Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“Then I’ll see you tonight at eight.”
He hung up. I got out of bed and followed the sound of the shower into the bathroom. Amelia stood under the running water stream, looking absolutely breathtaking. I tracked the rivulets cascading over her ample tits and the dip of her waist down to the beautiful triangle. The moment she spotted me, she turned off the water and poked her head out. Her hair was plastered to her head, and a few droplets caught on her lush lips and lashes. “What did he want?” The anxiety in her voice told me she had the necessary respect for Remo.
“He wants us to come to Las Vegas tonight so we can have dinner together and I can prepare for my cage fight tomorrow.”
Amelia’s face fell, her mouth falling open. She grabbed a towel, wrapped it around her body, and tiptoed toward me. Small puddles marked the spots where her wet feet had touched the marble, and her wet hair soaked the fabric of the towel, but she didn’t seem to care.
“A cage fight?”
“Most men of power in the Camorra have to do them, and it’s my turn.”
She threw up her arms. “He’s punishing you for saving Luciano!”
“If he intended to punish me, he’d do so. A fight is hardly a punishment for me, only for my opponent.”
She touched my chest. “Is it…is it a death fight?”
“They always are,” I said. I grabbed a smaller towel and carefully wrapped it around her hair.
“How can you not be scared?”
“Because I know I’ll win, especially since you’ll be watching, and I want to return to you.”
She closed her eyes and put her forehead against my chest. “I don’t like this. I don’t want to watch you get hurt. I saw too much of it already.”
“This is different,” I murmured. “We need to get dressed and pack. In order to make it to dinner with Remo and Nino, we have to grab a flight in two hours.”
“What about Luciano and Flavia? We can’t leave them alone.”
“They’ll be fine. Niccolo and our staff will take care of them and help them settle into their new home. We’ll be back in two days. They’ll survive.”
I worried about how Amelia would handle seeing me in a death fight. She had always suffered so much when I’d returned after torture, but she had to watch. Remo wanted it, and I couldn’t deny Remo.
My pulse quickened when we left our private jet in Las Vegas. From the airport, I had a good look at the glittering skyline of the city. I had never been to Las Vegas before, and knowing who ruled here, I wasn’t really all that fond of staying.
Nestore touched my lower back as he led me down the staircase and toward the waiting black Hummer limousine. The inside of the massive car was lined in lilac velvet and pink leather. Glasses with champagne waited on a small table.
I shook my head with a huff, but grabbed a glass the moment I sat down. I needed to calm my nerves, and maybe this champagne would help. Nestore regarded me curiously as I sipped at my drink. “Won’t you have a taste? It calms my nerves.”
“The only taste that calms me is yours. I don’t drink when I’m around Remo or Nino.”
I nodded. I got it. It was probably better if he kept his wits about him. “Are you sure Remo didn’t lure you to Las Vegas to punish you?”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “But let me calm my nerves just in case. Lie back.”
I emptied my champagne and then stretched out on the long leather bench of the car. The privacy glass between the back and the front was up so that the driver couldn’t see us, but I was still nervous when Nestore pulled my panties aside and began to eat me out.
I came with a suppressed scream in Nestore’s mouth just a moment before the car stopped. Nestore wiped his mouth and put my panties back in place, then draped my long dress over my legs. He straightened and leaned back, looking as if he hadn’t just given me intense pleasure with his mouth and tongue. I quickly sat up and righted my hair, then downed the second champagne.
The door opened in front of a splendid hotel entrance. Nestore got out first and held out his hand. I took it and let him help me out of the high car. All eyes zoomed in on Nestore. How could they not? Even in Las Vegas, he stood out with his regal face, long black fur coat, and combat boots. At least he was wearing a shirt. Otherwise, people would probably pass out.
“Everyone admires your beauty,” he murmured.
I shook my head with a laugh. “They’re staring at you, not me.”
“Then they focus on the wrong thing.” He scanned me from head to toe, lingering on my short, wide skirt, then moving down to the white suede boots.