Sleeping With the Enemy

Sequel: Chapter Six

Anthony

I'll be the first to admit that my life has been pretty easy. I was born into a powerful crime family, I grew up in a fancy mansion in a gated community, and I was groomed for a top position in the Italian Mafia basically from birth. That was part of the reason I was here. My father thought I had too much handed to me and needed some actual experience. I was certainly enjoying myself here with the Avenetti's, but I don't think this was what he intended by experience.

Right now, I was dealing with a fresh hell of watching Gemma try on different versions of the same skimpy bikini. Different colors, but everything else was the same. The strings riding her hips, tiny triangles pushing her tits up, the barely there, lacy fabric. Jesus, did the girl own a one-piece? This was a test no man could possibly have the stamina to pass. I was going to need a serious cold shower before we left, or there would be no denying exactly where my head was at.

She was in her bedroom, modeling each of them in front of her mirror, but from my spot here at the kitchen island, I had a clear view. I could just shift and save myself some misery, but I wasn't about to do that. Maybe I was a masochist. Maybe I enjoyed torturing myself. Because watching Gemma's sexy little body and knowing I couldn't come anywhere near her was the worst torture I'd ever experienced. Yet here I sat.

The curves on that girl. Jesus Christ. I knew she was a runner, but he was even more fit than I expected. Every inch of her was smooth and toned, and she carried herself with a ferocious confidence. It was a breath of fresh air to be around a woman who was so sure of herself. The girls I usually dated were needy and clingy, and so dependent it was nauseating. Gemma was about to take over for her father and lead an entire crime organization. She had her own mind and her own plan, and I found it so fucking hot.

"Are you ready?" Gemma frowned, stepping out of her bedroom. She was in a black bikini and matching cover up, hands on her hips and a dissatisfied frown on those sweet, rosy lips. She didn't want to go to this party any more than I wanted to take her, but for some reason, we were both subjecting ourselves to it.

I wanted to tell her we could just stay here and avoid it entirely, but with Gemma, things had to be her idea.

"All set." I grabbed the car keys.

Gemma eyed me carefully, clearly unimpressed with the swimming trunks, t-shirt, and backward Yankee hat I had settled on. "That's what you're going to wear?"

"Uh, yeah. Didn't you want me to dress less conspicuously?" I threw my arms in the air. Was there any pleasing this woman?

I'm sure there was... maybe with my hands or with my tongue... I could think of plenty of ways to try, and I was more than willing to experiment until I found out. Fuck. No, I had to stop letting my mind wander there.

"Yeah, I did." She said. "I just... you can hide your gun in that thing?"

I rubbed my chin, laughing at the silly look in her eye. "Trust me, Gemma, I don't need a gun to protect you. I've caused more damage with my bare hands than I ever have with a gun."

"Comforting." She pursed her lips. "Come on, we're going to be late."

Gemma and I made small talk on the way into the city, but the closer we got, I realized where we were headed. The address Gemma gave me was right at the center of NYU— a frat house. Jesus, kill me now. Not only did I have to watch for international assassins, I was also going to have to protect Gemma from drunk and impulsive frat guys. I wasn't sure which posed the bigger threat. At least I was familiar with assassins—frat boys were a totally different animal.

When we got to the party, I parked the SUV and Gemma and I headed into the backyard. It was already swarming with drunk college kids. The booze was flowing and everyone was stumbling around acting like complete idiots. We got splashed when some idiot jumped from the elevated patio into the pool. One foot to the right and he would have killed himself, but he surfaced to a roar of applause and headed back up to try again. The yard was littered with beer cans and the music was so loud it was hard to even hear myself think. Was she actually into this kind of thing?