Breathless for Him (Davison & Allegra) Read online

  * * *

  Davison picks up before the second ring.

  “Hi, baby. Everything okay? Where are you?”

  “I’m in the car with Charles on the way home. I was afraid I’d fall asleep and forget to call you. I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “How did it go tonight?”

  “Fine,” I reply too quickly.

  “What happened?” he asks worriedly.

  “Nothing.”

  “Allegra, I know you well enough by now to tell when something’s wrong.”

  “I’m just tired. Really. I just wish you were here, that’s all. I miss you.”

  “Then come over.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  “I’m naked,” he whispers.

  The visual that pops into my head that second arouses me instantly as I moan in frustration. “Ugh. Stop torturing me, Harvard.”

  “Whatever it takes, Venus,” he states confidently.

  “Can we have dinner tomorrow? Your place?” I ask sheepishly.

  “Of course. Hey, are you sure you’re okay?”

  I yawn to prolong the illusion. “Just tired.”

  He sighs. “All right. Anything special you’d like for tomorrow night?”

  “The state you’re in now will do just fine.”

  “Naked and horny?”

  “Bingo.”

  “I think that can be arranged. Sleep well, baby. And one more thing…”

  “Yeah?” I ask curiously.

  “I miss you too.”

  * * *

  After thanking Charles for the ride, I walk into the small foyer of my building. As my boots scrape against the floor, my right foot pushes something along the tiny square tiles. I look down, spotting a white business envelope sticking under the top of my boot.

  I bend down to pick it up and turn it over. The name MIA ALLEGRA ROSSETTI is spelled out in small block letters, obviously printed out by computer.

  My heart drops. Nobody has referred to me by that name in a very long time. Years. It was my name until I decided with my father to change it when I was a teenager. I’ve done so well keeping my identity hidden.

  Until now.

  I bite my lower lip to keep it from shaking, even as my hands are trembling, holding the featherlight envelope in my right one.

  Holding my breath, I insert my quivering thumb into the seal and tear it open. I peek inside to find a folded piece of copy paper. Slowly, I pull it out.

  Once it’s fully spread out in my hands, my heart begins to beat faster. I lean against the door as my body begins to shake.

  It’s a photocopy of The Picture. The one that was plastered on the front page of every newspaper in New York City and broadcast for days on the nightly news nineteen years ago. Thankfully, the copy is black-and-white, so I can’t see the dark brown irises of my widened eyes or the light blue of the shirt that the NYPD officer was wearing, which my five-year-old hands were fisting in their tight grip as I looked over the cop’s shoulder when I was being carried to safety.

  Below the picture, scrawled in black pen with a rough, uneven hand, are five words—

  I KNOW WHO YOU ARE

  I sink to the floor, my head bent down, my hands over my mouth trying to suppress my sobs so they won’t echo throughout the entire building.

  Oh God. No. Please. No. No. No.

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning, I realize the creaky wooden stairs that lead to the detective unit on the second floor of my local precinct haven’t changed in nineteen years. Walking up them, images flash through my head, mostly of me at age five holding onto my father’s hand as he took me to see Detective Leary every day after my mother’s murder to check on the progress of their investigation, with my other hand tightly gripping the teddy bear that my mother had bought me at FAO Schwarz for Christmas. But this time, I’m walking up those stairs alone.

  I step through the swinging double doors to the homicide detective squad room. The man I have come to see is not hard to miss. Detective Dermot Leary is holding court, surrounded by a group of young men and women. Since the last time I saw him, his hair has turned gray and he has a visible pouch around his midsection where his gun belt is struggling to hold on.

  One of the young men yells out, “Can we help you?”

  “Yes. I need to speak to Detective Leary,” I announce.

  Detective Leary turns around, a warm smile appearing across his face. He waddles over to me, enveloping me in a gentle hug. “Allegra! How are you?”

  “I’m well, thank you, Detective,” I reply. “I need to speak with you.”

