Free Filthy: A Bad Boy Romance by Katherine Lace Page A

have dessert.”
    “Ah, so there was a method to your madness.”
    “Always.”
    Watching her eat tiramisu is like watching her have an orgasm. I can barely focus on my wedge of chocolate cake. All I want to do is focus on her face and think about what I could do to put that same kind of ecstasy there. My dick’s gone hard—no surprise there—and my hands twitch with a need to touch her. Finally I give up and lay my fork down.
    She finishes a few seconds later and gives me a look like she knows exactly what I’ve been thinking. At least she’s smiling again. The faint redness her tears left around her eyes has faded.
    “We should get out of here,” I suggest. “You want to go someplace a little more…”
    I don’t even have to finish the sentence. She knows just where I’m going with that. “Yes. I do.”
    #
    With the bill paid and a generous tip tucked under one of the empty plates, we head out of the restaurant. I’ve got one thing on my mind—getting inside Jessica. She’s relaxed, far more than she’s been all night. Whether it was the wine, the coffee, or the tiramisu, I don’t care. Whatever’s going to get her into my bed is fine with me. Her hand clamped in mine, I’ve got a one-track mind and I’m not afraid to use it.
    Then, suddenly, she stops. I pull up short, still holding her hand and realizing she’s not moving. I turn around.
    Well. Just when I thought we were going to get out of here without any issues. Joy.
    Carmine Romano is standing just behind us in the restaurant lobby. He’s got hold of Jessica’s elbow, and he’s eyeing her up and down like she’s a piece of meat. I turn to face them both.
    “Is there something I can do for you?”
    “You can take your goddamn hands off my fiancée, for one.”
    That takes me aback for about a half second. Then I remember what Jess said earlier: marry the man Pop wants me to marry. This guy? Seriously?
    I don’t let go of Jessica’s hand. Instead I turn my attention fully to her. “Jess, do you know this guy?” Dumb question. Of course she does; he’s her dad’s right-hand asshole.
    “Yes.”
    “Are you his fiancée?”
    “No,” she shoots back, her spine straightening.
    I give Carmine a look—one of those that makes people cower when they catch it across the ring. Carmine flinches, but only slightly.
    “She’s with me.”
    “Oh really?” He’s got his smug back, and he’s wearing it like a jacket. It doesn’t suit him.
    “Take your fucking hands off her.”
    We’re gathering some attention, and I don’t like that. I give Carmine’s hand a meaningful look; he’s still got hold of Jessica’s elbow.
    He leaves his hand where it is for a long moment, just long enough to make it clear he’s letting her go because he wants to, not because I told him to. We’ll see about that.
    “You’ve been sleeping around with this prick behind my back? You fucking whore.” His mouth twists around the ugly words, making them even uglier.
    I try not to jerk at Jessica’s hand, instead drawing her more gently back to my side. That strange urge to protect her has welled up inside me again. Maybe there really is a decent guy down in there, inside me somewhere. Not likely, but I suppose anything’s possible. I ease her partially behind me and face Carmine squarely.
    “You want to take that back.”
    “No, I don’t.”
    “That wasn’t a question.”
    His eyes narrow. He’s not much shorter than me, and he’s not exactly out of shape. But I know he’s not a fighter. He works out—I see him at the gym sometimes—but he’s built his muscle for looks, not for strength, speed, or anything useful. I can take him with one hand tied behind my back. Shit, I could probably take him with both hands tied behind my back. He ought to know this, but I get the feeling he doesn’t.
    “She’s been promised to me since we were kids. You know that, Jess. It’s what your dad wants.” His voice is smarmy, cloying.
    I really, really want to