Page 20 of Paolo DeLuca
Chapter thirteen
Lyricfinallyrelented.Damn, she was stubborn as hell. If she didn’t leave with him tonight, he’d punch the shit out of a few men in the room for what they were thinking about. He saw the desire in their eyes. The same desire he knew shown in his. Paolo walked her to her car.
“I’ll follow you,” he stated and shut the door before she could respond, making his way to his car.
He’d get her settled into her apartment and then go to the club. The call from Dante yielded more than he had expected. They found the three punks who passed the counterfeit bills and had them down below the club, waiting for him. They’d get information out of them one way or another. Within minutes, they were driving into one of the sketchiest neighborhoods in Miami. Franco didn’t tell him she lived in this area. Shit, he needed someone watching her every minute of the day if she lived here.
“Fuck!” he yelled, pounding his fist on the steering wheel as he killed the engine. “This is where the fuck she lives?” One of the roughest areas in the city. He couldn’t believe it.
He pushed open his door and stepped out of his car, rushing to hers.
“You fucking live here?” he growled as Lyric got out of her car. Her apartment building and her car were pieces of shit. None of this was good enough for her.
“Yes,” she said, taken aback. “Why?”
“Why!” he asked incredulously. “This is one of the worst neighborhoods in the city.”
Lyric huffed. “It’s what I can afford. Now, excuse me, Mr. DeLuca,” she said, shouldering past him.
“Shit,” he mumbled, running his hand through his hair. This woman would be the death of him. He didn’t have any choice but to follow her. Lyric had him whipped already.
Paolo growled in frustration. “Lyric, wait.”
“Why?” She whirled around.
“Because I didn’t mean it like that.” He took a deep breath and blew it out. He’d never been so disconcerted in his life about a woman. He ran a motherfucking empire and never fucked up words as he did with her. “Look, I just want you safe, il mio cuore batte. At least let me walk you to your door.”
“Okay.” Begrudgingly, but to his relief, she agreed.
Thank fuck.
His hand snaked around her waist, and he pulled her close while they crossed the parking lot toward the front door of her building. A mom-and-pop diner occupied the first floor. The food made his stomach growl, but he’d get something on the way out.
“Hola, Señor Garcia,” Lyric greeted as she led the way to a small elevator in the hallway. The man only grunted as his eyes followed Paolo down the hall.
The old man is smart to be weary. Paolo smirked.
“Not very friendly, is he?”
“Actually, he is.” Lyric shrugged. “It must be the company.” She grinned. He didn’t.
“Must be.”
“Well, thank you for walking me into the building,” Lyric said, waiting for the elevator to descend. “I can manage from here.”
He was tempted to let her go up alone. Let it be. He had business to take care of, after all. But he couldn’t be worried with anything right now. Paolo pulled Lyric to him, so their bodies melded. He loved the feel of her curves. He wanted, with everything in him, to follow her into that elevator and get a feel of those curves without the clothing impeding his touch.
“You don’t even know what I want to do to you right now…” Paolo lowered his head, touching Lyric’s forehead, “but I have to go.”
He lightly brushed her lips, then, deepened the kiss when she didn’t pull away from him. Lyric’s soft mewls pushed him further. His dick hardened, seeking out her warmth. He ground his hips against hers, then pulled away from the kiss.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised, then pressed the elevator button. He didn’t walk away until she was inside the elevator and the doors closed.
The thumping beat of the house music rushed through Paolo’s body, as he and Dante made their way through the crowd and down the hallway. Paolo pulled out his key, unlocked the door, and entered the room.
“Have they talked yet?”
“Not yet.” Dante followed him down the stairs into the bowels of the club. “We haven’t applied any pressure either.”
