Same height and weight. She’s got the same scar on her neck where Shane cut her when she fought her way out of their bed. But Dario can’t be sure. He didn’t get that close of a look.”

  “He saw the scar?”

  Dino watched the smile stretch over my mouth but didn’t react. Of course Dario watched. The redhead was hot. “That bastard did five years on the inside and she’s everything on his list.”

  “He likes redheads?”

  “Fuck, man. He likes female. Enough said. She had him interested and now he wants to know if that’s her.”

  “If it is…”

  I nodded, stretching back to rub a hand over my mouth. “If it is, she might have just as much reason to find out where Shane is as Dario. They’d have a common enemy.”

  Liam Shane had been the one to supply the drugs to our youngest brother, Dante. The same drugs he sold out of Dario’s bar. Dante took Shane’s money, and our family landed an enemy. But it was Dario who took that bid for our kid brother. It was Dario who landed in Riker’s.

  After Shane kidnapped Johnny’s woman, just to prove he could, he cut his own neck with our family. The redhead might know where Shane did his hiding. If she did, that information would be valuable.

  We needed her found.

  “Kat Harrell is back on the East Coast,” Dino said, his voice even, but I heard the hint of something anxious in his tone. He’d been a little soft on Kat a few years back, even though the woman had never been interested in anything but the laptops she used to hack into whatever security system needed breaking and whoever paid her the
most for doing the job.

  “Find her,” I told him, pushing back from my desk. “If the redhead has been travelling or using anything other than cash, Kat can find her.” I downed the rest of the espresso, my glance moving to the window and the bakery down the block. “Tell Wilson at the precinct to get me a tap on their line.” It was time the cops in this little town started returning some favors for the money I poured into their budget. They looked the other way when I needed them to and I made sure they had enough guns, enough cars, and enough vests to keep this town peaceful and quiet.

  “And…Dario?” I shook my head, not much liking the disbelief I heard in Dino’s voice when he asked about my brother. When I glared at him, he held up his hand. “He might spook the woman if he finds her.”

  Everybody had thoughts about people doing time. Even Dino. But my kid brother wasn’t some career criminal. He’d done his five years. Learned a few things in the process. Still, Dino didn’t look convinced.

  “Or, hell, maybe she’ll spook him.”

  “Nah,” I told the man, grabbing my cell when it sounded again. “Dante and Luca took him to the city months back. He got his back straightened out.” Dino frowned, like he had no idea what I meant. I cocked an eyebrow when the man only stared back at me blankly. “Jesus, man. They got him laid. A lot. He can handle himself.” Dino nodded, moving back to the door when my cell sounded, and I waved him off. “He’s a Carelli. Give my kid brother a little credit.”

  “Got it,” Dino said, shutting the door behind him before he disappeared into the hallway.

  Twenty crates. Marco’s message read.

  That was an easy half a mil gone because that Finney punk didn’t want to earn his own money.

  And they beat the fuck out of Bobby and his kid brother.

  Shit. Bobby was barely twenty-two. He’d brought his brother along because it was supposed to be an easy night watching the docks.

  Watch your back and keep shit locked down, I typed back, my fingers slipping across the screen from how firmly I held my cell.

  “This is why,” I told myself, throwing my cell onto the desk, slumping back into my chair. My life wouldn’t get easier. This wouldn’t change.