Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
What could he say to that? “Yeah, okay.”
She pulled away, but barely. “Now, you’re going to get out, grab that bottle of champagne you tried to hide in the back of the car, and we’re going to go inside so you can show me this place. We’ll make a mess opening the bottle, and then you’re taking me into the shower with you so you can make sure every part of me is clean before you take me to bed. Do you understand me?”
Nico tried to shake his head.
“I’m not asking you to have sex with me. I think I figured it out. Why you pull back every time I try to push. You’re not just waiting for me to be ready, are you? You’re not ready, either.”
“Yeah,” he repeated shakily.
“Get out of the car, Nico,” she demanded.
One more, he chose to just do what he was told.
The bottle of champagne hardly made it past the threshold of the door before Nico managed to get the top off. Barely thirty minutes later, he could still feel the shower head pulsating water against his lower back while Frankie’s moans melted into the pattering sound of droplets beating down and she got herself off on him.
The way she trembled and locked eyes on him in a bed he hadn’t paid a cent for as he found just the right way she liked for him to thumb her clit and finger fuck her into orgasm was exactly how she’d shuddered against his naked thigh while jerking him off.
“Come on, come on,” he panted into her quivering kiss, her tongue swallowing his next words down. “Tell me that’s the spot right there; that’s my girl.”
“Oh, my God, Nico,” she mumbled, folding into him all at once. Her softest, warmest, wettest spot pulsated harder around him as her head fell back into the pillow. He got to watch the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen all over again. Her legs quaked, squeezing around his shaking arm. “Oh, my God.”
No, sex he couldn’t do.
Not yet. But this...
He’d do this anytime she asked.
Nico pressed a kiss to her grinning lips, feeling her catching breaths before those kisses moved down. His mouth made the same beeline the rest of his body did, a desperation like he’d never known crawling up his spine.
The same way she’d leaned back and opened for him in the shower, unsure but so full of trusting anticipation, she widened for him now.
His lips and tongue found the spot where her inner thigh met her center. Then, alongside the soft ridge of her outer labia.
Her breath caught louder, harder. “I think you’re almost too good at this.”
He open-mouthed kissed her pussy, his tongue flattening along her folds to suck her in. Tart pleasure found him, so distinctly her.
“A benefit,” he said as he grazed her clit, “finally.”
He looked up to find her watching him. Her fingers pressed against her parted lips.
“You are something else.”
Nico opened his mouth to respond, but a banging downstairs stopped him. She didn’t hear it the first time, shooting him a hurt look when he immediately pulled away and got off the bed. The second knock, her head snapped toward the opened bedroom door while he’d already grabbed his boxer-briefs to hurriedly pull them on.
And the gun from his bag.
“Don’t move,” he told her, heading out of the room with a t-shirt as well. Nico stomped down the stairs as whatever nailed against the door continued to drum loudly. He got the black shirt over his head when his bare feet hit the bottom floor. He slipped the loaded and ready handgun behind his back as he came to the front door.
The first thing he planned to change in this house? The windowless entrance. He yanked open the door without warning, mid-bang, with a snarled, “Who the fuck wants to play a game with me tonight?”
Nico let that gun come out to his side, visible, when he saw who waited on the other side of the door.
Anthony Carcoli. Three duffle bags sat at the man’s feet.
Nico’s heart slammed against his ribcage and acid churned in his stomach. He hadn’t laid eyes on Carcoli in a hot minute, and it could have been a lot fucking longer as far as Nico cared. Staring at Anthony’s face brought up memories Nico would much rather forget.
“You.”
“Five million, plus ten percent to go along with the fact I showed up to make peace with you,” the man said. “That’s the apology.”
His black suit melted into the darkness around him.
The second thing Nico needed to change? The lack of lighting on his front door. Fuck.
“Nico?” came Frankie’s voice from behind him.
Carcoli’s dark eyes lit up at the voice, his brow furrowing. “Who’s that, Little Nicky? She sounds—”
“Get the fuck off my property, Anthony.”
Nico didn’t turn around to say anything to Frankie. He kept his eyes on the threat at the door. Money and words meant fuck all to him when far bigger things were at stake, and the two of them had bad history. Just as a bonus.