Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Both arms went around me—one hand lightly closing around my throat, the other gently grabbing one of my breasts, a possessive kind of hold that had desire pooling once again.
“That was worth the wait,” he said, his breath on the shell of my ear making me shiver. “Though, next time, we need to be somewhere private. I want to hear you cry out while my cock is inside of you.”
There were a lot of things I could have clung to there.
But what came out of me was, “There’s going to be a next time?”
There was a neediness in my voice that I didn’t like. Santo, though, was nothing but sweet. His lips pressed a soft kiss to my temple. “Not if you don’t want there to be,” he said. “But for the record, I want a repeat. I want a fucking thousand repeats.”
I leaned back into him, turning my face in toward his neck, breathing in his cocoa coffee scent.
“I think I can get on board with that.”
“Yeah? How about tonight?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Don’t even need to think about it?”
“No.”
“No other plans?”
“Nothing I want more than that.”
That little rumble moved through him, vibrated into me.
“It’s settled then,” he said, pressing his forehead to my head for a moment.
It was then there was some shouting from inside, making us break apart.
I busied myself with tucking my boobs away then finding my panties while Santo dealt with the condom and got himself all tucked away.
“I should probably let you get back to work.”
I couldn’t think of anything I wanted less than that.
“Okay,” I agreed, giving him a small smile.
“But… tonight.”
“Tonight,” I agreed as he went for the door.
“Santo! Wait,” I called, a laugh getting caught in my throat.
“What’s up?”
“We still didn’t exchange numbers,” I reminded him.
“Christ,” he said, shaking his head at himself as he turned back, reaching for his phone, unlocking it, and handing it to me.
I did the same, and we both programmed our numbers before handing the others’ phone back.
“What time are you usually done around here?”
“Seven-ish,” I told him.
“Seven?” he asked, brows pinching.
“I like to get a little cleaning up around here done when no one is around,” I told him. “But I can cut out earl—“
“No. It’s okay. Gives me a chance to get something good cooking,” he said.
“You’re going to cook for me?” I asked, my heart squeezing.
“Yep. Dessert and all. I’ll text you my address. Just drive over whenever you’re done here.”
With that, and a sexy little smile, he was gone.
Alone, I sank down on my office chair, sore in all the best places.
And excited for something for the first time in ages.
I just had to survive the rest of my workday.
A feat, as it would turn out, easier said than done.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dasha
I honestly wanted to scrap all my plans to spruce up the lobby.
But I’d already told Santo seven.
And I would be losing money on the industrial floor buffer I’d rented and had dropped off.
Given that money was not exactly flowing in, unless I wanted to become a drug dealer to pay for things, I had to keep making smart financial decisions.
So after all the guys clocked out and closed the bay doors, I made my way into the waiting room with the giant, clunky buffer while watching a video online on how to operate it.
Twenty minutes later, I was having a surprisingly good time swinging the buffer around and listening to some upbeat pop music in my headphones.
Watching something dirty get cleaned never failed to put me in a good, relaxed mood. And seeing decades of grime disappearing off the floors in the lobby was creating all sorts of feel-good vibes in me.
Yeah, the solid orgasms earlier weren’t hurting that good mood, either. Or the promise of a yummy home-cooked meal and more orgasms.
I’d never had a man cook for me before. Hell, I’d never had a man choose the restaurant for a date before. It was always ‘I dunno, what are you in the mood for?’
For you to take some initiative, that was what I was in the mood for.
Now? I had that.
I mean, fine, sure. Maybe I should have been more concerned over the fact that Santo was in the mafia. It wasn’t like I was just speculating that either; he’d admitted it.
But who the hell was I to judge?
I’d inherited a freaking drug empire.
Finished with the lobby, I decided to take the buffer into the bathroom.
I’d been attacking it with bleach and bleach wipes daily. Since, well, it was the only bathroom in the place. And guys could be pretty gross.
But I was excited to see the tile brought back to life.
By the time I was finished, the floor was almost sparkling, and my arms felt like jelly. Like vibrating jelly.
I brought the buffer back into the garage, setting it by one of the bays so it would be easily pushed outside for pick-up the next day, then I went back into my office, wanting to take a few minutes to freshen up my makeup before heading over to Santo’s place.