Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Careful,” he warns, eyes sliding down my legs to where the front of the robe hangs open. “You’re not wearing panties. You sit like that and you’re liable to get fucked again.”
“Promise?” I spread wider for him and his mouth opens hungrily. “Oh no, you’re giving me that look.”
“Which one?”
“The one that leads to very bad things.”
“Which is entirely your own fault, love.” He takes a step toward me with some very nasty business on his mind, but instead stops when his phone starts to ring. He frowns at the screen, prepared to toss it away, but catches himself and turns it toward me.
“Ricardo’s calling,” he says grimly. “I should answer.”
“Put it on speaker.” I shut my legs and sit up straight, tension tingling down into my extremities.
He sits and accepts the call. “Hello, Ricardo. How are things?”
“Things are great!” Ricardo sounds genuinely happy, which is a surprise. “Actually, I just heard from Marco. There’s another invitation waiting for you, direct from Mr. F himself.”
Prime’s eyebrows shoot up. I feel an odd pulse in my stomach, a smattering of butterflies and terror.
“I’m surprised, considering what happened at our last meeting,” Prime admits.
“You know, these things happen, my friend. To be honest, Frankie was not the most loved person in the world, to put it very mildly. We’re still looking for the perpetrator, but you know how it goes. At any rate, do you want to visit Mr. F at his home tomorrow night?”
That makes Prime’s jaw drop straight down.
Fontana’s home. That’s the Holy Grail. It’s what we’ve been after from the start. And now here it is, being dangled in front of us, and Prime looks pale like he can barely think.
“I’d be happy to meet with him,” Prime manages to say, but all this feels wrong. I tighten my robe, hugging my body, not sure what to think.
“Wonderful! A driver will pick you up tomorrow evening around six. Bring that wife of yours.”
Prime glances at me, his face darkening. “I’m sorry, but Deanna’s not available.”
“Ah, you see, Deanna is explicitly invited.” Ricardo sounds apologetic. “I think Mr. F wants the wives to get together, if you know what I mean. Ha ha, don’t worry! It’ll be great. I’m sure Deanna can reschedule whatever she has going on.”
“I’m not sure—“
“She’s not a request, Prime. It’s you and the wife, or none of you at all.”
Prime’s jaw works. I touch his shoulder and nod but he refuses to look at me. There’s a war inside him, a struggle against himself. I lean forward, mouth to his ear. “I’ll do it,” I whisper, kissing him, nibbling.
His eyes shut. His shoulders lock. Every inch of him is tension.
“We’ll see you then,” Prime grinds out.
“A different driver this time. Sorry about that. But I’ll let them know. Have a good time!”
Ricardo hangs up. Prime throws the phone across the room and stands, cursing as he stalks away. I watch him, chewing my lip.
“Prime—“
“No, not right now.” He holds up a hand, eyes squeezed shut. “I want to have a good evening together. I want you to relax.”
“But Prime—“
“No, Deanna. I’m going to cook for you. I’m going to rub your feet and fuck you until you can’t breathe. We’re going to forget business for a few hours. Tomorrow, we’ll deal with it. But right now?”
He visibly forces himself to relax, shaking his hands, before sitting down beside me.
“Right now, it’s us,” I say, kissing him, touching his cheek.
“It’s us,” he agrees.
CHAPTER 28
PRIME
She looks perfect in black. It’s a simple dress but it fits her body like heaven. A hint of her cleavage, a tasteful amount of her legs, and heels that lift her ass to the sky.
I want to lock her in the fucking closet.
This is all wrong. There’s no way Fontana should invite me and Deanna to his house tonight, not after what happened at the last meeting. I keep thinking this reeks, it all stinks, but maybe Deanna’s talk with Carbone really did convince them that we’re innocent.
She leans against me on the ride to the house. The driver’s some low-level Fontana man. He barely grunts in our direction as we wind out to the suburbs, going much further than I ever imagined.
“What’s he doing all the way out here?” she asks, squinting into the darkness. Bucks County is a relatively large area north of Philadelphia. Parts are affluent, and that’s exactly how I’d describe the house we’re eventually brought to.
“I don’t know,” I admit as we’re let out in front of a grand, beautiful home, all white and black with manicured gardens and huge main doors. There are trees everywhere like we’re hidden in the forest. I would’ve bet anything that Fontana lived in the city, not forty-five minutes away instead.
“It’s nice at least.” Deanna presses close to me as we ascend and ring the bell.