REMEDY: A Mafia Romance (Return to Us Trilogy Book 3) (17 page)

"I'm Pierce. I'll be your server. Tonight we'll be starting with a Maine lobster bisque followed by grilled filet mignon in brandy mustard sauce accompanied by caramelized fennel and Persian figs. Finally, a coffee-caramel crème brûlée."

"Thank you, Pierce," Jacade says.

Jacade swirls his wine and takes a sip. I focus on his tongue darting out to lick a bead from his lips.

"No one has ever done anything like this for me." I wave my hand in the air. "Thank you."

"Get used to it, dear. You're the boss's woman now. For the rest of your life, you're gonna be spoiled beyond your wildest dreams."

The rest of my life? Is he going to propose? No… The fancy outfit, the Hershey's Kisses, and now a candlelight dinner at Wrigley Field?

What if he does? Would I say yes? It's only been a handful of months… but I love him to the depths of my soul. I risked my life to save his. I know he'd do the same for me.

"Ivy?"

I glance up and Jacade's staring at me. Oh no, what did he say? I was too focused on the possibility of becoming Mrs. Hot Ass Doc.

"Yeah?"

"Your soup's getting cold." He points with his spoon.

When did the soup come? I dip my spoon and sip. Mmm, buttery and warm. "So, I thought you said no spontaneous events."

He raises his eyebrows. "I've had this planned since the first night I came to your apartment."

"Really?"

"Yep. Had to postpone it while you recovered, but I've wanted to bring you here since I saw the pennants above your bed in your room. I figured if you hung them over your bed, it must be important to you."

"It is. I love the Cubs. Gotta have faith in the underdog."

"I like the Cubs too, and I've always wanted to come here."

"How come you've never been?"

"Not much time or purpose for leisure in my life. Not until now."

Pierce delivers the main entrée. The filet mignon melts in my mouth.

"That's very observant of you to notice the pennants over my bed."

"I notice everything."

Jacade sits back to allow Pierce to set an expertly burned crème brûlée ramekin and two spoons in the middle of the table. Does he think I'm sharing this with Jacade?

"Thank you."

"My pleasure." Pierce ushers off with our dirty dishes.

My spoon taps on the top layer of burnt sugar and breaks through with a snap. The chocolate caramel custard with the crunchy sugar top explodes in an orchestra of flavor to my taste buds. "Mmm."

"I could watch you eat that for centuries." Jacade's eyes are transfixed on my mouth.

"Aren't you gonna have any?" My spoon digs in for the second bite.

"My attention is elsewhere at the moment."

"C'mon. It's so good. Try it." I reach my full spoon to his face and dab the custard on his cheek, making sure to coat the dimple. He sees it coming but lets me smudge it on his face anyway.

Rising from my chair and leaning my hands on the table, I move toward him and lick the indentation that has starred in my dreams for weeks.

He stays still and stares at my boobs for a second, then turns his head to catch me in a kiss. He wraps his palm behind my head and pulls me closer.

Take me, Jacade. Right here on this table.

He pulls away and coughs, looking up at the night sky.

I didn't even realize the sun had set and the sky had turned a pristine peacock blue.

He stands and takes my hand. "Come. I have something to show you."

"Okay. Let me take off my shoes first." I toss my napkin on the table and bend to remove my shoes.

He guides me out to the pitcher's mound and stands behind me, his hands over mine at my waist.

Click
!

Blinding lights fill the shadowy space. The massive ivy-covered outfield walls are lit with bright spotlights.

"This is what I feel when I'm with you."

"What do you mean?"

His gaze peruses the twinkling ivy leaves.

"You're mine. My Ivy, the beacon guiding me back when I'm lost in the darkness of my life."

"Oh, Jacade." My breath hiccups as I stifle a tear.

He turns me to face him and wipes the moisture away with the pad of his thumb. "Hey. No crying."

"I'm sorry. They're happy tears." I sniff and dab at my eyes to keep my makeup set.

He presses his fingers to his phone and slips it into his suit jacket. The sultry song "Let It Be Me" by Ray LaMontagne hums from his pocket. His left hand intertwines with my right, and he rests our hands against his chest. We sway cheek-to-cheek to the music.

I'm slow dancing with Jacade on the pitcher's mound at Wrigley Field! Is this a dream?

The melody ends, and he lays his forehead on mine.

He presses a chaste kiss to my lips.

Oh no. Is this the moment? Is he going to get on one knee? What should I do?

