Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
She pulls me on top of her and wriggles out of her pants. She grabs my pants and yanks them down, desperately kissing me, moaning, pulling at them, begging for me to fuck her. It’s fast and filthy, and I fill her to the brim with one hard thrust, filling her up and holding her there as she shivers in my arms.
“God, yes,” she moans and bites my shoulder. Her fingers dig into my back. “I need this.”
“I need you,” I tell her, stroking in and out. She’s so fucking wet and warm; it’s incredible. “I need every inch of you. I need my wife. I need her moaning, gasping, begging. I need her pregnant.”
Her mouth drops open as I fuck her. We grind into each other. There are no worries, no fear, nothing at all past wanting to climax together. I fill her over and over, and she rolls her hips, encouraging me, wanting more and more as our pace increases, and I glide harder between her legs.
“That’s right, baby, this is all I need.” I fuck her faster, kissing her, my hands on her hips. “I want to feel it, baby. I want to feel you come.”
“Alexan,” she gasps, arching her back, and I bite down on her pierced nipple.
That does it. She moans, eyes rolling back, and I keep fucking her as she comes. It’s heaven, and I can’t take much more before I’m exploding deep between her legs. The orgasm is intense and perfect, and we end up lying together in tangled, sweaty sheets. I hold her tight, our bodies close, our breathing synced, and I marvel at how this feels.
“Can I tell you something?” I run my fingers slowly down her bare spine, trying to memorize every bump and curve.
“Sure.” She’s practically purring in my arms.
“This, right here, is my favorite thing in the world.”
“What? Fucking me?” She smiles a little. “Better be.”
“Fucking you and everything that comes after.” I kiss her gently. “It’s funny. I was dreading this marriage. And now I can’t imagine ever living without you.”
“Even though I’m so much trouble?”
“I’m able to overlook it for now.”
She grins and leans into me. “Good. Me too.”
We stay like that, and I feel better than I ever have in my life, even as the world crumbles down and two different vicious groups are poised to murder us at any moment. Life doesn’t get better than this.
Chapter 34
Alexan
This is the last time I let Daron pick the meeting place.
“Why are you giving me that look?” he asks as he piles an enormous helping of chicken wings onto his plate. In the background, a bored-looking girl grinds up against a pole.
“A fucking strip club?”
He shrugs, frowns at the wings, adds a few more, and stalks off to the corner booth where William and Eric are waiting.
“It’s loud,” he explains, shoving his way into his seat. I pull up a chair and take the very end. “If anyone’s listening, they won’t be able to hear very well. Besides, it’s owned by the McGraths.”
“That doesn’t make it better,” I say, scowling at him. “If anything, going to a strip club owned by my wife’s family makes it decidedly worse.”
Eric’s busy staring at the topless girl on the stage. “Beats the bar at least,” he says with a shrug. “Although I’m not excited by the mid-afternoon talent.”
“Focus,” I say and wave a hand at Daron. “No more strip clubs.”
He shrugs a little, chowing down. “I’m serious though. This place is perfect. The lighting is low, lots of open sightlines so nobody can sneak up, and the music makes it impossible to eavesdrop.”
“He’s got a point,” William concedes and tosses a sugar packet at Eric. “Although I don’t share our young friend’s enthusiasm.”
“What? I’m a monster for liking an attractive girl’s tits?”
“Focus,” I snarl again. “For fuck’s sake, we’re supposed to be professionals.”
“What’s the point of being criminals if we act like fucking investment bankers?” Daron waves a chicken wing in the air. “This, right here, is why we do crime.”
“I definitely don’t do crime for the bad afternoon strip club visits,” William says, rubbing his face.
“Alright, enough.” I gesture at Eric. “Give me what you have.”
He clears his throat and stops watching the girl. “We’ve actually been pretty productive. Turns out, Los Sombras has been pissing off more than a few people all over Baltimore lately, which means lots of guys wanted to talk.”
“We made contact with some former associates of theirs,” William confirms. “They were helpful.”
Eric takes a file folder from his bag and slides it to me. I flip it open, and inside is a dossier with a photo of a man at the top. He’s wearing sunglasses, has a thick black beard, and very dark hair.
“Diego Navarro, also known as El Espectro, is running operations on the East Coast. He’s mainly working out of Baltimore right now, but he’s got bases in New York, Philly, and Boston. Not much is known about his background except that he’s a skilled assassin.”