F O U R

“What does he look like?” Anja queried, attempting to ignore the raise of Sienna’s perfectly manicured eyebrows as petite hands nudged an empty glass in Anja’s direction. “I’m not your damn sommelier.”

“Uh, tall, muscular, shaved head, brown eyes, nose that looks like it’s been punched a few times…” She trailed off, taking a tentative sip of her wine in an attempt to stop herself. She could’ve talked about the dimple buried between the bristles of his chin or the gentle bow outlining his ruddy upper lip, about his broad, rugged hands or the deep, chiseled lines etched beneath the fabric of his shirt, but the disgusted look breaching Sienna’s ivory skin snapped her back to reality. Elford’s words echoed forebodingly; He is dangerous. Far more dangerous than you could imagine. Yet she’d spend all night dreaming of him – lustful earthen eyes observing her, the heat from his rough palm against the small of her back, how her heart had thrummed rhythmically at the sight of him.  

“Yep, that’s Jon Moretti alright,” Anja nodded, gulping down a half glass of red wine before letting out a low whistle. “I’m jealous. He’s a stone cold fox.”

“Revolting,” Sienna scowled, jade green eyes boring daggers into Anja. “He’s not a good person, Zoe. You need to stay far away.”

“Elford’s already warned me.”

Sienna’s gaze shifted to Zoe, her brow furrowed agitatedly. “Well, it didn’t seem to register. I can see you getting all dreamy-eyed just talking about him. Taking risks is all fun and games, Zo, until you end up seriously hurt.”

From her position in the corner of the sofa, Anja scoffed. “Jesus, Sienna, loosen up. The whole point of a risk is the adrenaline that comes from the potential of getting hurt. Why else would anyone go bungee jumping or sky diving or swim with damn sharks? You can’t spend your entire life surrounded by safety nets. What a boring existence.”

“Better a boring existence than none at all.”

“You might as well have none at all if that’s your outlook.” Raising her hands in exasperation, she widened her eyes as she swiveled to face Zoe. “You have to take a risk sometime. Might as well be for a ride on Jon fucking Moretti.”

Sienna’s glass had been plonked onto the coffee table now, her usual calm composure frazzled as she rolled her eyes exasperatedly. “Bungee jumping and all that shit is regulated, Anja. What you’re trying to do right now is send our friend home with a dangerous fucking criminal. How can you be so nonchalant about this shit?”

The tension between the pair was only escalating, and Zoe opted out, allowing her head to loll back onto the pilled, gray fabric of the sofa and her eyes to close, her mind drifting to thoughts she knew she shouldn’t be having. She reimagined the moment he’d leaned in for his cigarettes, how desperately she had wanted his lips to find hers, to know what he tasted like, to feel the hard ridges of his biceps beneath her palms. The argument between her friends dissipated, replaced only by thoughts of her unlikely knight in a black trench coat.

                                                             -------------------------

Bitter air nipped at Zoe’s bare legs, covered only by a small sheath of black denim, as she stepped out into the parking lot of SubTerra. Working the floor had its perks, she had to admit. She’d made enough money to not only pay her rent but also make a dent in her sizeable debt – enough to keep the relentless collector off her back for the time being. The amount of skin she had to show to get the damn payment though wasn’t exactly comfortable.

Jon Moretti had vanished, seemingly evaporating into thin air that night in the darkened parking lot over two weeks ago. But while his physical presence was absent, he remained, infiltrating her moments of peace with seductive brown eyes and that irresistible cocky smirk. It was palpable. She caught glimpses of him in her peripherals, hiding in the shadows of the floor, heard his raspy voice calling her over to order a drink – but every time she was met with someone else, her stomach sank.

Tugging her jacket around her tightly, her keys pressed tightly in her palm, she managed to shiver out a goodbye to Anja, striding across the car park to her own vehicle. As she came closer to her silver sedan, Zoe hesitated, eyes narrowing on the sleek black BMW parked far too close for the vast array of empty spaces surrounding them. Clutching the tiny bottle of pepper spray she had late-night purchased on A****n, she readied herself to fire. She jumped as the door popped open, the formidable figure of Jon Moretti arising from the leathered interior.

“Jesus, you scared me.” Zoe breathed, leaning against her dusty side door. “You almost got sprayed.”

Jon laughed, deep and husky, and Zoe’s body reacted, erupting in goosebumps. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“You’ve been looking?” he smirked, kneading the nape of his neck as his head dipped. “I had a job to do, although I’d planned to stay away for a few weeks regardless. My ego was a bit – uh – bruised, you know?”

“Oh, I’m sure it was.”

With his head still low, his dark gaze drifted up to meet hers. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, Zoe,” he murmured, shiny black Chelsea boots shuffling closer. “I don’t know what it is about you, but I couldn’t get you off my mind.”

