the beat, Renzo’s hands came up to cup her throat and jaw. He moved in fast because all he could think about was what does she taste like? The second his lips touched hers—soft and slow at first—electricity zipped through his body like a jolt waking him up from a dead sleep. That first taste wasn’t nearly enough. He only wanted more. Add in the fact Lucia fisted his leather jacket to drag him closer, and her sweet lips parted so that her tongue could strike out against the seam of his mouth, and he was fucking done.
There was no hesitance in her kiss—just a burning heat that seared him from the inside out as her tongue warred with his, unafraid of the way his equally lashed back to find more of her taste. Soft curves pushed against his hard lines, and for a second, he was pretty sure he forgot where he was.
He was right, though.
She did taste like sweetness and sin.
It was only a whoop from the crowd that finally broke their kiss, but the second it was done, he was ready to drag her back again for a second round.
Lucia’s head tipped up, and a slow smile spread across her features. “There’s an upstairs?”
He looked up, too.
“Guess so.”
“Let’s go see what it looks like from up there.”
Who was he to argue?
“Let’s go, babe,” he murmured.
Lucia tugged him along, and Renzo was all too happy to follow given the view he had of her ass swaying under that dress. He didn’t even realize he’d climbed a set of metal, spiral stairs until Lucia was leaning over a railing with hooded eyes looking his way. In a blink, she’d gone from looking entirely too innocent to something else entirely.
And that was from a kiss.
What might she look like if he stripped her bare?
Christ.
“How long do these go?” she asked.
“Til the sun starts to peak.”
That smile was back.
He wanted her to keep smiling.
“Ren! Hey, man, you working tonight?”
Renzo turned fast to see a familiar face coming his way. The guy was a regular for Renzo—liked just a pinch of something extra in with his hydro when he smoked. He was more of a social user than an addict, and Renzo preferred that kind of customer, really. They were easier to deal with, and they always paid.
“Not tonight, Kirk,” Renzo said.
Kirk’s gaze drifted to a quiet Lucia. “Something else tonight, then?”
“Something like that.”
With a nod, the guy passed him by and headed down the spiral staircase. Lucia stayed quiet until the man was gone altogether, and it was just them side by side leaning over the railing. Up there, he could really feel the heat of the crowd rising in the warehouse. It almost made him want to take off his jacket.
Almost.
“You deal for John, then?” Lucia asked softly.
Too softly, he thought. He barely heard her at all.
“Does it matter what I do to make a living?” he asked back.
Lucia looked his way, but he didn’t find anything that said she was about to bolt on him staring back from her. Maybe that was what surprised him the most. She knew he wasn’t exactly a good guy, but she was still tucked into his side like that was exactly where she wanted to be.
“I’m curious,” Lucia said. “About why, and other things.”
“Because we all need to eat,” he said, “and I never learned anything different.”
“Neither did John or my dad … none of us, really.”
Renzo’s brow dipped. “What?”
Lucia met his gaze again, unashamed and bold. “My brother and father, or my uncles. The rest of my family. This life is what we’ve always known. We were never taught anything different, either. There’s not much difference between them, and you. Not when you really think about it.”
“I can think of one glaring difference,” Renzo murmured.
“The fact they have money?”
“Exactly that.”
Lucia nodded, and leaned in close enough that her lips were just a breath away from his. “And yet, take it all away, Ren, and what does that still make them?”
Criminals.
Bad people.
All that and more flew through his mind.
Lucia answered with something else entirely. “People surviving in the only way they know how—that’s what it makes them.”
He kissed her again.
Just because he wanted to.
• • •
“You can’t do that!”
Renzo chuckled as he shifted the pick in the lock just enough to hear the familiar click of the tumblers falling into place. Just like that, he was able to pop the lock on the gate, and push it open. “But I just did.”
Lucia’s eyes