Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Maximus narrowed his eyes as he propped his tattooed forearms up on his thighs. “I hope you’re not thinking about me.”
“She knows you’re my best friend and would know it’s a trap.”
“Good,” he said and filled our glasses again. “I don’t think she’ll be stupid enough to let any guy fuck her, not so close to her ultimate goal.”
He was probably right. I’d ignored Cressida in the last few years, hoping she’d grow tired and find someone else. But even as I fucked one girl, or more than one at once, after the other and never bothered to be discreet about it, she just accepted it, because it wasn’t me as a person that she wanted. She wanted a Capo.
“Are you sure it’s about Greta? And not you having cold feet because you have to marry Cressida?”
I smiled bitterly. I’d made my fucking peace with marrying Cressida before I’d met Greta. My life wouldn’t have changed because of marriage. I’d still have fucked around, worked all day and done whatever the fuck I wanted. The only thing that would have changed was that I would have started fucking Cressida again as well.
Maximus’ eyes were drawn to something behind us. I turned to see three girls heading our way. One of them was carrying a bowl with lime wedges, the other a salt shaker. With flirty grins, they presented them to us and set them down on the table.
Maximus stifled a smile at the look on my face.
“We saw you were missing something,” the blond girl said.
“Something to ruin a $500 bottle of Tequila with?” I asked, leaning back with narrowed eyes.
The girls exchanged uncertain looks. Maximus waved a waiter over and ordered a bottle of standard Tequila. He draped his arm over the backrest, spreading his legs. Two girls perched on his thighs as if on cue. The third hovered beside me. What if Maximus was right?
I patted my leg and she sank down with a bright smile. Then she grabbed a wedge and salt. I knew what was coming because Maximus was already busy licking salt and lime off the nipples of the two other girls. My life was good. Fucking great, even with Cressida in the picture, so why the fuck was I complicating things with someone like Greta?
The blond girl tugged down the top of her dress and dripped lime juice on her tit. Her nipple hardened and she grinned cheekily when she scattered salt on it.
In the crowd, I saw one of the photographers who always caught me in the worst moments. “Get up,” I ordered the girl on my lap. She blinked but obeyed immediately.
I reached for the expensive Tequila then hooked my fingers in the top of the girl’s dress and tugged hard, ripping it all the way until it tumbled to the floor. The girl let out a little cry. Before she could react, I spilled Tequila down the girl’s front. Her eyes grew wide as the liquid spilled down her tits, belly and drenched her thong.
The Sphere was famous for its scandals. Not all of them were caused by me.
Grabbing her ass, I pulled her toward me and licked the liquid off her thigh, belly and tits. Everyone’s attention was on us. She gripped my head, obviously soaking it up like a sponge. “More.”
I ripped away her thong and let the tequila run between her legs. I sucked some salt of her nipple, licked over a lime and then sucked the Tequila off her pussy. I prayed that Greta wouldn’t see any of this, but she hadn’t even been aware of my upcoming marriage so chances were she never paid attention to New York gossip.
This would make headline. If Cressida had an ounce of self-respect, she’d call things off.
I took two Advil. I’d had too much Tequila last night and when my alarm had rung this morning, after only four hours of sleep, I’d regretted last night thoroughly. Dragging myself out of my bedroom, I sank down at the kitchen island and blankly stared at the Manhattan skyline. I took out my phone and regarded it for a long time. What I was going to do was risky and stupid…
Three hours later, I was still at the kitchen island, drinking my third cup of coffee. The elevator beeped and the doors slid open. Only very few people had the code to my apartment. Matteo and Gianna who lived in the penthouse above me, my parents and sister. I’d moved into the place two years ago. Before that it had been vacant since Maximus and his family had moved out to live in a house outside of the city center.
Heavy steps sounded and a newspaper landed on the table in front of me.
“That’s what your mother saw when she read the newspaper during breakfast this morning.”