“I want to take you inside,” he whispers, through a dark, sexy smile.
“Okay.”
“Send Eve home. You’re staying with me tonight.”
His proposition douses the fire raging in my body.
“You want me to spend the night?” Panic creeps in.
His lips curve at the ends. “Yeah, you can borrow something to sleep in.”
I try to think of something logical, some reason why I can’t spend the night, but with his hands running up and down my back, it’s hard to concentrate. How can I say no? Jonah Slade asks for a sleepover, the answer is always yes. It’s in the female handbook. She says no, she gets her membership revoked, right? If not, she should.
“Okay.”
The corners of his mouth twitch. “Raven, you gotta give me something besides okay.”
Here he just confessed to having feelings for me and asked me to spend the night, and he want’s something besides okay? My brain is on overload, not to mention the other parts of my body that have just woken up for the first time in . . . well, forever. They may even short circuit if he gets anywhere near them with that skilled mouth of his. I laugh inwardly at the thought of Jonah’s vast experience with women compared to my complete lack of experience with men.
Oh, no.
“I can’t have sex with you.” I blurt out the words, my hand covering my mouth too late.
I’m an idiot.
His eyes light up, dancing with laughter, making my idiocy totally worth it.
“That’s all right. I’m not asking you to stay over so I can have sex with you.” He lifts one eyebrow and gives me a one-dimpled grin. “Can we make out?”
Heat bursts against my cheeks and floods down my neck. I bury my face against his chest to hide my embarrassment. “Okay.”
He throws his head back and laughs while holding me to him. Instantly, his touch calms my nerves and my lungs take in a full breath. His warm skin smells like coconut sunblock mixed with his usual masculine spice. I relax deeper into his hold.
“Jonah?’
“Hmm?”
“I like you too.”
He pulls back just enough to see my face, determination flashing in his eyes. He leans down and, knowing what he’s after, I lift up on my toes. Our lips touch for the first time in a soft caress. I’ve wondered what it would be like to kiss Jonah, and even my best fantasies weren’t this good.
His full, strong lips mold to mine. A slow sweep of his tongue has me opening to him. What started off teasing turns hot and urgent as he pulls my lower lip with his teeth, coaxing my tongue to explore. His hands grab at my hair and mine wrap around his biceps.
The kiss turns demanding as he possesses my mouth. His muscles flex against my palms. I struggle to keep myself on my toes, his expert mouth making my legs completely useless. I slide back down on flat feet, dragging my br**sts down his chest as I go. He releases his hold on my hair and cups my bottom with his hands, pulling me against him.
My gosh, that feels good.
With what seems like great effort, he ends the kiss, gently nibbling and tasting my lower lip. His hands give me a squeeze before sliding up and resting on my lower back. He bends down and presses one last kiss on my neck before looking into my eyes.
Amazing. In this moment, after that kiss, he’s no longer Jonah “The Assassin” Slade, celebrity bad-boy. Looking at him now, he’s just Jonah.
“Don’t worry about tonight.” His words are said in a way that makes me feel like I might be more to him than a hook up. “I’d never push you further than you’re willing to go.”
My stomach twists with anxiety. He has no idea.
Eight
Jonah
After my talk with Raven in the bathroom, I have one objective—get these people out of my house. Pronto. With the taste of her still on my lips, I let the guys know that the party is over.
It’s just past ten as I wave off the last of my friends. I watch from the front porch as Raven says good-bye to Eve. The patio light illuminates her face as she laughs hard at something Eve must have said.
Damn, she’s gorgeous. I always knew she was beautiful, but getting her alone in that bathroom, her body trembling in my arms, her breathy moans, and flushed cheeks. Perfect.
And that kiss. I’m not big on kissing, never have been. But Raven’s sweet lips, so tentative at first, only to turn greedy and demanding—a few more minutes of that and I’d probably bust in my shorts like a teenage boy.
She walks toward me, her backpack slung over one shoulder, Eve’s taillights disappearing down the driveway.
“Come here.” I brush her hair aside and lean in. Before I’m there, she tilts her head, offering her throat to me. Fucking perfect. I hone in on my spot: the blackbird’s wing that peeks at the base of her neck. First, a quick press of my lips, then I part my mouth to taste her tender flesh. She hums low in her throat and leans into me.
“I like your tattoo.” My voice against her neck makes her to shiver.
“I like yours too.”
I force myself back a step. “Everything okay with your girl?”
“Yes, she’s happy I’m staying here. She hates my place, thinks it’s not safe.” She picks at the frayed strap of her backpack.
“Why is your place not safe?”
She looks up at me and rolls her eyes. “I live in a studio apartment.”
Okay. That doesn’t sound so bad.
“Where?”
She blows out a long, defeated-sounding breath. “Right by the garage.”
