Ruthless Mr. Ricco, page 13
part #1 of Brutal Billionaire Bosses Series
She closes a fist in my hair and tugs. I groan.
“You wouldn’t,” she says.
I roll her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and grin at her.
Goosebumps rise on her flesh. I shift her on my lap and ghost my lips along her jawline.
“You’re right. I’m not letting you go even then. I’ll drive you to work in the morning.”
She arches her back, offering me her breasts and pressing her ass against my hard cock.
“I didn’t bring clothes. Or shampoo. Or—”
“We’ll order whatever you need and have it delivered. It’ll be here before dinner, but first—” I seal my mouth over her jugular and suck as I trail my hand down her torso and slip my fingers through her sopping folds. Hunger roars through me as she moans. I toss her onto the bed behind me and rip the blanket away as I trail kisses down her body. “I need another taste.”
I feast.
She fills more than my stomach. Her open reactions humble and excite me. I sink into a world of carnal satisfaction, pleasuring my little rabbit on the bed, floor, couch, against the wall, in the shower, and under the stars in the living room against the windows. She wrings more from me and leaves me reeling in satisfaction yet my hunger never ceases.
When I wake with my arms around her from behind, her breast in my hand and my hard cock nestled between her ass cheeks, I give in to temptation and slip my hand between her legs. She rouses and grabs my wrist.
“I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” she murmurs.
“Then I’ll carry you everywhere.”
She huffs in amusement but spears her fingers into my hair and twists to meet my mouth.
When my alarm rings, she becomes my morning workout. I carry her into the shower and scrub her from head to toe, smirking when she groans as I knead the shampoo into her hair and ignoring my hard cock as white suds trail down her perfect curves. She steals the loofah and pushes down onto the bench before returning the gesture.
I watch in mute awe as she strokes my entire body with reverence. Her dainty hands and hungry eyes make me feel powerful. Invincible. Worshipped.
The bruise on her arm still looks painful, but the yellow and green around the edges proves she’s healing. She doesn’t complain about the pain, but I offer her pain relief with breakfast anyway.
When I park in my designated CEO spot, I grab her by the nape before she can open her door. She squeaks as I tug her face to mine over the center console.
“I don’t know how I’m going to keep my hands off you,” I growl against her lips.
She closes her fists in my hair and kisses me with desperate strokes of her tongue before jerking away and stepping out of the car. I struggle to breathe from the force of my desire. She leans back into the car and grabs her briefcase.
“Thank you, Mr. Ricco. I’ll have your coffee ready in ten minutes.”
When I finally get my brain back into gear, I chuckle and run my hands through my hair. Her clever dismissal sets a clear boundary while making me feel claimed. The jealous beast inside me preens. She’s as eager as I am for our next meeting.
By the time I walk into my office, a steaming mug of coffee sits on my desk and several sticky notes from Mr. Brunswick wait on my computer monitor.
Between the big projects we launched last week, daily operations, and searching for leads from the class reunion, the hours fly by. Monday churns to Tuesday without another chance for me to speak with her. In fact, she scampers home during my last meeting of the day, leaving Mr. Brunswick to finish the daily checklist.
She returns Tuesday morning with a slight edginess to her awareness, but she settles into work with a smile, and by the end of the workday, she looks tired enough to keel over, so I send her home with orders to rest.
I rode her too hard, but fucking hell, keeping my hands off her is nearly impossible.
On Wednesday, she surprises me with the completed papers to sue Ms. Lynn, including dozens of surveillance pictures and the photos Brook took immediately after her accident. The man in the driver’s seat catches my eye because he stares right at Brook in the photo. He looks vaguely familiar, but I don’t know where I saw him before.
My woman impresses me with her thorough work, and even though I expected nothing but the best from her, I can’t pass up the opportunity to pull her into my arms and steal a kiss. She balks but gives in when I tease my tongue across her lips.
When she thumps the side of her fist against my chest hard enough to leave a bruise and wriggles for freedom, I reluctantly let her go. She assures me she’s fine when I ask, but guilt worms its way into my heart and I vow to take better care of her this weekend. I’ll ensure she gets proper rest and nutrition between rounds of pleasure.
Thursday morning, she’s more withdrawn than usual. I call her into my office before lunch, using an asinine excuse, and gesture for her to join me at my desk. The moment she steps into reach, I pull her into my lap and kiss her.
We both heave when I lift my head. I cup her face and study her expression.
“What’s wrong, little rabbit?” I ask.
She shudders but whacks me on the shoulder.
“My boss is getting too handsy, that’s what’s wrong. Let me go,” she snaps.
“You’re not regretting what we did, are you?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
“Did I hurt you?”
She rolls her eyes and sighs.
“I already told you; no, I’m fine.”
“Are you worried about this weekend?” I press.
She stiffens before resting her fingers on my forearm and meeting my stare.
“I need a raincheck this weekend,” she says.
“Why?” I demand.
“I have an appointment tomorrow. You already approved my time off,” she says.
I quirk a brow.
“What does that have to do with the rest of the weekend?”
She pushes my hand away and stands. I grab her hips and spin her around to face me.
