Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
He chuckles slowly. “Your big brother should be able to tell you all about that.”
With that, he turns, whistling as he walks away.
CHAPTER 7
DAMIAN
This is wrong. Was wrong the first two times I did it too. Doesn’t make this any better though.
I’m in the shower, water gliding down my taut body, my muscles aching like they’re fixing to explode out of my skin. The memory of the kiss hasn’t left me since it happened. The soft warmth of her lips. The press of her curvy body. The moaning hunger as she pressed against me.
My hand glides down to my manhood, gripping my base. Already solid, aching with desire for my best friend’s sister, my tip leaking precome, and my head swimming with visions I can’t control.
She’s bent over in the entranceway where we kissed, looking at me over her shoulder. Her thick ass is naked. Her creamy flesh marked red from where I’ve spanked and owned her. Biting her lip as she waits for me to drive my cock into her oh-so patient slit.
I should stop. I need to stop.
“Argh,” I groan, as my hand moves faster, sizzling flames shimmering up my rock-solid cock.
I close my eyes tighter, as if the more stubbornly I sink into the fantasy, the longer I can ignore reality. Ignore how fucked-up this is.
I imagine the feel of her warm wetness as I push inside of her, imagine the crush of her ass against my stomach. I hear her moans, savor them.
“We can’t do this…”
I know we can’t. But right now, I don’t give a fuck.
I lean against the shower, moving my arm so fast my forearm is getting sore. It’s like I can feel her tight, hot pussy gripping me harder.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I erupt all over the shower wall, thick ropes of come making my tip hum and ache.
When it’s over, just like the other times, I quickly shower myself off and promise that was the last time. I’ve made the same promise twice before.
And broken it both times. I rarely break promises, especially to myself.
If I tell myself I’ll work out, or read a book, or shatter a man’s teeth, I do it.
But when I tell myself, I won’t think about Celine and her perfect body, I fail. Every damn time.
Maybe the fourth time’s the charm.
After the shower, I check my cell. What the hell?
Nine missed calls from Julian. I sit on the edge of my bed and call him back.
“Has anyone seen you?” he snaps.
“What? Slow down. Explain.”
“Are you home?”
I laugh without humor. “Where else would I be?”
“That’s my goddamn point. I’m coming by. Unlock the back door.”
“Don’t let anyone follow you.”
Now, it’s his turn to laugh. “If there was a one percent chance of that happening, I wouldn’t come by. You know that.”
Something climbed up his ass and died, clearly. He hangs up before I can ask what happened. I head downstairs and crack the back door. Check the front. No cars, no tails, nothing unusual.
He arrives ten minutes later, ignoring my offer of a coffee and pacing up and down the kitchen.
“You need to be honest with me,” he snaps, staring into my eyes. For a brief moment, I see him as a boy, before he became neat and nondescript. Long wild hair, rosy cheeks, big grin stuck to his face before life wiped it away.
I spread my hands, waiting.
“Did anyone see you?”
“Not by anyone still alive,” I tell him.
He doesn’t stop pacing. “Rico visited Celine at work.”
I bite down. Hard. Teeth feeling like they could shatter. It’s difficult not to let it show. I need to pretend my reaction is based on something other than protective fire.
“Oh,” I say.
He stops pacing, tilts his head. “Oh? This is a goddamn problem.”
“What did that little rat say?”
Rico is a low-level fixer. Not an enforcer, not an earner, a bastard who never graduated from running errands and takes out his resentment on anyone who gets in his way.
Julian hesitates. A flicker of… something. If he were anyone else, that would make me suspicious, but this is Julian, the man who saved my life. “A bunch of vague and threatening shit. But the headline is, Celine now knows I work for organized crime. I think she’s known for years, honestly. It’s been like this big thing hovering between us all the damn time, no matter what we’re doing. It’s always there.”
“He threatened Celine?” I snarl, trembling, hands curling into fists, ready to wreak havoc.
Julian looks at me oddly. Fuck.
“He’s got no right to bring a civilian into this,” I snap. “I thought even a lowlife like Rico would understand that.”
“He didn’t come right out and threaten her, didn’t need to. Him just being there was enough.”
“How is she?” I ask, trying to make it sound casual. It’s anything but.
“Shaken up,” he says. “We had an argument… She demanded to know what was going on. I couldn’t tell her for obvious reasons. How can I?”