Ruthless Sentinel Page 3

  “Did you hear a word I just said or is your brain too sloshed by all that champagne you drank?”

  I repeated verbatim when I expected he’d spewed—what I’d heard dozens of times before escaping the Burtonelli household three years earlier.

  Lips pursed and dark eyes as cold as the night beyond the limo, he didn’t blink until I finished.

  “There will be no acts of indiscretion between now and November.” His threatening tone, just like the promise of the belt back in the day, used to tingle my ass.

  I nodded, smart enough to know, thank you very much, I had eleven months of hell ahead of me. At least my backside no longer felt his words in physical form. The last time I’d felt the lick of his belt had been when I was sixteen and he caught my then boyfriend trying to escape out my bedroom window.

  “A hint—one whiff—of wrong choices that will result in bad press,” Father continued, “and I’ll send you to Italy.”

  A shudder rippled through me, pebbling my skin. A threat that would most definitely keep me in line if I hadn’t already decided to somehow break away from the shadow of my father. My cousin in Italy was closer to Father’s age than mine, and while I didn’t usually mind the affection of my Italian heritage, he took it too far with his lingering hugs and wandering hands.

  The first time I’d told Father that my cousin made me uncomfortable, he’d ripped me a new one, claiming I was making the tale up for attention.

  Yeah. Fucktwat.

  “I’ll need clothes,” I said, focusing on my mother, knowing she at least would agree with me on the smaller details of having my life turned upside down at my father’s declaration.

  “You can borrow a nightgown of mine for tonight,” she said, still smiling. “Tomorrow, we’ll have security escort you to your condo to pack up.”

  “Tomorrow is Christmas,” I said, my voice as dead as the heart in my chest. I’d planned on spending the morning with friends and only returning to the Burtonelli house for the traditional family dinner I knew I wouldn’t be able to put off.

  “It’ll be just perfect.” Mother’s eyes shown even though the haze of champagne probably muddled her vision, same as me. “Just like the old days,” she breathed while beaming. “All my babies around the Christmas tree. We’ll have cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate with miniature marshmallows.”

  Marisa smiled at Mother, the perfect little twit. Twenty-eight, happily married to Father’s old firm, and having zero arguments about leaving her own condo behind. Cristian stared at Logan—still. A senior in high school whose best friend acted the beard to protect his ass from Father.

  Sweet girl, but a sad situation since he would never be able to return her love. At least Cristian had such a friend. Nothing and no one had ever made attempts to shield me from Father’s wrath.

  We finally arrived at the house, and I lingered on my seat until everyone else exited before sliding toward the limo door, my head spinning more than I’d noticed at the party.

  Logan’s hand appeared same as it had when we’d arrived at the hotel, and I slipped my fingers through his, glancing up to offer my thanks as I swayed on my feet.

  He tightened his hold, not that I had any plan of escaping him quickly. “Are you alright?” he murmured as Cristian hurried up the stairs to the front door.

  “I might have had a bit too much to drink, but I’ll be fine.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  I forced a smile as our gazes collided once more, hating he’d seen and heard the embarrassment I constantly caused my father. “He can’t hurt me.”

  Logan peered down at me, seeing straight through to my damn soul—I had no doubt. “Eleven months is a long fucking time.”

  I snorted, scanning the house’s face and the flood of lights spilling from the windows. If only my childhood home was actually filled with the comfort such light brought to darkness like the cold night wrapped around us. “No shit.”

  “Giada.”

  Warmth tingled between my thighs at his low murmur of my name, and I turned to find his stare on my lips. “Yes, Logan Stone?”

  “My father was a bully of the worst sort.”

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured, my own heart aching for him, for our shared pain.

  “A lesser woman would have caved to your asshole of a father years ago.”

  Tears pricked my eyes. “I refuse to let him break me.”

  His slow smile lightened the heaviness in my heart and restarted the cream factory between my thighs. “I admire your strength. You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that.”

