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)
I like options. And casual sex is way, way underestimated.
I check the rearview mirror purely on instinct and see no one following us. I had a good night tonight, and it ain’t gonna end now.
“Where were you coming from, dressed like that?”
She gives me a smile that should unnerve me, but only excites me. “I just came from a funeral.”
I feel my eyebrows rise. “Did you? You wear a dress like that to a funeral, you’re celebrating that person’s death.”
A flare of surprise registers in her eyes before I look back to the road. Bingo.
“You’re a smart man.”
I ignore the compliment and try to piece a bit more together. “The closest cemetery’s two miles away. You walk?”
“Walked a while, yeah.”
I don’t respond at first, and for half a minute wonder if I’ve made a mistake picking her up. Is this girl gonna be trouble? I decide to probe a bit more.
“So what’s a girl like you doing alone at the top of a cliff?” I decide to push a little. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were getting ready to jump.”
She doesn’t laugh.
Shit.
I look at her sharply. The sun sets behind her, her long blonde hair whipping around her face in the wind. She wears a bright red dress that’s wrapped and tied to her, accentuating every curve and valley. Full breasts, a trim figure, and legs for goddamn days. Her red lips pull together in a pout.
Any woman that wears a bold red dress to a funeral is making a silent statement she’s likely ready to back up. I’m here for it.
No, she doesn’t look like someone about to make a drastic life decision with disastrous results. She looks… bold. Defiant. As if the universe has told her what to wear and how to behave up to now and she’s given it a final middle finger fuck you.
“I thought you were gonna make up for your tardiness, sir?”
Fuck it, I love the way she flirts with me. Something tells me she’s sharp and witty, and I love to watch the way her eyes take in every detail in here.
I love driving in a sweet ride with a sexy woman beside me, but I’m looking forward to sitting close to her so I can fully look into her eyes when we talk.
When we fuck.
And we will.
“How so?”
She sighs and moves a little closer. I let my fingers graze the sweet, supple skin of her inner thigh, a third date move but hell, we know we’re hooking up. It’s why we’re here. She moves closer to me, and my dick jerks. Fuck it, I’m gonna have her tonight, and I will make it so worth her while.
“By not asking me any more questions.”
“Any more questions?”
“None. Not a one.”
I won a race tonight, and even though I didn’t need that money, thirty grand in cash is in the back of this car burning a hole through my proverbial pocket. It pays racing heavy hitters and power players.
Almost met up with Dario and Sergio in town, but Romeo, my oldest brother and our Don, called them back to my family’s home, The Castle, on business. Didn’t call me, but he likes to give me time to get over my jet lag before I go back to work.
Doesn’t stop me from racing. Fuck, I love to race, and I missed it when I was in Italy.
So I ended up alone on the town, since all my brothers have decided to get married and have wives and kids and shit. My brothers and I don’t have a lot of friends outside the brotherhood, for good reason. Someone learns about something they shouldn’t, you have to knock them off, and that ain’t fun.
“No more questions,” I repeat, mulling it over, but what I’m really doing is going through the possibilities of why she’s ready for a hookup. She doesn’t look easy, though there’s an eagerness about her that tells me she wants this. I’d bet she’s never so much as had casual sex in her life. Even the way she flirts is hesitant, almost guarded.
The funeral, then…
I know what it’s like to bury someone. I know what it’s like to see someone’s life end and know with certainty that yours will, too, and you don’t know how or when. It gives you a sort of… permission. To not let anyone or anything hold you back.
Not that I ever have.
Well… I’ve had my moments. My father always tried to rain on my parade, because he never really liked me, so he gave me shit from time to time. Lectured the fuck out of me about responsibilities and settling down and loyalty to the family. I learned to deal with it. To tune him out. When my brother Romeo took the throne as Don, he picked up where our father left off for a while, but soon changed. He saw that my aversion to commitment and following the status quo had jack shit to do with my ability to complete a task.