  “Of course. I think interrogation room one is free. Cole, let’s go,” he orders in a gravelly voice, signaling to one of the young detectives, a tall, thin blond man who looks to be in his thirties. He walks over, outstretching his hand to me.

  “I’m Josh Cole,” he introduces himself to me. I shake his hand in return.

  “He’s new,” Leary informs me. “I’m showing him the ropes. Is it okay if he sits in on this?”

  I nod.

  Leary and Cole escort me to the same room where I had been asked question after question about the night of my mother’s murder. I stop before stepping through the door.

  “Ah, shit, I’m sorry, Allegra,” Leary says, recognizing the reason for my hesitation. “We can use another room.”

  I shake my head. “No, no. I’ll be fine. I insist.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure.”

  I walk through the door, indicating my answer.

  The walls are the same putrid shade of green from nineteen years ago, except now the paint is chipping along the ceiling and baseboards. I sit down at the table, with Leary and the young detective on the other end.

  “Now tell me how I can help,” Leary says kindly.

  I pull the envelope out of my purse. I slide it over to Dermot and Cole.

  Leary picks it up and opens its contents, then shows it to Cole.

  “When did you get this?” Cole asks.

  “Last night. I found it on the floor of the lobby in my building.”

  The two detectives look at each other knowingly.

  My heart starts to pound in my chest. “What? What is it?”

  Leary clasps his hands together, leaning closer to me. “We’ve been investigating a sex-trafficking ring with origins in Europe. They’ve expanded here, setting up base as a fake talent agency, taking advantage of young women who want to become models or actresses, and then they’re drugged and taken overseas to become sex slaves.”

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “About five months. We’re taking our time, building a solid case against everyone involved. We have someone on the inside.”

  I’m trying my best to keep calm. “Okay, but does this involve me in any way? The look you two gave each other made me panic there for a second.”

  “One of the cities where the ring’s based is Naples,” Cole informs me.

  “Where Carlo and my mother were from,” I finish his thought.

  Leary nods. “We know this because one of the perps has a heavy Italian accent, and our language expert concluded that it was a Neapolitan dialect based on what she heard on the surveillance tapes. But whoever sent you this must’ve known Carlo somehow, maybe from when he came over all those years ago…”

  “Before he killed my mother,” I whisper. “Okay, but if this guy did know Carlo, why do this now?”

  “Probably just to mess with your head,” Cole deduces.

  “Should I be worried?” I ask nervously.

  “I would just be more careful when you’re out in public, make sure nobody is following you, that kind of thing,” Leary suggests. “And if you get any more of these letters, I want you to bring them in. Understood?”

  “Yes, of course I will.” I nod vehemently.

  Leary stands up, walking over to my side of the table and sits in the chair next to me. “Allegra, why isn’t Jimmy here with you?” he asks, referring to my fathe
r by his American nickname.

  “Because I don’t want him to know. I can handle this,” I insist.

  “He needs to know about this,” he counters. “If you’re feeling threatened, we can put surveillance outside your place just to make sure…”

  “No.” I cut him off. My hands clench into fists. “No, Papa doesn’t need to know, and I don’t need an officer to watch over me. Please,” I beg, “I can take care of myself.”

  Cole shakes his head as Leary sighs. “Fine. Just promise me you’ll tell your father. And anyone else important in your life. And you call me the second anything strange or out of the ordinary happens. Got it?”

  I nod. Papa—fine. Davison—absolutely not.

  “I assume if the lab dusts this envelope, they’ll find your prints?” Cole asks.

  “Yes. Is there anything else I should know?”

  Leary rises from his chair, as does Cole. “No. That’s it for now. But you have to be careful from now on. You need to be hyperaware of everything going on around you.”

  I stand up to face Leary. “I will be, Detective. I promise. I know how to protect myself.”

  He pats my shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Allegra.”

  I smile slightly, giving them a grateful nod. “Thank you. Both of you.”

  Once I walk out of the station, I scan the street and look around for anything suspicious, just like Detective Leary told me to do.

