Page 45 of Pump Fake

A deep chuckle was my only answer.

When his hand slid up my inner thigh to tease my already-slick entrance, rubbing intoxicating circles over my needy nub, my core exploded with heat. The control he had over my body was all-consuming. I wanted to make him as desperate as he made me.

While he continued to tease my hypersensitive skin, my fingers trailed over his shoulders, his muscles bunching and shifting beneath them as I worked my way down. Slipping a hand between us, I wrapped my fingers around his long, thick length and gave a few slow pumps, spreading the bead of wetness at his blunt head until he moaned my name.

He captured my lips with his, teasing and insistent. My body hummed from his every touch. Another pump of my hand, and a deep growl rumbled through his chest and into mine. I arched against him, drunk with power. Then he captured my wrist, gently bringing it over my head, where he held me captive. He held my gaze, and I sucked in a breath at the naked desire swirling in his whiskey depths.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

I cupped his cheek with my free hand, touched to the depths of my soul as emotion threatened to drown me. The truth of how I felt about him threatened to breach my kiss-swollen lips—I loved him more than I ever thought possible.

Then he was kissing the curve of my neck where it met my shoulder, and my thoughts spun with dizzying want as my nails bit into his powerful shoulder. I urged him to take all of me.

I squirmed with need at the hard press of him at my entrance, desperate for him to slide inside. Hooking a leg around his hips, I tipped the scales in my direction, and he pushed inside me. I broke our kiss with a gasp, my head pressing into the pillow, neck arching at how incredible it felt to have him fill me.

He set the pace as we moved together, sensations building and cresting between us with each powerful thrust. He shifted, angling even deeper, heightening the building passion between us. And with his deep thrust, my climax exploded in a burst of stars behind my eyelids. My head rocked back against the pillow as I cried out, convulsing around him.

My hands slid over his slick six-pack, and his muscles rippled beneath my fingers. His pace quickened as he chased my climax with his own then collapsed on top of me. I clung to him, shaken by the connection between us, reveling in his heavy weight.

He dipped his head into my neck, trailing kisses along the curve, whispering my name, and I fell even deeper for him. My legs tangled with his, and I realized I never wanted to let him go.

CHAPTER TWENTY- FOUR

BRIELLE

The miles melted beneath my car’s tires. Dread sat like a bowling ball in the pit of my stomach, growing larger the closer I got to my destination—the penitentiary where Dad was being held.

I’d woken alone in Ares’s bed. Last night, I’d confessed everything I’d previously left out—what it had been like growing up in my family, how Ser and I had always had each other’s backs against parents who’d cared only for themselves. I’d opened the door, and Ares had walked all the way into my messy upbringing. While I’d talked, he’d withheld judgment. I felt supported. I should’ve known he would be there for me, but I was so used to friends showing their true colors once I no longer fit into their socioeconomic class. When our lives had imploded, Ser and I had learned real quick who our true friends were. I hadn’t had any—before Mal. Ser, thankfully, had a few.

I’d spilled everything I knew about my dad’s arrest. Sadly, it wasn’t all that much. I had no idea how or why the mafia was involved or what to do about it. Ares wanted to work with the police concerning what we knew and how I’d almost gotten grabbed. I agreed, but first, I needed to suck it up and talk toDad. Because if Dad was involved with the mob, it could put Ares in danger, and it might also change his mind about me. I wasn’t sure what to do and pushed those thoughts from my head temporarily.

The timing was perfect because Ares had a full day of training and class, so I skipped my only class that morning. I turned into the prison’s parking lot and parked. After going through security, I sat in a chair, waiting for Dad to join me on the other side of thick plexiglass.

When he sat down, I had to will myself not to react. The man I’d known as my dad had never had a hair out of place, was always clean shaven, and wore a suit. I didn’t recall ever seeing him in casual clothes. I must have, but the prison garb made me feel like I hadn’t. It was a terrible color on him and made his usually robust face seem sallow. The hardness around his eyes might have been there before but had grown more pronounced. He lifted the phone, and I did the same, immediately wishing I’d brought a Clorox wipe as I pressed it to my ear.

“Brielle, I’m surprised to see you here.” His tone held no warmth. “How is your mother?”

Not even an “It’s so good to see you,” or “How are you doing?” My back snapped ramrod straight as I hardened myself to the proof of his lack of emotions. I knew better than to hope he cared. It didn’t make the fact he hadn’t even asked about Serena any easier to accept. “Mom’s worried, and I am too. Men have been following us. Mom said you’re in trouble with”—I leaned closer and lowered my voice—“the mob.”

Dad scoffed. “Your mom fucked up. I kept that account to take care of things. I never should have told her about the money—she couldn’t fucking help herself.”

Money?That explained her shopping spree. “So what could get taken care of?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing—I needed more of an explanation. “I don’t understand.”

“What do you expect? I had to keep your mother and yougirls in the lifestyle you were accustomed to. When business deals tanked, I panicked.”

“And by that, you mean you went to who for money?”

“Don’t be naïve. There’s only one place I would go.”

I took a shot in the dark. “The mob?”

A single nod confirmed my answer. “Which family?” There were five of them, and the more information I had?—

“Canino.”

Fuck.That was bad. All mafia was. My fingers tingled with the shock of his words. “Are you kidding me? Dad, they’re coming after us now that no one’s paying off your debt.” I should have known it was that family, as Anthony Canino had been arrested a few years back for something like illegal betting rings, or… I couldn’t remember actually. I did remember his picture on the news, though, with that scar slicing through his right eyebrow and into part of his eyelid, making it droop. Of course, he’d never gone to jail.

“Stop overreacting, Brielle. It was a long time ago. I’ve been paying them regularly. And would still be if your mom hadn’t cleaned out the account. It’s a damn good thing I thought ahead and paid them a lump sum to hold the wolves at bay.”

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