  “Blue ones,” I reminded him, an eyebrow raised in invitation.

  “No indiscretions, I believe your father stated, and unlucky for you, I’m a rule follower.”

  “Fuck his rules.” I trailed a fingertip down over his woolen coat’s lapel, stepping closer. “There’s no cameras inside the house. No one needs to know.”

  His jaw muscle ticked in the lights flooding from the house caressing the side of his face.

  “Giada, dear!” Mother’s voice carried from the house, causing Logan’s openness to shut down like a slamming metal door.

  “I’ll be right there,” I called back to her, my attention riveted on the mask dropped into place over Logan’s face.

  He stepped away, releasing my hand. “I’m not going to fuck you under your father’s roof.”

  “Hmm.” I smirked. “But elsewhere?”

  His gaze narrowed, and he leaned toward me once more. “If we’d met under different circumstances, Giada Burtonelli, I’d bare every inch of your skin, eat your pussy until you screamed, and bury my dick so deep inside your body you’d swear you died and went to heaven—and that would only be in the first hour.”

  Fuck. Yes.

  My mouth dried up as I fought to come up with something besides falling to my knees and begging. I’d had my fair share of men over the years, but not a single one turned me on with mere words in the way Logan did.

  “I’ll need an escort to my condo tomorrow.” My suggestion ticked that muscle in his sharp jaw again, but Greed approached us, ending our fun little conversation.

  Chapter Three

  Stone

  Greed’s nudge to my arm tore my focus off Giada as she swayed her ass toward the house. That damn woman would be the death of me—or at least my ruination. Temptation beyond ice water after a good workout in my dojo.

  “You going to take her up on the offer her eyes were shooting at you all night, or is she fair game?” Greed asked.

  “Touch her,” I told him, my tone hard, “and I’ll bury your ass.”

  He chuckled but stepped out of my strike zone, opened hands raised. “Damn, man. Never seen you so worked up over a woman.”

  I slammed the limo door and knocked on the roof, letting the driver know he was good to put the car away in the three-stall garage. Turning my brain back on work, I glanced around the estate showing it much too dark for my liking. We’d already done a complete check on the security in place—and found it sorely lacking.

  “She is fine as fuck, though,” Greed said. “Can’t argue that.”

  I shot a glare his way. “We’re here to keep this family safe,” I reminded him—and myself—none too kindly. “Warden’s reputation is at stake, too. If you can’t focus on the job, I’ll have Warden can your ass and send over Sin.”

  “Sin’s got a bum arm.”

  I clenched my teeth and started a perimeter walk around the house, my dick aching as much as my jaw. “We need some more flood lights out here,” I tossed out before getting too far away Greed wouldn’t hear me. “A few extra cameras, too.”

  “I’ll make a note to get on it in the morning,” he said while starting up the house’s stairs.

  Once I checked all the doors, I locked the front one behind me and set the house’s alarm. Thankfully, the entire Burtonelli family had disappeared to the second floor.

  Temptation gone, at least for night one.

  First on watch,
I told Green to catch some Z’s and made my way to the small closet-like security room Judge Burtonelli had set up a mere week earlier right off the foyer. Hastily installed cameras around the estate’s exterior offered grainy images on a laptop provided by the home security company he’d hired to install the piece of shit.

  I needed to get Devil, my computer whiz Viper brother, out the next day to get the place properly protected. With no interior cameras, I felt like we watched in the dark, unable to do my job to the best of my ability.

  Not that I’d have been a fucking creep and watched Giada slip out of her dress and crawl between her sheets. Would she take up her mother’s offer of a nightgown, or did she sleep naked?

  Teeth once more clenched, I settled in for my shift. Christmas Eve and not a creature stirred, not even a mouse. Although my eyelids felt like sandpaper every time I blinked, I remained vigilant, watching the camera feeds. Quietly made my way around the lower level of the house when I needed to stay awake, peering out windows into the dark night.