"Race ya!" I take off running toward home plate.

He laughs and his shoes crunch on the gravel as he chases me.

I round home plate and head to first base. Oh shit! He's right behind me!

He tickles my waist as he passes me.

Between second and third, he turns and runs backward. "Hey, babe. You gonna catch up soon?"

Darting around third, I stumble over my own feet. "Ow!" I hop on one leg, holding my knee.

Jacade runs to me. "Are you okay?" He crouches to inspect my knee.

"I think so. Probably shouldn't have run without shoes on." I test putting weight on it and walk past him.

As he's examining my gait, I full-out sprint home and stomp on the plate. I whip around and point at him. "Ha! You fell for it."

He watches me do a lame running man on home plate.

"I won. Suck on that, Dr. Jordan!"

"Cheater. I demand a rematch." Jacade jogs to me.

"Nope. You lost."

He gathers me in his arms, and our ragged breaths mix in the cold air.

"No. I didn't." He smiles and kisses my lips.

"This is wondrous," I whisper.

"Only because you're here."

"Don't make me cry again."

He pulls back to look at me. "What if I make you scream instead?" His mouth turns up at the corners.

"I always want that."

"I'm taking you to the suites."

"I want you to take me to the suites." I press my hands to his chest and give him my weight. I peek up at him through my lashes. "On one condition."

He chuckles. "What's that, my love?"

"Take me to suite D. I want to try the spinner."

His fingers dig into my hips. "The spinner was already on the menu. You game?"

"Yes." I am. I'm ready for this. With him.

Oof! The air rushes out of me as he scoops me up in his arms.

"Ah!" I laugh as he carries me back to the tunnel.

I point to the table. "But my pretty shoes!"

He kicks the door open. "I'll buy you more."

"Jacade!" You don't leave Louboutins behind for any reason.

He growls. "Fine." He spins, and my hair flies behind us as he runs back to the table. He puts my feet down but keeps one arm around me.

"Here." He hands me the pretty shoes. "Now let's fuck."

Ivy

Jacade whips his car into the parking lot behind the mansion housing Ellis Suites. He arches his neck to look into my eyes. "Ready?"

Hell yes, I am!

"Yes, I'm ready."

He climbs out of the driver's seat and struts around to my side. With my hand in his, he leads me to the back entrance of the old brick building. He holds the heavy wooden door ajar, and I duck under his arm. His hand grabs mine, and I follow him through a noiseless yet spotless kitchen and into the bar.

He pulls a barstool out for me and then sits down next to me. He waves to a handsome Latino male bartender at the end of the bar.

"A scotch and a white wine," Jacade says to the bartender.

The bartender places two napkins in front of us and sets our drinks down.

Jacade types a quick text on his burner phone and slips it back in his slacks. He swivels to me on the barstool, and our knees clinch together like the teeth of a zipper.

"Jude's going to assist me with the spinner. He's teaching a class upstairs. We'll wait here for him."

A class? What kind of class would they have here?

"Like a master class for sex?" I whisper.

He chuckles and lifts the tumbler to his lips. I focus on the coarse black dots of stubble on his Adam's apple as he swallows. He leans close to my ear, and his warm breath tickles my cheek. "Jude is a master dom. Couples pay top dollar to train with him."

Say what? Oh my god, Jude is hard-core. And how hot would it be to have him as a teacher? I wonder if that whip engraved with the word
Dominus
was his?

Jacade's caress of the bare skin behind my knee sends a tickle of heat down my leg. "Have you ever taken one of his classes?"

He laughs. "No. Not my thing."

Well, now that makes sense. Jacade doesn't need any training.

"Are you a master dom too?"

"Nah. Jude takes everything to extremes."

"Have you ever had a sub?" Do I want to know?

"I've never collared a sub. If I couldn't have you, I didn't want anyone to be mine."

"Have you been with a lot of women as a dom?"

"Not as many as you'd think. Med school and fighting took most of my focus. There were a handful of women, but that's it. It wasn't fulfilling for me. The council forced me to be with Kara, but I always wished I were with you."

"So, if there were only a handful, you must have had women you were with regularly?"

"Yes. A few I could trust and that trusted me. Inevitably and understandably, they would get attached to me. I cared for them but never wanted anything permanent. I stopped coming here after I rescued you three years ago. If it couldn't be you, I didn't want to be here."

My bangs flutter in my lashes. "Did you ever sleep with Amber?"

His lips form a thin straight line. "No. I don't fuck hookers. No woman should ever feel desperate enough to sell sex for money."

