Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
We enjoyed ourselves.
Understatement of the year. God, I can still feel myself in her, her arms wrapped around me when I made her come. I can still hear the way she moaned and screamed. I can still taste her on my tongue, so sweet and seductive I crave more.
Those blue, blue eyes of hers and hair so blonde she looked like an angel. Her body was fit and trim, but curvy and soft in all the right places.
“Jesus.” My voice sounds rough and grating when I yank on the shower. God knows I explored every goddamn last one of those curves.
When the water’s good and hot, I step inside face-first, the blast of steam waking me up. I grab the hotel shampoo and lather up.
Right now, my whole family’s at The Castle. I shouldn’t have gone dark and I know this, but I further know that in the event of an emergency, they could find me if they really wanted to. I left a wide-open trail. Late spring drag race, which I won, car parked in the valet lot outside, my brothers with contacts in every hotel from here to the coast and to the state borders on every side of Boston. It’s not like I’m unfindable.
And it’s the quietest it’s been on the home front in fucking forever.
Still. I’m supposed to be at Romeo’s beck and call, and I goddamn know it.
Shit’s good now at The Castle, though. Honestly, it’s the quietest it’s been since my father died. No rival mafia on our tails, no one with an ax to grind ready to ambush us. No one’s been arrested. It’s been smooth sailing for once.
I rinse off the suds and turn around, grab a bar of soap and lather my body. When I reach between my legs, I grab my stiff cock.
Soft breasts and softer moans and pants, a pussy that tastes like sunshine and magic, the way her mouth parts when she comes…
I stroke my hard cock and close my eyes. I shut down any thoughts of The Family or responsibilities and give myself a few goddamn minutes to whack one off in the shower before the day begins.
Her mouth on my cock, her eyes wide and surprised, the way I fill her mouth when I come—I lean against the shower and give myself over to the fantasy until I’m sated and panting.
I clean off, and yank the shower off.
Fuck it.
Jacking off’s nothing compared to fresh, hot, live pussy. Pales in comparison. I’m half pissed at myself for giving in to something so sub-fucking-par.
I towel off and think about her again. Think it over.
Normally, I’d tell myself I wouldn’t see her again, but this time… nah. I’m not letting this one go.
I make a promise to myself. I’ll find her. I’ll hunt her down if I have to. Last night was only a taste of good things to come, I know it.
Bolstered, relieved, and now starving, I finish toweling off, dress, and look at the room service menu. Nah, takes too long. I drop it back down and decide to hit Starbucks in the lobby on the way out, grab a coffee and a breakfast sandwich, then go home to face the music. I’ll leave my phone off until then.
I shrug on my coat and pat the pocket.
I pause.
Now wait one goddamn minute—I rifle through both pockets, and the pockets of my jeans.
No.
I always leave my wallet in my pocket. I don’t put it anywhere else, because I don’t trust myself not to give it away or put it on a room service tray or something when I’m drunk or high. So I make a routine of it, tuck it in my pocket, any pocket that’s nearby and close, before I go to bed.
But it’s gone.
That little—she stole my wallet.
Now Romeo actually will kill me. Literally end it all.
Would’ve probably gotten away with a lecture if I’d only gone dark, and maybe only a right hook from Orlando if I’d gone dark and hooked up anonymously. But going dark, hooking up, letting the girl remain anonymous and not only just escape but leave with my wallet means my brother’s gonna beat the shit out of me before he kills me dead. Dead.
With a groan, I slide open the table where I put my phone. There’s no way…
She did.
Phone and wallet, gonzo.
“Motherfuckin’ son of a whore,” I mutter to myself. “Motherfucker.” I vow to find the pretty little thief. I vow to punish her severely for pulling this bullshit on me. I vow that the next time I fuck her, she’ll be sporting a red ass and tear-filled eyes and will learn the meaning of the word repentance.
The very image makes me hard again.
I took my belt to her for fun last night, but dammit if harder and longer punishment isn’t exactly what she needs for this. I’ll punish her hard for this bullshit.