The intoxicating scent of his cologne, the faint aroma of cigarette on his breath, cinched her throat. Her eyes closed involuntarily at the rough warmth of his hand snaking around her waist. This time, there was no thick coat to muffle the sensation, and Zoe could feel his thumb tracing delicate lines against her. It was a freezing autumnal night, and yet she felt like she was in front of a furnace. Her hands rested against his hard chest, his heartbeat thudding beneath her palm. It would’ve been all too easy to melt into him, throw every precaution out the window and yield to the thoughts invading her mind for weeks.

Letting out a soft breath, Zoe sucked her lower lip between her teeth. “We can’t do this.”

“Why?” He murmured, his voice huskier than usual, thick with desire. “Those stupid, fucking rules?”

“Those rules keep me safe.”

Affronted, russet eyes analyzed her delicate features. “Keep you safe from who? Me?”

“You can’t act like you’re harmless, Jon. I don’t know what you’ve done, but you’re allowed here,” she paused, head tilting towards the red-bricked building. “And that tells me whatever it is, isn’t good.”

Soft fingertips danced along the apple of her cheek sending her heart racing. “Do you think I would hurt you?”

“I – I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” His voice was a gentle whisper, his face inching closer. Coarse fingers tickled the soft hairs on her neck, making her shiver and as his tongue drawled across his lower lip, he glanced hungrily from her eyes to her mouth. A small grin broke out as Zoe leaned forward, closing the gap between them. She couldn’t help herself. Tugging her closer, she sank into him, his heart beating faster and faster against her chest as his tongue brushed tentatively across her the entrance of her mouth. The logical part of her brain screamed at her to stop, but the taste of him – minty cigarettes and scotch – was electrifying. Fingers tangled in her brown, wavy hair as he pressed her tightly to him. She gasped at the hard lump between his thighs, at the way it dug into her pelvis pleadingly. A heat spread within her lower stomach, her legs opening slightly to feel the intrusion better, but as her center throbbed, Elford’s warning echoed through her mind.

She groaned, unwillingly detaching herself from him. “I can’t do this.” His frustration was palpable, a broad hand reaching up to rub his face, but Zoe cut him off before he could speak. “Tell me why you come here.”

“Because I like you, Zoe. Is it not obvious?”

“That’s not wh –“ she breathed. “Why do you come to the club? Why are you allowed in?”

Recoiling his hand from her waist, he remained close, rubbing his chin as if weighing up what he was about to say. “Are we really doing this now?”

“I’m not an idiot. I know the type of people this place is filled with, but people keep warning me how dangerous you are, as if you’re worse. I just – I want to know what they do.”

Maybe the information that she had been warned against him offended him, as he stepped back, sinewy arms folding defensively across his broad chest. “I’m not any worse than most of the people in there.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” she murmured.

“I’m not going to sit here and profess to be a fucking angel, but I’ve never hurt a woman or a child. More than I can say for half the fucking guys who come here. Maybe I have a twisted definition of worse, but I’d say those things constitute a fucking warning.” Scraping his fingers across his shaven scalp, he let out a sharp exhale. “On the list of dangerous people here, I can name at least fifty who are more psychotic than I am.”

“I’m not standing here alone with any of them though, am I?”

Clearing his throat, still dense with lust, he sighed. “If I tell you, I put you in danger.”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “Oh please, as if that isn’t the oldest line in the criminal’s handbook.”

“It’s the truth.”

“So, you just expect me to believe that I’m not in a dangerous situation right now?!”

Wide hands cupped her face tenderly, his fingertips brushing faint strokes against her cool cheeks, as he rested his forehead against hers. “I’m not going to hurt you.” His lips found hers once more, the ferocity much gentler. “I promise you, you’re safe with me.”

A tempest of emotions raged within her – her desire mingling with fear and uncertainty to create an unsettling concoction. Her heart pounded savagely as her gaze met his. Once again, Elford’s caution resounded through her hesitancy, and she let out a long breath. “I’m sorry, Jon. I want to… I really do, but I just can’t.”

His forehead remained on hers, and she heard his breath catch in his throat. As he drew himself away, he planted his lips against her brow and begrudgingly nodded. The disappointment she’d felt every night he’d been absent from the club returned with a vengeance, and she wished she could change her response. She knew it was for the best though, no matter how much it stung in the moment.

“I guess I’ll see you around.” A strained smile was plastered on his face as he allowed his arms to slip away from her. Zoe yearned for the warmth to return instantaneously. It was if his touch filled a hollow within her that she hadn’t even realized she’d been missing. “Take care of yourself,” he murmured, retreating to his car before she had a chance to say anything in return.

As the sleek BMW rolled away from beside her, she felt her disappointment settle into a pit in her stomach. She knew she’d have to keep as much distance between herself and Jon Moretti as possible, or her resolve would melt into those full lips tinged with scotch and cigarettes.