Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Angel,” Lotto called. When had he gotten so close? He placed a hand on my elbow. “You okay?”
“Fuck that guy.” But my words were shaking as much as my hands. “Who does he think he is, some mafia boss?”
“Close enough.”
“And he didn’t even bring any cannolis.” At Lotto’s confused look, I sighed. “If we’re going to play out The Godfather, he could at least— You know what, never mind. He got his point across. We’re fucked without him.”
“Angel.”
I glared at him. “Am I wrong?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way.”
“Then how would you put it?” I threw up my hands. “We were stuck doing his bidding in the first place, and now we’re stuck doing someone else’s bidding, all because Lucien’s dick is half the size of Troy’s. And if we go with Lucien, we keep River but have Troy threatening us with… I don’t even know what, but I know it’s shit either way. But if we go with Troy, our chances of ever going legit or staying away from him are slim to none. Is there something I’m missing here?”
Lotto stayed silent, which got his answer across painfully clear.
I clenched and unclenched my hands a few times but the need to smack something lingered. I was slipping. All our choices were bullshit. None of them actually helped Smiley’s. People only wanted to use us. For money, fame, ammo—whatever. We were fodder for rich people’s whims.
“I’ve been working so hard to make my dad proud, but at what point do I call it quits, Lotto?” I pounded my fist against the front desk a few times, but fire still raged within me. “Would he even be proud of what’s going on right now? We’re winning, but at what cost? Maybe I should just shut it all—”
“Angel, do not finish that sentence.” His voice was low and full of warning. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do—” I inhaled and closed my eyes. “—n’t. You’re right. I don’t.”
Smiley’s was my baby. My father’s last memory. My family. Despite being jerked around by two dickheads, I wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.
“We’ll tell the others about Troy’s threat when we get to California.”
My eyes widened. Shit. The flight. I checked the time. We would need a miracle to make our originally scheduled plane.
“Damnit, we need to—”
“Change the time.” Lotto’s voice was way too calm for the mess that sat on our plates. “There’s another flight that leaves two hours later.” His eyes flashed when he turned to me. “I don’t think you’re in the right mind to travel right now.”
I slowly let out a breath. My body was still tense, as if at any moment I could unravel at the seams. That Lotto could sense this was both touching and alarming. It was always scary to lose control, and lately I’d been losing way too much of it.
“You’re right. Thanks, Lotto. I think I just need…” I sighed. I didn’t know what I needed.
Lotto shifted closer. “Do you want to take your mind off of things, angel? Say the word.”
Heat raced through my body. I checked outside the front windows. No one was around. We had some time if we changed our flights. Maybe Lotto could help me calm down in our own special way.
“Go lock the front door. Then come back over here and bend over the front desk.”
Lotto’s eyebrows arched in surprise. My own request held a whisper of uncertainty. I’d never really been one to take charge—at least not with Lotto—but something in my hands still trembled. For once in a long time, I wanted to be in control. For a second, I thought he wouldn’t agree, but then he did as commanded, making sure we couldn’t be interrupted before splaying himself out for me.
“Pants off.”
Lotto unbuckled his belt and slid his pants down just enough to expose his supple ass. I licked my lips. I always loved that ass. I couldn’t stop myself from copping a feel.
Lotto smirked. “What next?”
“Change our flights.” I smacked his ass, and the sharp slap rang in the quiet room. “Give us some time to relax.”
Lotto’s eyes darkened when I slapped him again. He’d done this for me a few months ago when I’d had to call the insurance agent about that stupid fucking tree. He’d taken great care of me and calmed me down. Now it was my turn to return the favor.
I smacked Lotto’s ass over and over until his skin bloomed bright red. He stayed in control the entire time, clicking away on his phone as he changed our flights out. I didn’t even know if I was affecting him at all, but when I slapped his ass one more time, a little harder than my previous ones, he let out a breathy groan. I smirked. So, he wanted it rough. I could definitely provide that.