  One of Burtonelli’s personal staff had the shit shift, relieving me in the middle of the night, and I made one last walk through of the house before closing myself in the guest room Mrs. Burtonelli had insisted I take in the east wing.

  Greed had the room across the hallway. We would both stay on site, making a total of five full-time guards to watch over the family.

  I already had Devil working to find the sender of the emailed “drop out of the Senate race by New Year’s Eve, or we’ll take you out ourselves” threat, but he’d yet to come up with any leads as to who might be behind them. My gut told me Arturo Martínez, the drug lord in control of New England, was the responsible party. Who else would feel threatened by Burtonelli’s running?

  Certainly not the little grunts who dealt beneath the cartel’s radar. A dime a dozen, the local boys selling narcotics didn’t have an empire to lose like Arturo did if Burtonelli landed the seat he ran for.

  Fully clothed in the event I needed to act fast and one of the walkie-talkies on the bed stand, I finally collapsed on my bed for the foreseeable future. When I’d agreed to take on the Burtonelli job, I hadn’t known we would be house guests more often than not. The idea of being all but married to the family twisted my gut.

  The thought of being in close proximity with Giada Burtonelli swelled my dick.

  Scowling, I rolled over, fought the need to grind against the mattress, punched the pillow, and closed my eyes.

  The dojo would be fine without my daily appearance. Sensei Jason ran the kid’s classes, and one of my kickboxing long-timers had agreed to take over the early morning fitness classes. A few hours a week in the office would keep things running as smoothly as they’d been going for over five years.

  Being away from the motorcycle club and my Viper brothers would suck ass, though. In the club, I’d found the friendship and feeling of belonging I’d missed out on my whole life. Sure, most of the fuckers were royal bastards with violent streaks and lawless mindsets like other one-percenters, but they were family. The Vipers understood loyalty. Acceptances of differences. Having one’s back in all things, at all times.

  I’d been lucky to find my place within their ranks. If only Giada could find something similar. A supportive group to help her escape the prison of her name.

  Claim her.

  “Fuck,” I muttered at the thought that slammed into my brain. I punched the pillow as my dick took interest yet again. “Got a fucking job to do.”

  Damn cock didn’t give a shit, though, and I ended up stroking one out before my brain agreed to rest.

  ****

  Christmas morning, and while I normally would be at the club with my brothers and their families, I found myself sitting in the security closet again, watching the house’s exterior rather than the Burtonelli’s drink their hot chocolate and eat cinnamon rolls around the huge tree in their family room.

  Giada had come down the stairs in a light-colored robe, one that fell to mid-thigh, the top gaping enough to offer a nice view of cleavage. Barefoot. Zero trace of makeup.

  Still fucking hot as hell.

  Tearing my focus off her didn’t come easy, but the blood to my dick sure as fuck did.

  I’d chosen another walk around the house—outdoors in the fucking cold—to talk myself down. A quick jerk off in the bathroom would have been better, but I refused to leave my post for something as selfish as release.

  Shooting spunk into my hand sounded about as satisfying as a kick to the balls. A warm, wet pussy would be fifty times better, but even the thought of one of the club whores getting me off curled my lip.

  I wasn’t a selfish man by nature, but the temptation to carry Giada away from her father, fuck the job, fuck the family, intensified every time I caught a hint of pain in her eyes.

  Her pain fucking slayed me almost as much as her goddamn curves.

  She eventually ended up in a too-tight outfit provided by her sister, and I had zero complaints to give, other than the ache in my balls over thoughts of sliding my dick between her lush tits.

  My morning watch ended, and I readied to escape the Burtonelli household for a quick jaunt to the club to touch base with Devil about a new security system and enjoy some real holiday revelry for an hour or two.

  Giada caught me before I could slip out the front door. “Hey.”

  Her low voice pulled me up short of reaching for the handle. I turned to find her smiling—the first I’d seen that morning—and a glint in her eye.

  “The judge says I need a guard to accompany me to my condo to pack up some of my stuff.”