She shifts on her feet, and I know she’s holding something back. I tilt my head and wait. Her eyes grow a fraction. That’s right, sweetheart. I’m on to you.
“Well, actually . . .”
“I’m listening.”
“I live above the garage.” She’s back to picking at her backpack strap.
Nope. I must’ve heard that wrong. “You live above Guy’s Garage?”
She nods.
A wave of anxiety floods my body. “Raven, there’s nothing over there but warehouses and vagrants. There’s not a decent human being within a ten-mile radius after business hours.”
Thinking of her all alone at night in that part of town makes my muscles tense. My mind imagines all the things that could happen to an innocent girl in that part of town after hours. The alley behind the garage is a festering crime spot. There’s probably all manner of piece-of-shit lowlifes lurking in the shadows. I’ll never be able to sleep knowing she’s over there alone. No.
“From now on, you stay here with me,” I blurt.
Her eyes flash in shock and her lips part.
I just took this too far.
“What did you say?” Her voice is barely a whisper.
I run my hands through my hair, trying to figure out what the hell is going on in my head. I’m having a hard time believing my own words. Did I just ask her to move in with me? I want this girl, more than I’ve wanted any other girl. There’s no denying that. The protective instinct stirs in my chest, something I’ve never felt for any woman outside of my mom and sister.
“You heard me.”
“Jonah, I’m not staying with you every night. That’s absurd. You barely know me. I mean . . .” She studies me, and I can’t help but think how her confused and shocked expression adds a cuteness to her already gorgeous face.
“I just want to keep you safe, and I can’t do that if you aren’t with me.” I take a deep, steadying breath. That felt okay. Not awkward, like I thought it would. “Besides, you work on the Impala most mornings. It’ll save on gas money.” It’s a stretch, but I’m desperate—also a new feeling for me.
“That’s really sweet of you, b-but I can’t.” Her expression relaxes, and she puts her hands on her hips. “I have to feed Dog.”
This is interesting. I can’t think of a single girl, not one, who would argue with me at my offer to have them sleep in my bed. And did she say she has a dog?
“Dog?”
“Yes. Dog.” Her shoulders square off and she lifts her chin.
She thinks something like having to feed her dog is going discourage me? She needs to get to know me better, which is exactly what I plan on doing once this conversation is over.
“Bring your dog.” I shrug.
“Bring my . . . but . . . I don’t have a dog.” Her forehead pinches between her eyebrows, and I fight the desire to kiss the skin smooth.
Damn, she is really cute.
“You said you had to feed your dog.”
“Right, Dog. My cat. Well, not my cat. The cat that lives in the alley.”
I roll my lips between my teeth to keep from laughing. “Let me get this straight. You feed an alley cat that you’ve named Dog, and that’s why you can’t stay with me.”
“Exactly.” She throws her hands out like she’s just made the point of the century.
I lose the battle against my laughter and nearly double over with it. “You’re, without a doubt, the most amusing girl I’ve ever met, Raven . . . uh . . .” I’m not going through this again. “What’s your last name?”
Her expression falls and her face goes pale. What did I say? She rolls her bottom lip into her mouth, raking it across her teeth. My laughter dies and instinctively I pull her into my arms.
“Baby? You okay?”
She exhales and wraps her hands around my waist. “I’m fine. You just caught me off guard.” Her arms grow tight as she hugs me to her. “I guess you’ll find out sooner or later.”
What the hell? What could possibly be so bad about her last name? I guess it could be Manson or Bundy.
“Morretti. My full name is Raven Morretti.” Her words are dull and lifeless.
Morretti? I look past her, squinting into the darkness. Why does that name—Holy shit!
Dominick Morretti. Las Vegas’s most infamous pimp. And her mom’s a prostitute. It all makes sense.
Not only have I seen his mug all over the news but I’ve actually met the scumbag. I’ve seen him at all our fights, working his girls. He tried to get us to throw down some cash for a night with a Morretti girl.
Raven looks nothing like him with her dark hair and olive skin, but those eyes. It’s amazing I didn’t make the connection before. The color is so unique, but, where hers are cool pools of Caribbean water, his are death by drowning. My mom always said, “The eyes are the windows to your soul,” and looking into Dominick Morretti’s eyes, it’s pretty clear he ain’t got one.
“Jonah?” Her arms grow impossibly tighter around my waist.
She’s got to know I know who her father is. Everyone in town knows who her father is. He not only runs the biggest prostitution ring in the state, allegedly, but he also owns half the real estate in town. And she lives in a studio above a garage?
“Yeah, baby. Let’s get you inside.”
I grab her hand and lead her into the house. Not letting go, I lock the door and take her to the couch. I sit down and pull her onto my lap. She stiffens and avoids my eyes.
“Your dad is Dominick Morretti.”
Dropping her forehead, she simply nods.