Black Ink by N.M. Catalano Page B

asshole.
    He wrapped his hands around my arms and squeezed them tightly, bringing his mouth to mine again.  I jerked my face to the side and his lips landed on my cheek.
    “Come on, babe, I know you’ve got to be lonely.  I’ll fix that.  It used to be good between us.”
    “Stop Tony.  I’m not lonely.  And you’re a married man.”
    “Who are you fucking Gemma?  Is it that slime ball Black?” 
    You’ve got a lot of nerve, your hands are so filthy I don’t know how you can touch your kids!
    He was making me feel dirty and cheap and it was pissing me off.
    “ IF I was fucking anyone, it wouldn’t be any of your business.  Now let me go.”
    “Everything about you is my business now.  Remember the family is taking care of you.”
    Something about the way he’d said it made me feel extremely uneasy.
    “I appreciate it.  But Malcolm is in jail and there’s nothing else he can do to me so you don’t have to worry about me.  I don’t need any help.”
    “Too late Gemma.  It’s already done.”
    With the mob, that could mean so many things.  But my mind couldn’t apply that to me.  I didn’t ask for any help from them, so I felt I wasn’t indebted to them. 
    The salvation of Gina’s voice came from downstairs.  “Hurry up, Gem!  The baby’s getting fidgety.”
    “Gotta go Tony.”
    “It’s not finished Gemma.  It hasn’t even started.”
    Warning bells went off inside my head.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    7 CHAPTER
     
    Gemma
    I’d bought the biggest, blackest pair of sunglasses I could find to hide behind and study everyone I passed in obscurity.  All the men on the trains, on the platforms, the street, even at the coffee shop.  I was certain I’d know The Faceless Man if I saw him, how could I not after being so intimate?  There wasn’t a single man I could recall I’ve looked at with even the slightest interest, forget about attraction.  None but one.  I walk into the office behind my protection and look at that man, Alexander Black, very intently. 
    Oh God... he is too beautiful for words.  Today he is sleek in a light grey Armani double breasted suit, matching tie, and pink shirt.  His dark hair and skin color are stunning against the light colors, his ice blue eyes glowing with intensity
    My body reacts to him of its own accord, heating and pulsing.  It’s even worse now since Friday night and The Faceless Man than before.  The power of the sexual energy between us hits me with such unexpected force my breath catches in my lungs, my breasts actually seem to quiver, and my loins tighten.  My body tingles with the memory of his touch, the places where he’d marked me with black ink seem strongest, like a branding.  My eyelids dip behind their protection recalling the intense arousal. I walk to my desk trying my damnedest to look nonchalant and unaffected.
    It is these times early in the morning when Alexander and I are here alone before the world dumps on us and contaminates the electricity that surges between us that it’s the strongest.  It shines brightly with jolts of energy, sparks crackling threatening to burn us with its strength.  The air pulses with it.
    Doing the same thing I’ve done every morning since I started with Black, I unload my things first, but today I slip my regular glasses on as well. I need to hind behind these barriers between me and the world.  I admit it.  I still feel raw and vulnerable.  I want nothing more than to be as bland as possible.  I head to the bathroom to make sure my reserved mask is believable.  When I return to my desk, I glance at Black in his office, worrying my lip between my teeth.
    I have no reason to b e nervous.  No one knows and no one can see.  It’s your secret.
    I’d fought with myself nonstop all weekend because I didn’t want to call the police and report the intrusion.  I’m still badgering myself about it.
    What is wrong with me?  Am I so pathetic to have a