  Shit.

  Three men watched the house, I planned an escape, and the fifth had finally sacked out after being up since three in the morning. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—send Greed or the other currently sitting in the closet with her, leaving only two guards on duty.

  I was screwed.

  “Get your coat,” I said, pulling out my cell. A quick text to Greed let him know I had her in my care.

  His damn wink emoji pissed me off, and I muttered inside my head until Giada returned in her tight ass jeans and the goddamn heels from the night before. At least she covered her tits with her winter coat, but fuck if the sight of her shapely calves wrapped in denim leading down to those fucking porn heels didn’t turn me on.

  Yeah. Hard-fucking-on.

  “My truck,” I told her as she sashayed past me through the front door I’d opened for her.

  “Yes, sir.”

  I wasn’t into kink beyond a bit of roughness, but her use of that damn word hit my groin like a shot of adrenaline. Thoughts of tying her down flitted through my too-active brain. Withholding her climax. Forced climaxes.

  Fucking-A.

  “Alright, big boy?” she asked as I settled into the driver side after seeing her into my truck.

  “Just fine.”

  I managed two minutes of staying focused on the road before she shifted, a waft of lilacs drifting past my nose. A quick glance across the cab showed her gaze plastered to my face.

  “What?” I asked, turning back to the road.

  “How’d you escape him?”

  “My dad?”

  “Yeah.”

  I glanced in my side mirror and turned on my blinker to pass the slow fucker in front of me. “He said ‘for your own good’ one too many times.”

  Giada made a sound of disgust. “One of my father’s favorites as well.”

  “I was eighteen,” I said, not wanting to dwell on the fucker I’d been hired to protect. “Just earned my black belt in karate, and Pop being the military asshole he was, decided to test me on his own. I’d chosen to only block his fists throughout the years, but sprawling on the floor with blood running from my nose that day... Yeah. He spit on me, told me he’d done it for my own damn good. I decided it was an affair of honor, just like the creed I’d been saying for years.”

  “Tell me you stood up and kicked his ass.”

  “I put him down with three punc
hes.”

  “Good for you.”

  I glanced over at Giada to find her smirking. “Best day of my life,” I said, turning forward once more, that sense of power I’d felt simmering inside me returning, “but also the worst since I left my mom and younger sister behind.”

  “Do you have any contact with them?”

  “Mom texts me on my birthday every year, but that’s it. My sister was always a daddy’s girl—he couldn’t do any wrong in her eyes. Sure, I miss her, but I had a clear conscious leaving her behind. Knew Pop wouldn’t hurt her. Ever.”

  Giada let out a sigh. “I can’t leave Cristian alone.”

  I nodded, not sure if she saw, but kept quiet while she told me about the baby brother she’d lay her life down for. A beard for a girlfriend, deep in the closet even from their mom, with Marisa none the wiser, either.

  “If Father ever found out...” She let out a heavy sigh.

  My GPS told me we’d arrived at our destination, and I parked around the back of her condo building, checking out the lack of people or activity in the surrounding area.

  “When will Cristian be eighteen?”

  “He already is, but he’ll never leave. He has every intention of going to Harvard Law School, working alongside Marisa, and settling down with a lovely young lady someday.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s expected of him.”

  “Well that’s a fucking shame.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  I turned off my truck and tipped my head toward the building’s rear entrance. “I want you in front of me—don’t stop for anyone or anything.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Once more biting back a groan, I slipped out of my truck and rounded the hood, my attention scanning non-stop as Giada climbed out to join me in the cold. Not that I really expected an attempt on her life, but I kept close watch—not on her ass surprisingly—until locked inside her condo.

  I made her stay by the front door while I did a quick sweep of all five rooms, and finding the place empty of bodies but our own, returned to find her coat in hand, her tits perky as fuck.

  Ripping my focus off her chest, I shed my own coat and tossed it over the back of the couch. “Pack up what you need. I have a call to make.”