“You can’t escape me, little rabbit,” I growl.
Misery-tinged fury swirls in her rich brown eyes.
“I’m not escaping or pulling away or whatever hairbrained idea your insecure alpha male brain is feeding you. I just need one weekend to myself for medical reasons, so stop being an overbearing ass and give me some space to breathe.”
The emotions behind her outburst are too complicated for me to dissect, so I pull her closer and pin her hips between my knees before grabbing her wrists and wrapping her arms around my shoulders. My mouth waters as her cleavage hovers a few inches away from my face, but I meet her eyes and ignore the lust pulsing through me.
“Are you on your period?” I ask.
She hesitates but shakes her head.
“No, I’m not, but you’re an ass for trying to blame my frustrations on my hormones. Just listen to me,” she demands.
I trail a hand down to her hip and play with her collar as I breathe in her scent.
“I am listening. You haven’t given any answers,” I say.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before pinning me in place with her intense rich brown orbs.
“I am going for my yearly medical work up tomorrow, which includes a blood draw and half a dozen other tests. After watching my mother go in and out of the hospital for years as she fought cancer, I always feel drained afterward—and no, I do not want company. I need time alone to process.”
Despite her steady tone and reserved expression, I sense the turmoil in her soul, so I shove down my disappointment over a lonely weekend and rub my thumb along her jawline.
“Is that why you’ve been off in the mornings?” I ask.
She blinks.
“You noticed?” she asks.
I nod.
After a moment of consideration, she shrugs.
“I keep feeling like someone is watching me on my commute, but I have no proof.”
I stiffen.
“I have a few well-trained bodyguards on reserve—”
“Don’t you dare. I’ll call the police if there’s an issue. For now, it’s just a hunch. I haven’t seen anyone following me.”
“No, Brook. This is nonnegotiable. I won’t take chances with your safety. They’ll be discreet. I’ll send you their information.”
She studies my face, recognizes my resoluteness, and sighs.
“Fine, now let me go. I only have so much time for lunch, and my boss is a jerk,” she declares.
I laugh and steal a taste of her sweetness before letting her go. My cock throbs in my trousers as she adds an extra sway to her hips on the way out the door.
My vicious little rabbit has no mercy.
Friday drags and drags. My clocks seem stuck in slow motion. Food tastes like ash. Work doesn’t hold my attention. Mr. Brunswick gives me a dubious look when I ask him to repeat himself. Ms. Simon’s absence echoes throughout the entire executive floor.
I take a stack of work home with me, but my penthouse has no life without my little rabbit. After a restless night, a dull morning, and a few hours of research, I wander to my private rooftop for a jog in the evening sun.
With my muscles burning and sweat dripping down my back, I almost ignore the ringing of my phone, but I pull it out of my pocket and answer the call when I realize it’s from the boutique where Brook and I enjoyed tasting each other in the dressing room.
A woman answers in a shaky, uncertain voice.
“Hello, Mr. Ricco?”
“This is he,” I respond.
“I apologize for interrupting your day, but we forgot a few of your items last week, so I’m here to deliver them, except…”
Alarm spears through me as a man yells in the background.
“I’ve checked the address, and this is the right building, but I’m not sure I should be here. Ms. Lynn isn’t answering her phone, so—” the woman says.
“Text me the address. Now,” I demand before ending the call and veering off the track.
Too worried to wait on the elevator, I take the stairs down to my floor, grab my wallet and keys, and punch the elevator button. The doors open without hesitation. I dart inside and jam my thumb against the button for the parking garage.
My phone pings with an incoming text. I glance at the strange address as I pull up Brook’s contact information.
She doesn’t answer my call. I try again. No answer.
I lose track of how many traffic violations I commit on the way, but I pull up to the old brick two-story building within a few minutes. Despite the sketchy surroundings, the door opens with ease.
The courier stands in the tiny foyer. The ritzy bag in her hand stands out amidst the faded linoleum and stained walls.
Iron clinks against iron. The smell of sweat and rubber invades my nose. A woman screams from deeper in the building.
Brook.
I dart down the hallway and skid around the corner only to slide to a halt a millimeter before I trip over the thick blue mats covering the floor. A group of women swing their attention to me.
I freeze as shock and fear rolls through them, each one reacting so strongly ice condenses in my veins. Everyone except my little rabbit. Anger narrows her glare as she spins around and stalks through the class from the far corner with aggressiveness in every move.
“Hey, bozo, I already told you; no men allowed in here during—”
She stops and her eyes widen when she realizes who I am. For a moment, she stares at me as though unable to process my arrival in this world she kept hidden from me, and I belatedly realize it’s after five o’clock on a Saturday.
This is why she demanded time off.
I don’t know exactly what this is, but when a devious smile tilts her lips, I prepare myself to figure out very soon.
“Ladies, this is Matteo Ricco, my boss and boyfriend.” My heart leaps at her declaration, and by the triumphant glint in her eyes, I know I’ll do anything for her even though I should slowly back out of the room. “He’ll be our first live dummy. Give me a minute to get him padded up, then you can give him all you got.”
She’s evil. I love it.
I love her.