  I can do this. I can protect myself. I’m used to it by now.

  * * *

  Mamma told me to run and hide.

  I’m running. Running as fast as I can. It’s so dark. I need to find a place to hide.

  I see an alley. I race down, looking…looking.

  An open door. I run inside, down a damp hallway. Another open door.

  It’s so warm. There are big metal things making so much noise.

  I lie down next to one. I’m so tired. I want to sleep. I close my eyes…

  Then someone shakes me. A light in my eyes. “Mia? Mia Allegra Rossetti? Sweetheart, I’m a policeman. I’m going to take you to your daddy now.”

  He picks me up, carrying me outside. I hold tight to his blue shirt. More lights, all different colors. So bright…

  I wake up with a start from my afternoon power nap, my body covered in sweat, shivering despite the wool blanket that covers me.

  I reach for my water bottle. I pull my nightstand drawer open, then quickly slam it shut.

  I don’t need the pills. I can handle this. I can handle everything.

  I know how to protect myself.

  And I did. Nineteen years ago.

  Chapter Eleven

  When Davison waits for me at his private elevator in his apartment that night, he’s barefoot in a rumpled white shirt and black pants, his shirttails pulled out of his waistband. Dark scruff covers his chiseled face. He’s obviously just come home from the office. And he looks so fucking sexy.

  “Hey, baby. Listen, I hope it’s okay if we just order in. I was thinking—”

  I rush to him as soon as I see him, slamming my lips over his. I know I need to start detaching myself from him in order to keep him safe from my past, but I need something more than that. I need his strength, his constancy. I need to be with someone who doesn’t know anything about my past and thinks I had a normal childhood. I need him.

  He doesn’t hesitate in reciprocating. Within seconds, his tongue is seeking mine. He pulls me into his arms, hauling me up with his hands as I wrap my legs around his waist. He moves us into the living room, his mouth attached to mine the entire way.

  I can feel the plush cushions of the couch underneath me as we collapse onto it. We rip off each other’s clothes, not saying a word to each other. It isn’t necessary. Our eyes are saying everything that’s needed between each other. The hunger in Davison’s eyes makes them hooded, exciting me, moistening my core.

  With his shirt gripped in my hands, I pull him closer as he settles himself over me, his hard cock nudging my belly. He descends on my breasts, sucking them like a beast feasting on his kill.

  Our mutual moans echo in the wide-open space of his living room. He is driving me mad as I scratch my nails up and down his muscled back, writhing under him.

  “Need you inside me, Davison. Now,” I pant.

  “Shit,” he exclaims. “Need a condom.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell him hurriedly. “I’m safe. Go bare. Please.”

  Before I know what’s happening, he sits up, pulling me with him, then lies back down with me on top of him.

  “I want to see you when I make you come. I want your gorgeous body on top of me when I’m driving my cock inside you.”

  He tugs me to him, his lush lips clamping over mine, sucking my tongue into his hot mouth. His hands knead my ass, traveling up and down my back.

  Coming up for air, I smile at him wickedly, then lean forward to dangle my breasts over his face. He smirks at me, raising one of his eyebrows at me.

  “Such a tease, Venus,” he murmurs.

  I let my breasts hang over him, swiftly moving away when his mouth is inches from my nipple. Finally, with a roar, he tugs one nipple to his mouth, biting on it, then licking it to soften the pain.

  My head lolls back as I revel in his ardor, but then I look down, and my eyes are locked on the image below me. Davison’s eyes are shut, his face contorted in pure joy, as if he can’t get enough of the taste of me.

  Sated from the taste of my breasts, he sits me back onto his crotch.

  “Ride me, Allegra,” he commands.

  I lean forward slightly until I settle his cock in my pussy, impaling me through my folds.

  “Ah…there you are, baby. Now I can feel me inside your sweet pussy with nothing between us. Always so fucking wet for me,” he whispers.

