Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“You’re forgiven,” he whispers in my ear. He stands and releases my hair. I feel bereft, a sudden sense of loss when he moves his body away from mine and cool air kisses my cheek. “Be a good girl,” he says with a wink before he turns and walks away.
I blink in surprise. Is he… walking to the bar? Getting me a drink? Securing a private room? My body’s on fire, and surely he didn’t just… punish me, take his things and… go?
I wait five minutes. Ten. With every second that passes, my heart sinks lower.
I shouldn’t be disappointed. I shouldn’t be so let down. I came here to find him, to get whatever information I could on him, to reconnect.
This had nothing to do with seeing him again.
Nope. Nothing.
This had nothing to do with another night of sex.
Zilch.
This was nothing more than a job.
I choke back a sob and half-consider finding a ladies’ room just so I can splash some cold water on my face and slap some sense into myself. I release a shuddering sigh and reach for my phone.
A text.
Behave yourself until we meet again, and next time I see you, Daddy will reward you.
My heart beats faster. He’s got my cell phone number? I’m fucking slipping. I never even saw him touch my phone. It’s a private number under a pseudonym, so there’s no way he’ll find out my true identity. I don’t even want to think about what would happen if a known mobster like Mario discovered I was a police detective.
I sigh, this time for dramatics. Square my shoulders and release a breath.
I walk over to the bar and order a cocktail. I’m here for a reason, and I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.
CHAPTER NINE
Mario
I hate leaving her. I want to stay here with her and make her forget who she is or why she came here. Last night, the time I spent with her was one of the best nights of my life, and believe me, I’ve had some damn good nights before.
But I have a job to do. I want her wondering who I am and where I am. She knows my name by now because she stole my wallet, and I don’t give a fuck if she knows I’m a Rossi. I want this on my terms, not hers.
I couldn’t believe it was so easy to find her, but something tells me it was no accident either. I nearly buff my nails when I leave the club. I’m confident she came looking for me because I gave her a time she couldn’t forget.
I’ll use that to my advantage.
I remember what Romeo said to me.
Here’s your chance at redemption. Seduce the fuck out of her, do it well, and we’ll exonerate you. Hell, might even consider giving you a raise.
My brother has literally given me a command to do what I’m best at. Easy.
I got her cell phone number when she was laying ass-up, tits-down on the spanking bench. I adjust my stiff cock at the memory. Jesus, she was a sight for sore eyes.
I enjoyed the fuck out of punishing her. She deserved it, which is why I didn’t make her come after I whipped her ass. She earned being whipped and turned on and left high and dry.
I might like a good lay and a pretty woman, but I am not gonna let stealing from me go unpunished, and the sooner she learns that the better. I can be a lady’s man and I can be a lover, but I don’t get fucked over. Jesus, I’ve taken fingers off men for less than that.
So the first thing I do in the back of the car on the ride home is look up her cell phone number. I have a contact at the club and have them keep an eye on her. She waited for me, looked around, then went straight to the bar to ask questions.
Ha. Of course she did. So damn predictable it’s amusing. I don’t give a fuck what she finds. I don’t hide who I am. She’s the one that needs to be sussed out.
With a few strokes of the keyboard on the laptop I’ve got in the back of the car, I find the name listed on her cell.
Elaine Snow.
Huh. Sounds weirdly familiar. There’s something about it. I tuck that away and lean back in the car for the rest of the way home. I’m fucking exhausted.
She don’t look like an Elaine and there were no Elaines on the roster of names I came up with after scouring the obits.
I call Santo.
“Yeah, man?”
“Elaine Snow. Ring a bell for you?”
He chuckles softly to himself, and I feel like I’m definitely missing something.
Fuck.
“Elaine Snow. Lorraine Blow. Blaine Row. Light dawning on marble head?”
“Fuck me. Jane Doe?”