She resolves the issue with the courier by taking the bag and setting it against the wall before motioning me over to her.
“I voluntold you and I’m not sorry about it. You told me you’d leave me alone all weekend,” she says through gritted teeth.
“I misunderstood the situation and overreacted. Look at me, little rabbit. I’m not exactly dressed to impress,” I say.
Hunger brightens her eyes as she gives me a once-over. She drops into a squat and straps a training pad around my shin.
“Every inch of you is impressive, you fucking jerk. If these ladies weren’t recovering from men like you, I’d be tearing them to pieces for looking at you,” she mumbles as she fastens a pad to my other shin.
She stands and speaks quietly as she fits another pad to my forearm.
“This is a self-defense class. Do not lift your hands higher than their heads and no grabbing without clear communication beforehand. Understand?”
Her tone brooks no argument. I nod as she straps my other forearm.
“Be their punching bag for an hour or two, then maybe I’ll forgive you for interrupting,” she says.
I bend my knees so she can drape a harness over my shoulders.
“I wouldn’t do this for anyone but you, little rabbit,” I murmur.
A hint of softness lurks in her eyes despite her scoff.
“Liar.” She tightens the chest pad and tests it with a few vicious tugs before slapping the center. “You have a bleeding heart hidden way down deep in there somewhere. Now shut up and let me beat on you like I’ve always wanted to.”
Excitement and dread pound through me. I’ve never seen this side of her before.
I’m obsessed.
She grabs the side strap of the harness and pulls me behind her as she crosses to the far side of the mats. I follow without resistance.
“First up is Audrey. She’s the mastermind behind this class, so it’s only fair she gets first dibs,” Brook says.
A redhead with bright green eyes and dark freckles on her pale face steps up to me.
She doesn’t pull her punches. None of them do.
Especially not my vicious little rabbit.
Fuck, I should have taken her more seriously, because she was right.
Rabbits kick.
Hard.
Chapter 15
Brook Simons
As the class members pair up and head toward the door, I yank the pads off Matteo and try to hide my mirth as he winces. His focus intensifies on my lips and he frowns. My insides clench and fear skitters down my spine despite the laughter lurking in his eyes.
I drop the chest pads onto the narrow bench and reach for the disinfectant spray.
Audrey walks up and stands next to me, just opposite Matteo. She thanks him and gives me the half-hug that’s kept me grounded for the past eight years.
Pride flows through me at her nonchalance despite Matteo’s presence as she gives me a squeeze. When we first met, she broke out in a cold sweat and couldn’t speak every time a man walked into the room, but she’s worked hard and conquered her fears. Mostly.
We’ve bonded through our trauma, and even though we rarely see each other outside the gym, I consider her my closest friend.
Audrey slips out as quietly as she arrived, leaving me alone with a hulking beast. The hunger in his gaze as he studies me from head to toe lights a fire in my blood, but the pain in my body dampens my enjoyment.
I should send Matteo away so I can nurse my wounds in peace, but I long for the safety of his arms.
My heart lurches in my chest as I realize the depths of my addiction after only one day of intimacy with him.
Concern creases his brow. I fill my lungs and hold my breath as I disinfect the padding, avoiding the harsh chemicals and willing my emotions under control.
Without a word, he helps me reset the room for the late-night gym bros as they begin filtering in. When I weave my fingers into his and tug him after me, he kisses my knuckles and follows me with a smile.
I grab the shopping bag on my way to the hall. The high-quality material seems out of place under the harsh fluorescent lighting.
“Why’d you have that delivered to a gym?” Matteo asks.
I chew the inside of my lip before ducking my head into the office.
“Thanks, Mr. Carter. I’m heading up for the night. This is Matteo. He’s with me, so don’t cripple him if you see him sneaking out in the morning,” I say.
Wizened old eyes lift and scrutinize my partner. He grunts and tucks his head back into his logbook.
I lead Matteo to the stairs. He quirks a brow at the out of order sign on the elevator, but I tug him after me, afraid I’ll lose my nerve if I slow my pace. With a lump of emotions in my throat, I lunge up the stairs, stride down the narrow exposed-brick hall, take my key out of my pocket, and unlock my door.
He follows me into my apartment without an ounce of hesitation despite his surprise. I shut and lock the door before tossing my keys into my purse and grabbing my phone off the single countertop. His presence makes my studio apartment seem matchbox tiny.
I never thought I’d invite anyone into my sanctuary, yet Matteo Ricco, my first crush and biggest heartbreak, stands a few feet inside the door. On the verge of overwhelm, I ignore him and focus on my phone.
“I’m sorry I missed your calls. I never take—”
My throat closes as he wraps his arms around me from behind. Emotions quake through me. Relief, pain, and misery threaten to shake me apart. I close my eyes and focus on regulating my breathing.
“How long have you lived here?” he asks.
I clear my throat, but my brain refuses to form words. The ache in my muscles from exerting myself in class loses its glow and joins the cacophony of humiliation and pain in my body.
“Brook?”
His voice sounds from far away despite his chest vibrating against my back. With heart-wrenching gentleness, he turns me around to face him. A sob wells up from my soul. I halfway swallow it down.