"I didn't know she was a hooker. How's she doing?"

"She's good. Recovered. She's off the streets. Conroy convinced her."

"Conroy? Or you?" I bet it was him.

"Both. Amber's a good girl. She's gonna go to school."

"You're her benefactor."

"Please, Ivy. Stop making me out to be a good guy. I'm not."

"You are."

I bend and angle my neck for a kiss. He leans in and presses his magic lips to mine. His index finger drifts across my forehead, separating the bit of my bangs from my lashes. He trails his finger down my cheek.

"It's a huge turn-on how naturally submissive you are. Nothing sexier than my strong woman allowing herself the pleasure of letting her guard down."

"It felt natural to give myself to you." I hungered for him to take control of me, body and mind. I gave him all of me, all at once. I didn't have to make decisions because I trusted him to know what's best for me. It was freeing. Probably why I'm back here tonight with the man I love.

"Since that first time, I've pushed your limits, and you've risen to the challenge. I like that you're still adventurous and brave like you were at eighteen."

His fingertips graze up my inner thigh, rousing heat from my belly. He grips and squeezes my leg much too high for a public place, but we're close enough no one can see. He gently sucks on my bottom lip. He sits back in his chair waiting for me to ask another question. I have no questions. Touch me again. Press your velvet lips to mine again. This time bite and growl and pull.

Jude jogs up and slaps Jacade on the back. "Little bro! How're you doin' on this fine evening?"

Jacade coughs and removes his hand from my thigh. The impression tingles like his hand is still there.

Jude's dressed like a teenager who threw on random clothes because his parents pulled up in the driveway while he was screwing his girlfriend. He gathers his sun-streaked mop in his fingers, but it flips back to just-fucked.

"Ivy, good to see you." His eyes skim my outfit. "You look striking, as always." He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my fingers, his gaze darting to my cleavage.

"Hi, Jude."

He holds my hand in front of his lips, and the corners of his eyes crinkle. "Are we in a hospital?" he asks oddly.

"No."

"Are we strangers?"

"No."

"Then you call me Jett," he decrees in a dangerous tone.

Huh. "And you call me Jane, Tarzan?"

Jude's muscles stiffen, and he blinks twice.

Jacade coughs and narrows his eyebrows at Jude. "Let go of her hand."

Jude—uh, Jett—swivels his eyes to Jacade but keeps his head pointed at me. A wolfish smile unfurls on his face. "Lighten up, brother. I'm just getting acquainted with your girl." He kisses my fingers again. "I can see why she's captured your attention."

Jacade growls and stands. He pulls me off my stool by my waist and smashes me to his side. My hand slips out of Jett's and flies to Jacade's chest for balance.

"Shall we?" Jacade angles his head toward the gilded grand staircase in the lobby.

"You ready?" Jett's smile brightens his deep-set eyes.

Shoot, he's too much. I drop my chin to my chest.

"Don't be bashful, Ivy. The spinner is one of my greatest inventions."

One of them? I wonder what else he's invented.

Jacade's arm squeezes me tighter and his torso tenses. Jett whacks his palm to Jacade's shoulder. "Did he tell you he can throw a hatchet and pop a balloon the size of a quarter from twenty feet away?" Jett beams with pride.

"No, he didn't. Might have to show me that sometime," I say with a smirk.

Jacade flashes me his wide grin and dimple. Oy vey. He may not be a master dom like his brother, but he's every bit as lethal.

"C'mon. The suite should be ready to go." Jett saunters away.

Jacade leads me up the staircase behind Jett. My eyes glance up and feast upon Jett's ass cheeks popping up and down, followed by Jacade's bobbing as if he's on a Stairmaster. This is the most scenic set of stairs I've ever climbed.

At the end of the hallway, Jett unlocks and turns the knob to suite D. My heart hammers in my chest as he slowly opens the door and stands aside for me to pass. The room is more stark than I remember. Sparse, rustic furniture made of wrought iron, weathered wood floors with deep dark grooves in the grains, black suede fabric on the couches and massive bed. Jacade's heat against my back is the only welcoming element here.

Jett presses the flat screen, and a panel opens up in the wall.

There it is, the spinner. I'm dumbfounded. How can you strap a human being to this mechanism for pleasure? I'm about to find out.

"Step on up, Ivy." Jett tilts his head toward the contraption. "I'm gonna be fitting the straps for you."

