Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“Stand aside,” they say, cordoning off the partygoers to make space.
Holding Anya under the shelter of my arm, I escort her to the elevator where a man waits with her wrap and my jacket. I take her wrap and hang my jacket over her shoulders before leading her downstairs. I only breathe easier once we’re outside, far away from the shoving and bumping.
“Not too cold?” I ask, hugging her closer so that she can borrow heat from my chest. The last thing I want is for her to get sick.
“Do people always jump when you click your fingers?”
I look at her. “What do you mean?”
“They parted for you like the sea for Moses.”
“Someone could’ve bumped into you. I wasn’t going to risk it.”
“So you did that for me,” she says with a tilt of her lips.
I rub her arm to warm her. “Of course.”
“Is that how you treat all women?”
I frown. “Like what?”
“Keep them on your lap, test their drinks for poison, and feed them only the food they prefer.”
I raise a brow. “Isn’t that the norm?”
“Not by a long shot. On the few dates I’ve been, I had to fight my way to the bar to buy cheap beer for us. Half of the time, the guy got the last seat, which left me standing. If dinner was involved, I ordered whatever I could afford. No one paid attention to my menu choices. When it was time to go home, we said our goodbyes before I walked to the nearest subway station.”
What she tells me makes my vision fray around the edges. I plant my hands around her middle and turn her to face me. “I have two things to say to you. One, those assholes who treated you like that deserve to die. Two, don’t tell me about the times you were out with other men unless you want me to force their names out of you and go after every single one of those losers and kill them. Got that?”
She stares at me with big eyes.
“Actually, make that three things.” I take her hand and cup it over the raging hard-on in my pants. “This isn’t for all women. This is only for you.”
She opens and closes her mouth, looking as surprised—shocked maybe—as I am, because I didn’t plan on telling her that.
Kevin pulls up, but neither of us moves.
Her warm palm on the achingly hard length of my cock feels so good I’m tempted to lock my fingers around her wrist and use her hand for my selfish pleasure. Alas, we’re out in the open. More importantly, she’s outside in the cold.
Setting her hand free from where I trapped it, I open the car door and grip her fingers to help her down the sidewalk. “Careful. There’s a step.”
She lets me bundle her inside the back and secure her seatbelt.
When I shift onto the seat next to her, she shoots me a sidelong look.
“What?” I say, my voice thick with the lust that’s been riding me hard since she walked into my life.
Biting her lip, she puts her hand on my thigh. The touch is tentative and uncertain. Sweet.
“The other night in your kitchen … you made me feel good,” she says when Kevin pulls off. “I want to return the favor.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “What exactly are you offering?”
She clears her throat. “You know.”
“There are five possibilities in that equation—hands, mouth, tits, ass, and pussy.”
In the dim door lights, her cheeks flush tomato red.
“Hands?” she says with too much uncertainty for someone who just signed up to get me off.
Covering her hand with mine, I say, “I don’t want your favors. Come to me again when you really want to do it, and I’ll consider your offer.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Anya
The man next to me is confusing. Everything about him is a contradiction. I’ve seen how dangerous he is, yet with me, he’s strangely protective. He’s a vicious criminal but a perfect gentleman. There’s a sharp edge to his anger, a darkness inside him that sends a shiver down my spine, and at the same time, he’s so beautiful it hurts to look at him. He’s a killer, a man no one wants as an enemy, but he’s the most attentive date even though it was only a fake date.
He doesn’t abide by the law, but he lives by his own code of conduct. He’s not a mafia boss, but he’s the most powerful man in their circle. Luigi may be at the head of the organization, but Saverio runs the show. It’s plain to see. I only had to watch them in action tonight to know who calls the shots. He’s careful around Luigi, but he didn’t hesitate to tell him not to smoke in the presence of the women, and he only insisted because I’m pregnant.
I shouldn’t appreciate his consideration, but there’s no arguing that I’m grateful. I even admire him for it. He doesn’t have to look out for my baby’s wellbeing. He doesn’t owe me a single thing. In that lies the problem. I despise him for forcing me to pretend that we’re together and to lie about the murder I witnessed because he needs an alibi. Yet his thoughtful acts make it difficult to dislike him completely. No one has ever treated me with so much consideration aside from Livy. Certainly no man. With Saverio, I feel both protected and unsafe.