Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles Book 6)

I didn’t plan to slow for Dinara to spend the night at her side. It was a spur of the moment thing when I noticed her car not too far behind me. I didn’t lose too much time to the other cars in the lead by letting her catch up with me, nothing I couldn’t make up for in the races that followed. And even if I didn’t finish the seven-day-race in number one, that wasn’t a problem. I didn’t need the money and would still earn enough points to stay in the race camp. Dinara opened the door of Viper the same time as I turned off my engine of my car, which I’d positioned right beside hers. She barely glanced my way and instead rushed into the darkness toward the back of her car.

I grinned, realizing why, which reminded me of my own problem. After I’d relieved myself in the darkness as well, I leaned against the hood of my car and stared up at the starry sky. This far outside of civilization the stars always shone brightly. Something I missed whenever I was in Las Vegas. I’d always considered myself a city person until I started living long stretches of time in camp in the middle of nowhere.

Dinara advanced on me and propped up her hip against the hood. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

I made an innocent face but she narrowed her eyes. Grinning, I said, “I prefer your company to the company of the two assholes in the lead. And with you, I won’t have to sleep with one eye open to make sure no one manipulates my car.”

Dinara scoffed. “Who says I won’t try to cut through your brake cable? Maybe I’ll even stab you when you’re asleep. I’m Russian, remember?”

Hard to forget. Dinara’s looks had something exotic, especially her high cheekbones. “I’ll take my chances with you.”

Dinara rubbed her arms. She was only in a tank top and those skimpy jean shorts. I wanted nothing more than to run my palms over her smooth legs peeking out of them.“I didn’t pack any food. I don’t suppose we can order takeaway out here, right?”

“I come prepared,” I said with a chuckle and opened my trunk where I stowed a gas stove and a couple of cans with chili, cream of mushrooms soup, and mac and cheese. “Don’t expect too much though.”

Dinara scanned my selection. “I’ve never had mac and cheese before.”

I gave her a disbelieving look. “How can you live in the States without trying it?”

“Our cook is Russian. She cooks recipes from my father’s home, and I didn’t really eat dinner with American families. We stayed among our own.”

That sounded familiar. My brothers and I had always stayed among ourselves too, and my brothers still did. “Then mac and cheese it is. Even if it’s a poor introduction to the dish. You should try my sister-in-law Kiara’s version. It’s out of this world.”

Dinara smiled wryly in the dim light of my trunk. “Maybe we should wait with family introductions until we’ve at least shared a kiss.”

My pulse picked up, my eyes darting to Dinara’s plump mouth, still smiling in that confident way. Fuck. I hadn’t considered kissing her tonight, now it would be all I could think about. “There’ll be a kiss?” I asked with a slow smile as if I hadn’t imagined doing much more.

Dinara took the gas stove out of the trunk and set it down between our cars so it was protected from the breeze before she grabbed a leather jacket and used it as a blanket to sit on. “Do you have a lamp as well? I don’t want to keep my door open.”

I smirked, picking up the can and a gas lamp, and plopped down on the cool ground. Once it cast its eerie light around us, and the mac and cheese was bubbling, I said, “You never answered my question.” I handed Dinara a fork before I turned down the gas flame and poked my own fork into the searing hot mac and cheese.

Dinara did the same and tasted a bite after blowing on it for a while. She chewed a couple of times with a frown. “I don’t know what the fuss is about. Our cats get better food.”

I laughed. “Sorry my provisions aren’t up to your standards.”

She laughed too. “I’m not even a picky eater but this is really bad. I don’t know if I’ll give this another chance.”

“Trust me, if done right it’s delicious.”

“Maybe one day your Kiara can convince me.” She put another forkful into her mouth. “Kissing would be a very bad idea considering who we are.”

I met her gaze. In the dim light from the gas lamp, the luminous teal of her eyes appeared like the dark green of fir sprigs. “Opponents?”

“That. Among other things. It would be a fateful liaison that’s sure to stir up shit in the Bratva and Camorra.”

I grinned. “I like trouble.”

Dinara shook her head and leaned back on her elbows while I finished the food. “Why did you really seek my closeness tonight? And don’t say to kiss me. If you hope to extract information from me, I should warn you that I’m very good at keeping secrets.”

