OWN HER: A Dark Mafia Romance(26)
She cursed inwardly. Had she remembered to make sure the lock on the kitchen door was secured? No, despite the fact that this was a dangerous part of town and she knew it.
And like an idiot, she'd been too preoccupied with thoughts of Gio to remember to bring her gun into the bedroom with her.
She sat up in bed and stared at the bedroom doorway, praying she'd dreamed or imagined the sounds even as her gut told her that she hadn't.
A moment later, the menacing silhouette of a man appeared at the door, looking down at her.
Chapter 12
Gio
Gio sat in his Special Room again. He was so enraged that the world seemed to present itself to him entirely in hazy shades of red.
How could Carolyn have turned him down so bluntly? Couldn't she see how much effort he'd put into their evening? Sure, he knew that girls had to put up a disinterested front at first so they didn't seem easy, and when they saw men get violent with other men, they felt like they had to clutch their pearls and act all shocked and scandalized even if they were secretly turned on by it.
And Carolyn clearly had her whole “classy professional lady” act going on, so she felt like she needed to go the extra mile with all that. All right. Fine.
But goddamn it, how long was she planning to keep up the charade? How long did she expect him to wait before she finally gave in?
Gio paced around the room like a caged animal in a zoo. Every time his eye fell upon one of his elaborate pieces of fetish furniture—the swings, the benches, the whipping posts—he imagined her secured to them, twisting and writhing in agony as he made her pay for acting like such a cock tease. He pictured the welts his paddles and riding crops would leave on her flesh, and the helpless, frenzied look in her eyes as she moaned with a ball gag in her mouth.
He stopped in his tracks, considering something new and frightening.
Could it be that she wasn't just stringing him along? Could it be that she really had no interest in him as anything other than a legal client? For the first time in his life, had he actually encountered a girl who couldn't be tempted into his bed by his charm, his wealth, and his status as a crown prince of the Chicago underworld?
No, he thought sharply, his hands curling into fists. No, fuck that. That's bullshit. Haven't I seen flashes of desire in her eyes when she thought I wasn't looking? I didn't make that up.
No, she's just some stuck-up tart in a pantsuit who thinks she can go around giving guys blue balls just because she has a fancy degree.
She's probably home in her bed right now, he mused, dreaming up new ways to screw with me and make me chase her. Or maybe she's thinking about me while she diddles herself and wishing she'd given me a chance tonight after all.
Whichever one it was, Gio decided he wanted to be there to see it. He suddenly ached to know what she was doing right then, at that very moment.
She wanted to play games?
Okay, Gio thought. I can play games.
He went downstairs, poured himself a tumbler of whiskey, and drank it down in two long gulps. Then he grabbed the keys to his 'Vette and left.
Chapter 13
Gio
Gio parked his 'Vette several blocks away from Carolyn's house, in front of a housing project complex with dark windows. It was a flashy car, and he didn't want to take a chance that she'd be awake and happen to see it out the window.
He didn't know if he wanted her to see him yet. He only knew he needed to see her.
He grabbed the black toolbox and carried it with him. As he did, he saw Bandana and several of his friends materialize on a nearby corner, shuffling and peering at him curiously like a row of crows perched on a telephone wire.
“You remember what I said earlier,” Gio said, gesturing toward his car. It wasn't a question.
Bandana held up his hands defensively. “Yo, I heard you, man,” he said. “Ain't no one gonna mess with your ride.”
“Good.” Gio continued toward Carolyn's house.
Bandana kept pace with him, looking down at the tool kit he was carrying. “Wouldn't have pegged you as a burglar in that outfit,” he joked.
“You trying to give me attitude?” Gio asked, bristling. He hadn't come here for a fight, but he damn sure wasn't in the mood to take lip from anyone, either.
“Naw, naw, I'm tryin' to help!” Bandana insisted. “You fittin' to break into that lady's house up the street?”
“What if I am?”
“Check it: Last summer, some old dude was livin' up in that place, an' me an' my crew decided to rip 'im off,” Bandana confided.
“So?”
Bandana rolled his eyes and spoke slowly, as though he were talking to a two-year-old. “So when we did the deed, we found out the front door's got three locks, but the back door to that kitchen? Only got one.”