  I begin moving on top of him, as his hips start to join mine in sync. I buck on top of him, my hands holding on to his for support.

  “I need you, Davison. I need you to take it all.”

  He grunts as he meets me, thrust for thrust. I whimper, aching for more.

  “Fuck, baby…you’re so beautiful,” I hear him pant.

  He lets go of one of my hands, reaching down below me. I can feel his fingers on my clit as he begins to roll it between his fingers.

  “Yes, Davison…yes!” I yell at the top of my lungs, arching my back, my head thrown back as my body shudders in release from the exquisite orgasm he just gave me.

  I milk his cock again and again, opening my eyes in time to see the muscles in his neck straining, desperate for release. When he does come, his head rears back as he roars aloud, his body shaking under mine.

  Davison gathers me in his arms, rolling me onto my side, now lying face-to-face with him. I take a deep breath, inhaling him and his sweat mixed in with his spicy aftershave and the scent of sex that permeates the room.

  “Hmm. Maybe I should stay away from the restaurant more often,” he coos in my ear.

  I shake my head. “No. Bad idea, Harvard.”

  “If it causes these kinds of reactions from you…”

  “For the record, you don’t need to stay away from Le Bistro to get those reactions from me.”

  He cups my face with his hand, stroking my cheek with his fingertips, nodding his head. “I missed you,” he whispers, his eyes soft and tender when he looks at me.

  “I missed you too,” I reply, putting my hand over his to keep it in place. I don’t want him to move. My entire body warms from one single touch of his. I purr in contentment. I love being exactly where I am at this moment.

  * * *

  Not wanting to move, Davison pulls a cashmere blanket from an ottoman, cocooning us in the softest fabric, our bodies entwined, our limbs entangled in each other. We breathe softly, our eyes locked.

  He tilts his head to my hair and breathes deeply. “Coconut?”

  I smile. “Yup. Coconut shampoo, with a hint of brown sugar.”

  “Mmmm,” he murmurs. “I like it. Very mu
ch. So, tell me something.”

  “What?”

  “Am I your first?”

  I look up at him, mouth dropped. “I’m not a virgin, Harvard.”

  He smirks at me. “Yeah, I kind of guessed that part. Allow me to rephrase. Am I your first serious relationship?”

  I pause before I speak. “I suppose you are. I dated one guy on and off through college. Matteo. He lived in Queens. Italian like me. But in the end, when things started getting serious, he turned out to be a commitment-phobe, and we broke up.”

  He smiles. “His loss is my gain.”

  “I just haven’t dated a lot, that’s all,” I snap at him, shutting my eyes when I realize I did for no reason.

  He strokes my cheek. “You don’t need to be defensive with me, baby. I don’t care if you haven’t been with a lot of guys. Honestly, I like that. You were just waiting for me.”

  I roll my eyes, softening at his attempt at levity. “Your arrogance knows no bounds, Berkeley.”

  “Just call them like I see them, Orsini.” He cocks his head at me. “Don’t you want to know about me?”

  “Like I need to.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Please,” I sigh. “I know your sexual history very well, thanks to every tabloid in this city. Which makes me wonder what the hell you’re doing with me.”

  “Hey,” he grunts, gripping my chin hard so he can look straight into my eyes. “Don’t ever talk about yourself that way. Those other women meant nothing to me. I never knew if they were with me because of my money—”

  “Or your looks,” I interject.

  “Yeah, unfortunately,” he sighs. “But they revealed their true intentions to me soon enough, and I just moved on to the next. And then there was Ashton, and when I met you, I just…”

  I wait with bated breath.

  “I just knew.” He smiles so widely. “I looked into those gorgeous brown eyes of yours, and that was it. I didn’t know what I wanted until I met you. Yes, I’ll admit that you’re different from the other women I’ve dated, but you’re so easy to be with. You put me in my place. You’re kind and sweet, and…”

  He leans down and kisses me hard.

  “Sexy as hell,” he ends.

  I hum in gratitude, burrowing my head into the crook of his neck.