“I’m very good at extracting them,” I said, leaning back as well so we were at eye level.

Dinara tilted her head. “Are you the wolf in the sheep’s hide, Adamo?”

“Do I look like a sheep to you?” I asked, mildly offended.

“I think you hide your Falcone madness better than your brothers do. I bet those surfer curls and charming smiles trick quite a few people into believing that you’re the nice guy.”

“Maybe I am.”

Dinara shifted her weight to one elbow, resting on her side, bringing us even closer. She peered into my eyes and for a moment I was certain she saw everything. “Maybe you want to be. But we are who we are. I am a Mikhailov and you are a Falcone. Our paths aren’t on the light side.”

“That’s the Russian soul being melancholic.”

“That’s the realist.” Dinara let out a yawn and closed her eyes briefly. “What time is it?”

I didn’t have to check my phone to know the time. The sun was rising on the horizon, which meant it had to be around six in this part of the country. “Six. Sleeping time.”NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

Dinara nodded. “I’m afraid to ask after the whole toilet break debacle, but do we get the chance to shower during the seven days? I’m not sure I can go without a proper wash and shave that long.”

I chuckled. “We have two sanitary trailers with showers that drive around. Sometime tomorrow it should stop here too.”

Dinara pushed to her feet and I did the same, which brought us both very close. With a teasing smile, Dinara turned and opened her car, crawling inside. She kicked her boots off and stretched out on the back seat.

The way she lay before me was way too inviting. I wanted nothing more than to crawl inside with her and find out if her belly piercing was the only piece of body art she had.

“Can you close my door?” Dinara’s words burst right through my bubble. I did as she asked and after I’d extinguished the lamp, I made myself comfortable on the back seat of my car. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep. Despite Dinara’s words, I didn’t worry about her manipulating my car.

I woke to the sound of another car and jerked upright, scanning my surroundings blearily. When I spotted the sanitary trailer, I relaxed. A glimpse at my phone revealed it was almost noon and I’d gotten ten messages from Remo, Kiara, Fabiano, Savio, and C.J., most of them wondering why I’d fallen back. Of course, one of the drone cameras had filmed the leading trio. I ignored their messages and climbed out of my car.

When I glimpsed into Dinara’s car, she was still stretched out on the back seat, deep asleep. Her palms rested on her belly, cradling a gun. Dinara definitely had trust issues. I, too, had a gun in my car and had kept it under my pillow on the back seat, but I didn’t hang on to it as if it were my lifeline. I wondered if she’d thought she might need it against me, or if it was a more general precaution.

I nodded toward the guy riding the sanitary truck. “How long do we got?”

“Ten minutes for two.”

I nodded then grabbed a towel and rushed into the bathroom on the trailer of the truck. I didn’t wait for the water to get warm, not wanting to waste too much time. Dinara probably needed a bit more time, considering her longer hair. That’s something I’d learned living in the Falcone mansion with my brothers’ wives.

I resisted the urge to wank off while imagining Dinara taking a shower—the cold water helped with that—and instead hurried through the shower. I towel-dried myself hurriedly before I slipped on boxers and black jeans. The shirt in my hand, I stepped back outside. In the three minutes it had taken me to shower the temperature seemed to have increased ridiculously.

Dinara must have woken by the constant hum of the truck engine because she waited in front of it with fresh clothes and a towel in her arms. She yawned. Some of her mascara had smudged under her eyes and her hair was all over the place, but she still looked eye-catching. A dot of color and excitement in our barren surroundings. Endless sand and stone and dusty roads. “I was starting to wonder if I needed to join you for the shower before the time was up and I didn’t get a chance to clean up.”

“I took only three minutes. That gives your seven luxurious minutes.”

After hearing her suggestion of showering together, I regretted not having prolonged my session.

Dinara moved past me with a small smile. “Thank you. I don’t think showering with you would have been a good idea anyway.”

With that, she disappeared inside and closed the door.

I pressed out air, unsure how to handle Dinara’s flirting because I wasn’t sure if she really meant it or was playing with me. Maybe both. But every day I cared a little less about the latter. Two could play a game.

