As the gate closes behind me, I pull back on the throttle and burn a thirty foot black mark down the tunnel leading into the garage, and it feels fucking magnificent. Things have changed since we returned from Miami, but I’m a firm believer in making the most of what you have, and we’re doing that. One fucking day at a time.
I rumble to a stop next to Piper’s BMW i8, which was delivered just two days ago, and kill the engine. She’s yet to drive it, and she forced me to go to lot after lot to end up choosing one from the very first place we visited, but she’s going to look sexy as fuck when she finally does get behind the wheel.
Pulling off my helmet, I stand, swinging my leg over the Busa and starting toward Riley, who’s glancing between me and the quiet tunnel. “Cary’s a lost cause,” I say, waving toward the empty drive. “I lost him on the Interstate a half hour ago.”
Riley chuckles, shaking his head. “Ivan’s not going to be pleased.”
My smile falls just slightly as I think about my brother, but I rebound rather quickly. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?” Cary’s my personal bodyguard now, and Ivan’s a stickler for making sure he’s around any time I leave Simone Place.
“Right, Boss,” Riley says, recognizing the order without me having to spell it out. “Oh, there’s a delivery for Miss Tate.” He takes my helmet and scurries back into his little room, reappearing with a very large bouquet of flowers.
Fucking roses.
Goddamn red roses in a Tiffany fucking vase—at least two dozen.
“Where the hell did these come from?” I snap as he shoves them into my hands.
“Special delivery.” He shrugs. “Thought you might like to take them up, so I saved them until you returned.”
“Take them up?” I parrot. “Why didn’t you trash them?”
“Dante.” Lorenzo’s scolding voice comes from behind me. “Will you ever learn? You don’t trash things that don’t belong to you. You take them to Piper and allow her to decide for herself what to do with them.”
I turn with a glare. “Why the fuck would Piper want some goddamn roses that aren’t from me?”
“I have no idea, son,” he says easily. “But it doesn’t mean it isn’t still her choice to make.”
“Fine!” My jaw clenches tightly, the know-it-all fucker, and I huff. “And if they’re from a fucking stalker or some shit, I’m going to tell her to blame you.”
“You do that,” he says, smirking as he turns to openly flirt with Riley—who’s at least twenty-five years his junior.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for him—them—but it’s also weird. Lorenzo’s always been tried and true—a staunch and steady presence throughout my whole life. He was always there, and he said it was because the Outfit was the most important thing in his life—now, I know better. He was harboring a deep secret, and I’m glad he trusted me enough to share it. I’m glad I was in the position to accept it—him.
The sound of another bike echoes down the tunnel, and I smirk, hurrying toward the elevator. “Look at the time,” I say, stepping inside. “Piper’s really expecting this delivery.”
Riley barks a laugh. “What do you want us to tell Cary?”
“Tell him to keep up next time.”
“Ivan’s expecting us at two,” Lorenzo reminds me, holding up two fingers as the doors start closing.
“See ya there.”
The doors finally shut, and I heave a heavy sigh, the scent of roses suffocating me in this small metal trap. It only reminds me that some other fucker has sent my Piper a fabulous-looking bouquet in an expensive-ass vase. I spot the card, and instead of reaching for it, I try to light it on fire with my eyes. Lorenzo’s voice echoes through my head … The card belongs to Piper.
This boyfriend shit is hard.
By the time the elevator dings, I’ve worked myself up again and stomp out, peeking around the obnoxious bouquet. “Piper!” I yell, charging into the penthouse like a raging bull. “Piper!”
“Here I am,” she says, and she sounds as if she’s coming up the hall. “Awww, they’re beautiful. You shouldn’t have.”
She sounds way too fucking gushy for my liking, so I stop and move the vase to the side. “I didn’t.”
“What?” she says, pausing, her eyes moving from me to the irritatingly gorgeous bouquet. “Who did, then?”
“There’s a card,” I say, and I try like hell to seem impassive as I slide the vase onto my custom crafted Dalbergia wood dining table. “Here you are.” I snag it and turn, holding it out with as much restraint as I can muster.
“It’s killing you, isn’t it?” She smirks as she takes it and steps close, pressing her tank-top-clad tits against my chest. “Wondering who could’ve possibly sent me such a magnificent bouquet of flowers.”
I answer her with teeth and lips. I’m hungry and angry and possessive as I shove my tongue into her mouth and take control. She’s fucking mine, and I show it with unrestrained lust and passion. Goddammit! She makes me fucking crazy. My mind spins out of control as I pull her close and attempt to inhale her very soul.
Just like fucking always, she meets me with even more passion and vigor, practically mounting me to anchor her thighs around my waist. Her breaths are heavy, and the little purrs she emits cause my cock to throb. Forget I had her only a few hours
