Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
She rolled her eyes. “You know I would have done that anyway.”
My cock thickened inside my sweatpants. “Yes. But now, you’ll make it really good.”
I didn’t own a suit because I refused to wear one. Black tie wasn’t my style. A powerful man didn’t need to put on an image to be powerful. I could walk into any room buck naked, and people would recognize my authority. Only pussies wore suits.
All I had was a black blazer, so I wore that over my gray V-neck. I wore dark blue jeans and kept my gun tucked in the back of my waistband. A man like me never left the house without being armed. I also had a blade stuffed into the pocket of my jeans. But instead of using a gun or a knife, I preferred my bare fists—and my boots.
I drove to the restaurant and parked the truck along the curb. It was difficult to keep my eyes on the road when I kept glancing at her sexy legs in that black dress. In just a t-shirt and bare-faced, she looked phenomenal. But when she wore a tight dress and did her makeup like that, she was something else.
I knew she thought I looked good too—because she kept sneaking glances at me.
We entered the restaurant, and I was given a private table in the second room. I’d had a few business meetings here before, so the manager recognized me. Even men who didn’t directly participate in crime were somehow connected to it. They knew exactly who the big players were—and I was the biggest player of all.
Our table had a short vase with a single red rose along with a small white candle. Classical music played overhead, and the sound of moving plates and clinking utensils filled the space. Conversations flowed from the other room, but they were muted by the distance.
I sat across from Cassini at the small table and stared at her, finding her more alluring than any other woman in the world. I paid top dollar for the most beautiful whores to warm my bed, but they didn’t compare to this woman. Not even slightly.
Her green eyes were so hypnotic, especially when they lit up in ecstasy. Two ethereal orbs, they shone with their own light. They were so expressive, showing her fear, anger, and lust. She could tell me so much without even trying. I rarely looked a woman in the eye during sex because she was usually on all fours, but I preferred looking at this woman, enjoying every little reaction she had to me. It was the most erotic part about her, not her endless curves or smooth skin.
Her lips were my next obsession. So plump and full, they were made for kissing—and sucking. When she applied a coat of deep red lipstick, it only enhanced the curves of her mouth. Sometimes I couldn’t decide what I wanted more—to kiss her or feel her suck my dick.
She picked up the menu and scanned the selections.
I didn’t grab my menu because I was far more interested in her than food. Lucian must have spotted her somewhere and turned obsessive the way I had. He must have examined her perfect mouth and had the exact same fantasies I had. But the only way he could have this woman was through a lie.
“Should we get a bottle of wine?” she asked, still looking at the menu.
“I don’t drink wine.”
“Ever?” She raised an eyebrow and peered at me over her menu.
“You know I’m a liquor kind of man.” I preferred all the classics, scotch, gin, and vodka.
“And I like beer and the occasional martini. But wine is the perfect pairing for Italian cuisine.”
This woman was so beautiful that she could ask me for anything, and I would give it to her. She had more power than any person should, and thankfully, she wasn’t aware of it. “Pick whatever you want.”
“So, you’ll share it with me?”
“Yes.”
She looked at the wine list. “They’ve got a good selection of Barsetti wines. That’s my favorite.”
I recognized the name Barsetti, but I’d never tried the wine.
The waiter came to our table, and Cassini picked out the red wine she wanted. “Could we also have the bruschetta as an appetizer?”
She’d be eating that alone.
She ordered her entrée, and then I ordered the grilled chicken. I hardly ate out because the food was prepared with too much oil and other fattening substances. I’d made my choice a long time ago, that I would cut carbs and fats from my life so I could drink as much as I wanted. Most people needed food to survive, but I needed booze.
The waiter walked away then returned with the bottle of wine. He poured two glasses, brought the bruschetta, and then disappeared.
She brought the glass to her lips and left a distinguishable print of her mouth.