Five Mafia Captors’ Virgin Read online Nicole Casey (Love by Numbers #4)

Categories Genre: Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Love by Numbers Series by Nicole Casey
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Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
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She looked puzzled when I turned back to her. Though her top was baggy, I could still see how toned her thighs were through her yoga pants. They would be exquisite wrapped around my waist as I sank into her. I imagined her fury dissipating into delirious pleasure as I filled her to the brim with my cock. Sadie would be so full, throwing her head back into the pillow as she screamed in ecstasy. Then I would withdraw my cock before pumping back into her over and over and over again. At some point, I would flip her over, yanking her hips to mine, and slam back inside, penetrating that delicious pussy yet again.

The image of fucking Sadie made me smile, though my smile clearly confused her, made her eyes narrow.

“Look, Mr. Marcello,” she said, softening her tone, “if you just take me back home, I’ll never tell anyone what happened. Okay? I’m a woman of my word. I’ll never tell, not anyone.”

“Ms. Hartville,” I said, walking closer to her, “when I set out to do something, I follow through with it. By nature, I’m a cautious man, so I don’t make any decision lightly.”

I didn’t stop walking until I was right in front of her and lightly stroked the side of her cheek. In a quiet voice, I asked, “Sadie, do you know who I am?”

Again, she stepped back. “I really don’t care who you are. You’re a creep and you abducted me. The cops are going to come for you.”

“Look, Sadie, Las Vegas, may not be my city. But in my city? I own it. And I own half the police force too. No one will help you there. No lawyer will challenge me because even the mayor is in my pocket. If I want it to be, Las Vegas will be mine too.”

For the first time, Sadie looked frightened, her eyes wide. “What, are you in the mob or something?”

Grinning, I said, “Oh, sweetheart, I am the mob.”

Kane

It was late when I got the call. I was already in my sweatpants, kicked back with a beer and Netflix.

When my phone began to ring, I snatched it from the coffee table and saw that Asher was calling me.

I hit the talk button and said, “Hey, man, what’s up?”

“Hey, Kane,” he replied. He sounded tired, more tired than I’d heard him in a long time. I could just imagine the purpling bags under his eyes. “I know it’s late, but the boss needs you to come in.”

I squeezed my eyes shut to keep myself from sighing. Look, I respected Dante and was proud to work for him, but I just wanted to finish my movie and go to bed. If I was getting called in this late, then it looked like I had a long night ahead of me.

“Okay,” I said, downing the rest of my beer and standing up. “Let me get dressed and I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Kane.” He sounded grateful. Damn, whatever was up must have had him rattled.

“Hey, before you hang up.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you know why Dante needs me in?” I asked.

There was a pause. “How about I tell you in person,” Asher said finally.

“Gotcha,” I replied, walking into my bedroom.

If Asher didn’t want to say what it was over the phone, that probably meant it was illegal. In our line of work, we could never be too careful.

“Okay, man, I’ll see you in a few.”

“Alright,” he said and hung up. Asher was never one to waste words.

I quickly stripped out of my sweats and pulled a pair of dark jeans out of my drawer. The black T-shirt I had on would be fine since Asher hadn’t told me to put anything nice on.

I grabbed my shoulder holster from where I’d tossed it on my bed earlier and put it on. The gun was still inside the holster. I carried it every single time I left the house. Back home in Chicago, I carried it almost 24/7. Just in case.

Though it was still warm in Las Vegas at night, I put on a jacket that was thick enough to conceal the fact that I was carrying a gun. Dante Marcello’s bodyguard or not, I was still a black man. Sure, the law in Chicago knew who I was, but I wasn’t in Chicago. Cops in Vegas didn’t know who I was and might shoot first and ask questions later if they knew I was strapped.

After picking up my wallet, cell phone, and keys, I was out the door.

It always baffled me just how busy Las Vegas was at night. It wasn’t exactly a ghost town during the day, but it was never like this, tourists running around everywhere and Ubers zipping down the street. Sure, Chicago had a nightlife, but it was probably busier during the day in most parts of the city.



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