Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Are you done?”
I wave a dismissive hand in the air. “Just saying you should share your gifts with the world.”
“You may go now.”
“Goodbye, sister, you’ve been ever so helpful.”
She doesn’t bother answering, just returns to her work.
I head upstairs, my head filled with tongue sculptures, and pause in the kitchen. I grab a beer from the refrigerator and drink it slowly while thinking about Claudia, wondering if Tommy watched our little movie yet, if she’s safe, if everything’s okay. I could call since I used Famiglia resources to look up her number, but I’m trying to take things slow.
The girl orgasmed in my lap. I watched her come as she ground herself down against my cock, and it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed. I’d happily go to prison for another five years just to watch her do that all over again—but hopefully, I won’t have to do something so drastic.
Her taste lingers on my lips. Her moans fill my head. They’re all I can think about, which is a problem. I’m obsessing over this girl I barely know, a girl that’s supposed to be a means to an end, except she’s more than that now.
She’s a need. She’s a hunger.
I thought I had conquered this shit back in prison. The first few months were hard. No women, no access to anything but my memory and my fucking hand, and I had to learn to live without sex and without relationships. I dealt with it, figured out how to cope, but now that I’m back on the outside I’m suddenly deeply in lust with the first beautiful girl I came across.
It’s a fucking problem.
But I don’t know how to make it go away.
I toss the beer away and head outside. As I walk down Laura’s stoop and turn toward my house, my burner phone vibrates.
It’s Seamus Quinn. He texted me an address along with one simple message: Found Vito. Working on the others.
I text back an acknowledgment and look up at the sky. It’s a beautiful day in Chicago, and now I know where one of my former crew mates lives, and soon another traitorous fuck is going to die.
But first, I have to do something about that girl.
Chapter 12
Claudia
Back in the cage. I swear, Tommy puts me in here because he knows I hate it. I keep asking Rodrigo to let me do table and drink service but they keep throwing me in here and telling me to shake it for the club kids.
That’s how they see me. I’m basically a fancy lamp.
Getting ogled by the guests is one thing. I’m used to the stares and the glances. But what’s worse is I have so much time to think while I’m in here, and I can’t help but linger on everything that’s happening.
Like freaking Angelo. I keep running through that meeting in room 33 over and over. The absurdity of all those fucking machines turned up to the high setting. His hands on my body, his mouth at my neck. The way he used intimacy to mask what we were really doing.
Planning a coup. Making a deal.
Except it wasn’t all fake. There was the kiss, there was his lap, there was the orgasm breaking me to pieces. I still feel shattered. I’ve never come like that before, and definitely not from just dry-humping a guy in bed.
It wrecked me. That orgasm totally broke my brain. And now I feel like I’m dick crazy, because I keep on thinking about Angelo and wondering when I’ll get to see him again.
It’s pathetic. It’s pretty sad. I need to focus on my priorities and stop being such a moron with a crush.
Because no matter what else happens, this is about saving my sister’s life.
I see him then. He shows up ten minutes into my shift. He’s right at the bar, not even trying to hide, drinking a beer and watching me. When I meet his gaze, he only lifts his eyebrows, but he doesn’t turn away.
It kills me, that stare. I want him to come over here and talk to me, but he doesn’t. I’m stuck in this damn cage dancing away in a provocative outfit while he gets to lounge at the bar in his tight suit and his perfect stupid face and his amazing haircut. It’s so frustrating I could scream.
But it’s also obscene. It’s hot in a way I can’t describe. After a little while, I start to feel like I’m dancing only for him. The crowd fades away, the other faces staring at me dim and drop from view, and there’s only Angelo’s attention like a spotlight. Every time I sway my hips, I think about grinding into him. Every time I shake my tits, I think about his mouth on my neck.
It’s a show, a performance, for a man I barely know. A man that’s using me.