I let the hot midday sun dry my hair even if that increased my curls. Women loved them and I preferred that they made me look different than my brothers.

The driver had already put a bag with provisions on each of our hoods, and I grabbed mine and took a bite of the chocolate muffin as I waited for Dinara to emerge. When she finally did, I almost choked on my bite. She was dressed in her usual jean shorts, boots, and tank top, but for the first time since I’d known her, her top was white and clung to her body. Her hair was dripping water down her shoulders and front, slowly turning the fabric transparent. After a wave at the driver, Dinara headed toward me. My eyes were magically drawn to the outline of her perky breasts through the sheer fabric and the piercing in her left nipple. Dinara grabbed her breakfast and propped herself up against the hood of my car.

The corners of her mouth twitched with amusement. “If it bothers you, wait for the sun to dry my top. It won’t take long.”

I’d never be able to unsee Dinara’s nipple piercing, nor stop wondering how it would be to play with it. I could only imagine how much more sensitive it made her breasts.

“It’s a pleasant sight,” I said with a smirk once I’d torn my eyes away from her chest.

Dinara let out a laugh before snatching her own muffin and taking a large bite.

“Did it hurt worse than the belly button?” I asked eventually, unable to stifle my curiosity.

Dinara nodded. “Yeah. It hurt like hell, but I’ve had worse and I really love the result.” When I risked another glance at her left breast, I realized the piercing had gemstones on both ends but the fabric didn’t allow me to make out more. The sound of a drone camera made us move apart and Dinara slipped inside her car. She’d avoided being interviewed so far and didn’t seek the cameras at all.

That didn’t change over the next few days. She and I spent three more nights in the same place, but the longer the race lasted the less we talked. Exhaustion was too prominent. But even just sitting beside Dinara in front of the blue gas flame felt right. I enjoyed her company, maybe because she treated me like a normal guy, no reverence or respect. I had a feeling she wouldn’t hesitate to kick my ass if I pulled some shit.

I waited for her to bring up her mother or my brothers again but she didn’t. Maybe it was tactic and I definitely was still wary of her. She had a reason to be here, and yet I couldn’t stay away from her.

On the last two nights, however, I made sure to keep up with the leading duo. Dinara and two other cars followed us not too far away. I finished second, maybe I could have won if I hadn’t decided to spend a few nights at Dinara’s side, but I didn’t regret it. She managed to finish in fourth place. Dima, whose injuries had hindered him as expected, came in as one of the last. He looked royally pissed during the awards ceremony, especially when my name was called as second.

He stepped up beside Dinara who watched everything with crossed arms.

There were seven days until the next race now.

When I stepped down from the winners’ rostrum with a bottle of champagne, Dinara headed my way. I shook off a few of the pit girls who came to congratulate me and find out if my stance on fucking them had changed—it hadn’t.

“You’re not just words and a big name, Adamo. You can race a car, I got to hand it to you,” Dinara said.

I grinned. “Thanks. It’s not my only talent.”

Dinara raised one eyebrow. “Maybe one day you’ll show me your other talents.”

I took a swig from the champagne then held out the bottle to Dinara. “Whenever you want.” Dinara took the bottle and drank a few gulps before handing it back to me and leaning close.

“Maybe after the next race. Until then I’ll have to head back to Chicago.”

“Next race,” I promised.

Her lips brushed my stubbled cheek—I’d cut my beard yesterday because it had become too untamed. Her eyes captured mine and fuck, I was a goner. I wanted to drag her toward my car, set up a tent and devour her.

I hadn’t seen C.J. in a couple of weeks and I would have stayed in camp and not returned home after the seven-day-race if I didn’t know I had to settle things with her as soon as possible. It didn’t feel right to have her in the background when my mind kept revolving around someone else, even if she and I weren’t in a relationship. The promise of a kiss and more had lingered between Dinara and me these last few days and I definitely wanted to make good on that promise.