Jacade crosses his arms and plants his feet. I catch a glimpse of his gun on his belt. He frowns and pulls his phone from his pocket. "Sorry, Ivy. I gotta take this."

"Okay,
Trip
."

He presses his lips to a thin line. "You call me Jacade… or Sir."

I grin at him as he answers the call.

"Hold on." Jacade gives Jett a warning look and points a finger. "No funny business. I'll be right outside the door."

"No worries, brother. I'll take good care of her."

What? Jett's doing what to me?

Jacade kisses my cheek. "Talk," he says into his phone as he exits the suite.

"Ivy, come on." Jett waves me over with his hand.

My shoes scrape across the wood floors with my shuffled steps. I'm standing in front of the wheel of death, not with my vigorous and stimulating man, but with his master dom older brother. I have no idea what I'm doing, and Jett's the creator of this gratification apparatus.

"Step on up, darlin'." I take a hesitant step forward, and he chuckles. "Considering what you're about to do, this isn't the time to be shy."

He looks down at my elaborate heels and the leaves trailing up my calves. "Shoes off."

I hold his hand for support as I bend to remove my shoes. I straighten, and Jett's long fingers circle my waist. His thumbs dig into my flesh on the front and the pads of his fingers on my back. I wonder how many women he's touched with those fingers.

He lifts my hips and pushes my back up against the solid wood of the spinner.

"Feet on the pegs." Jett's voice turns unforgiving.

I balance my feet on the thin foot pegs and stare at his threadbare white T-shirt stretching taut over the scaffolds of his abs. A feathered cluster of soft brown hair peeps out above the button fly of his faded jeans. There's no way he's wearing briefs if I can see the trailhead to pleasure. No way.

With one hand pressing on my belly, he bends and yanks on the foot pegs. I gasp as my legs pop open. He adjusts a strap over my ankle and buckles in one leg. He moves to my other foot and repeats the procedure.

He stands to look me in the eye. "Comfortable?"

"Yes."

He frowns and crouches to my feet again. He wrenches the pegs out another foot, spreading my legs unnaturally wide. My thighs stick out of the panels of the dress. Ugh! I'm so exposed!

"Arms above your head."

I raise my arms and do what I'm told because I have a feeling I've just come face-to-face with Master Jett.

"Place the backs of your hands flat against the wood."

The force of his low-pitched, profound voice pushes my hands flat and arches my back.

My breasts jostle up in the air. Jett's eyes follow the peaks of my nipples as my chest juts out. Forgive me, Father, for having impure thoughts about my boyfriend's brother.

I close my eyes and envision Jacade with me—not his extremely hot but uncouth older brother!

The wheel of death shakes and rattles with his sharp tug on the wrist straps above my head. He lowers the position of the strap to match my height. His heat moves closer to me as he loops the strap through the buckle.

His hard cock presses into my hip.

I swallow loudly.

"Open your eyes."

My eyes unseal.

Jett stands in front of me scowling. "Stand up straight."

He's angry? Is this about the Tarzan comment? I was just joking, Master Jett.

He slides the strap at my waist up to my ribcage. His fingertips graze the bottom of my breasts as he works the buckles. He reeks of woodsy cologne and sweaty sex with touches of floral perfume. A second strap above my breasts squashes them tight and isolates them from the rest of my body. They stick out like monoliths in his face. The fabric of the dress pulls back, revealing more of my skin.

I turn my head, hoping my hair will cover the blush in my cheeks. All I can imagine is being Eiffel towered by two hot ass doctor brothers.

Jett works the belt into the buckle near my armpit. His muscular forearm brushes my taut nipple.

My breath catches in my throat.

"Fuck. I gotta get out of here," Jett mumbles.

The straps on my wrists snap open, shockingly fast compared to the time it took to buckle them. The pressure around my ribcage releases, and I wobble on the pegs as my feet are briskly freed.

"You're good. Step down."

I stand completely stiff with my hands above my head, my breasts heaving, and my cheek to my bicep. I peek out one eye. He holds out a hand to help me down. Oh. I take an unsteady step down. As soon as my feet hit the floor, Jett beelines to the door.

"Jude, wait!" I scamper behind him.

He halts with his hand on the doorknob. "Jett." His grip is so tight, the vein in his forearm pulses.

"I'm sorry. Jett…"

His eyes scan my body. "What do you want?"

Why is he so angry? Does he know what I was thinking on the wheel? Maybe he's mad at himself for getting turned on too. It's okay. It's a natural reaction. As long as we don't start making out, we're safe.