Page 54 of Extradition (Mobsters + Billionaires 1)
RAND
Joseph Portelli is a problem.When he was horseplaying earlier, the power of his hold played at something bright and needy in my chest, and that was bad enough. The incident in the park and the way he held me right after, however, awakened something deeper. Darker.
“If he were going after you, I’d a killed him with my bare hands.”
I wonder if he has any clue at all how much those words make me ache for the taste of him, long for the feel of his hands bending my body to his will. It took every bit of willpower not to straddle him on the couch and beg him to have his way with me.
Even though I’m driven to distraction, I know something’s gotten under his skin. I can’t ignore the bothered quiet that’s come over him during dinner. His shoulders are bound up, his mouth set in a hard plane, his hair ruffled from running his fingers through it over and over again.
I wonder if it’s just this morning’s violence or if something else happened while he was cooking. I want to ask, but don’t dare.
As soon as we finish eating another eye-rollingly good meal, he makes his excuses. He doesn’t even offer to help wash the dishes, which seems so out of character that even Grayson puzzles after him as he leaves for his suite.
I hesitate then decide to approach Grayson at the sink. “Do you have any notion of what might be wrong with Joe? He was in a good mood before dinner, but now something is wrong.”
Grayson rubs his mouth, measuring his words in that careful way of his.
“Tell me. I’ll be discreet. I think he’ll be good for the company, and seeing him unhappy makes me worry.”
It’s not the entire truth, but close enough.
Or not.
“Good for the company?” Grayson asks, leveling me with a gaze.
“Yes. He’s very smart. His ideas have a lot of merit.”
“Hmm,” he says, going back to washing the dishes.
“Do you know anything?”
He towel-dries a plate, considering me for a few more moments. Once he’s put it away, he turns to me fully.
“We were talking about his grandmother—”
“His nonna?” I ask, smiling briefly.
“Yes. His nonna. He said that after she died, the only other person in his family who had his back was an uncle. With everything that’s happened, he hadn’t considered that his uncle might not still be on his side. He allowed me to finish dinner while he went to his quarters and called him.”
“Oh. So if he was upset at dinner…?”
“The news was likely not good,” Grayson says, wiping down the counters.
“Thank you, Grayson. If you’re done here, I’m in for the rest of the night. Enjoy your evening.”
Grayson gives me a sharp nod and leaves for home. Looking out at the empty living room, I pivot back toward the curving hallway that leads to the guest quarters. After hesitating for a moment, I push forward.
His door is visible from the small guest den, and it’s partially open. He’s undressing, already down to his boxers, revealing beautiful skin and well-defined muscles. He thumbs his waistband, then glances up, a dangerous look in his eyes.
My hand automatically goes to my face, covering my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he says, his voice flat. “I ain’t got nothing you ain’t seen before.”
I peek out from behind my hand, and he’s even closer with all of his near-nudity and dark intensity riding just under the surface.
Spreadsheets. Falling stock prices. Mobsters.
“Of course. Um, I was just coming back here to check on you.”