The moment I stepped into C.J.’s apartment she made a move as if to kiss me but I grabbed her shoulders, stopping her. “I—”

“There’s someone,” she said immediately, smiling knowingly. The hint of hesitation flickered across her expression. She took a step back. As usual, she was only in a negligee and for a moment, I considered taking my words back. I owed Dinara nothing, and C.J. and I weren’t exclusive…

Yet, I cared too much about C.J. to keep her in the dark.

“Not really. Not yet. Maybe never—”

She motioned me inside and closed the door. “But your interest is piqued. I think it’s so un-Falcone of you to not sleep around even when you’re still unsure about the girl.”

I sank down on her sofa with a dark laugh. “Don’t make me sound like a saint. I’m not.”

C.J. covered herself with a bathrobe before she lowered herself beside me. “In comparison to your brothers you are.”

“I’m not the guy you first met,” I muttered. This was one of the reasons why I didn’t often return to Vegas. People always mistook me for the boy I had been, when I’d changed irrevocably over the years.

She smiled wistfully. “I’ll miss the orgasms. Sex with johns never does anything for me.”

“You should quit and only work in the bar, then you can find a boyfriend who’ll give orgasms to you.”

She shrugged. “Soon. Until then I can use the money. Will we still see each other?”

I hesitated. I wanted to see her because beside the sex we’d shared many meaningful conversations but I wasn’t sure if being just friends would come easily. I wasn’t sure about C.J.’s true feelings about me. “I’ll be pretty busy with racing in the next few months, but I want to stay friends.”

C.J. pursed her lips. “I’m a big girl, Adamo. I can be only friends with you.”

“How about we just see how it goes, this just being friends-business?”

She nodded.

When I left her apartment an hour later, a weight had lifted off my shoulders. I realized my sexual relationship with C.J. had stopped me from pursuing Dinara like I wanted to do, but now nothing was in the way anymore.

Maybe Dinara was a bad idea. Most likely even, but I wanted her, and this wasn’t about big emotions or marriage. I wanted fun and I had a feeling Dinara was the same way, even if she also had ulterior motives for seeking my closeness.

Dinara

Something about Adamo’s behavior was different when he returned from his Vegas trip. He seemed less distant, and the looks he gave me didn’t need much interpretation. Adamo wanted to get into my pants. I didn’t not want him to try. I was attracted to Adamo. He was the complete opposite of Dima, my only boyfriend, and maybe that made out part of his special appeal. Dima, of course, noticed as well which soured his dark mood even further since his disastrous results in the seven-day-race.

He and I sat on one of the logs arranged around the roaring firepit in the center of camp after the first race since the seven-day-circuit. Many of the other racers were also present, chatting and drinking to celebrate another more or less successful racing day. Dima’s injuries had healed and he’d finished fifth, one place behind me today. Adamo had won, which probably made Dima resent him even more.

“If you keep finishing fifth or fourth until the five-day-circuit later in the year then you’ll still finish with a decent place for the year.”

Dima huffed. “You know I don’t care about the results. I’m only here because of you, Dinara. But you make my task of protecting you very hard the way you always run off with Falcone.”

“I didn’t run off with him. You drove too slowly to keep up with us.”

He didn’t say anything, only glared into the flames. I accepted a cup with some kind of punch from one of the mechanics. It was too sweet for my taste but the other racers and especially the pit girls seemed to love it. Half a bottle of vodka might have made it tolerable.

My eyes followed a tall form as it approached the scene. Adamo sank down on a log across from me with the fire between us. Our eyes met and a pleasant shiver raced down my back at the look on his face. His dark eyes appeared black in the fire light as they traced my body. I’d never felt like this: as if a simple look could light me on fire. I wasn’t sure I appreciated the sensation of my body doing what it wanted.

Adamo raised his cup, toasting me. I did the same and we both took a gulp and grimaced simultaneously. I couldn’t help but laugh and Adamo’s face flashed with an answering grin.

Dima cursed low under his breath and shoved to his feet. “I’m off to bed.”

“We don’t have a race tomorrow. You don’t need to get your beauty sleep,” I said, even though I kind of wanted him to leave so I could interact with Adamo without Dima’s surveillance. Even if I didn’t owe Dima anything, flirting in front of him felt wrong.

Dima nodded in the general direction of Adamo. “I’m sure he’ll keep you company.” He turned and headed into the darkness.

I sighed but didn’t follow him. Soon a shadow fell over me. “Is that spot beside you occupied?”

I peered up into Adamo’s handsome face and shook my head. “It’s yours.”

He sank down, closer than Dima had been and our arms brushed. Goose bumps rose all over my body. “The drinks aren’t much better than the food,” I said with a nod toward the punch.

Adamo shrugged. “This isn’t a luxury cruise,” he said. “And don’t tell me vodka is such a gourmet treat.”

“Vodka wins against this sweet atrocity. And what do you know about Russian cuisine? Name one Russian dish.”

Adamo narrowed his eyes in thought. “Borscht?”

“That was a lucky guess. Have you ever had it?”

“No. Beet isn’t really my thing.”

“But mushy pasta with fake cheese sauce is?”

Adamo propped his elbows up on his thighs, his bicep flexing distractingly. My eyes strayed to his marred Camorra tattoo. The handle and tip of the dagger were still intact but the area of the blade where the watchful eye had been was disfigured by burn scars. I knew the general story of how it had come to look like this. The Outfit, an opposing Italian mob family in Chicago, had tortured him but I was curious about more details. Asking for details might prompt Adamo into asking more personal questions, though, and that wasn’t something I wanted.

He leaned a bit closer. “What Russian dish would you have me eat if we ever went on a date?”

My heart beat a bit faster. I braced myself on my thighs as well, bringing our faces even closer. “Pelmeni or Pirozhki. Nothing better than sinking your teeth into warm dough to discover a tasty, sizzling filling within.” My voice was low, seductive. Not a tone I usually used to describe food, or at any other time.

I didn’t mention my favorite khachapuri because that felt too personal.

Adamo nodded and a slow smile spread on his face. “I can’t wait to get a taste.”

My core tightened, catching me by surprise. Our eyes stayed locked together and if possible, our faces had gotten even closer. The laughter from a pit girl made me pull back. I didn’t want people to see us get cozy. “This place is too crowded. And I need a decent drink. How about you join me for a vodka at my car?”

I wasn’t sure what I was doing. This had never been part of my plan. Adamo tilted his head. “Lead the way.”

I rose to my feet, feeling an unpleasant sense of nervousness. I didn’t wait for him and stalked to my car. It was parked at the very edge of camp, cloaked by complete darkness. Dima’s car was gone. Maybe he’d parked it somewhere else out of anger, or he’d gone in search of a bar where he could drink himself into a stupor for once. He’d be looking for a long time.

I grabbed the half-full bottle of vodka from my trunk and sat down on the hood of my car. Adamo leaned beside me. After a swig from the bottle, I handed it to him. Our shoulders brushed and my body reacted with a flood of sensations, most prominent and surprising: desire. I swallowed.

Adamo held the bottle out to me. I took it and downed an even longer swig.

“Vodka is starting to grow on me. Maybe I have a thing for Russian delicacies.”

I tilted my head toward him. “They are the best.”

“I need proof.”

Adamo cupped my neck, startling me and pressed his lips to mine. My first reaction was to shove him away, even as my body screamed for more. My fingers curled around his strong shoulders for the shove but instead I dug my nails in and leaned even closer.

Adamo’s other hand gripped my hip as his tongue parted my lips, tasting me. His kiss was dominance and fire, and it set me aflame in unexpected ways.

The way our tongues teased each other and our lips perfectly molded together felt as if this was more than a chance meeting. Adamo’s hand slid up from my hip, stroking along my ribs, spreading even more fire in its wake. My nipples puckered against my T-shirt. I hadn’t bothered wearing a bra because the fabric was loose and my breasts weren’t very big.

Adamo’s fingertips stroked the underside of one breast before his thumb brushed over my nipple, discovering my piercing. Heat and wetness pooled between my legs at the spike in pleasure. I stifled a moan, trying to rein in my body’s overwhelming reaction. His thumb flicked my piercing and a gasp of pleasure burst from my lips. He seemed to control my body with only a few touches. My body yearned for more, my brain demanded control.

Control. I needed it.

I jerked free of Adamo’s hold and his intoxicating kiss, panting and tingling all over.