Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
I approach the black Honda with my hands clearly visible. It’s in the parking lot of a closed Panera Bread, the familiar storefront boarded up, the signage ripped down. I feel the gun against the small of my back, but I don’t make any quick movements as a window rolls down.
Luca Moretti stares out at me, looking sour. “I fucking hate these late clandestine meetings,” he says, spitting out onto the ground. “I’m going to be exhausted tomorrow.”
“You’ll survive.” I look around, but the place is totally empty. Bushes nearby act as shelter for a homeless guy. His old beer bottles and needles litter the ground. “I need you to make a run for me.”
“I’m not your fucking errand boy, Quinn.” He turns away like he’s about to roll up his window. “Waste of fucking time.”
“Send a message to Santoro. You know, your actual fucking boss?”
He hesitates and grimaces. I’ve gotten the feeling that he doesn’t like taking money from a crime lord over the past few weeks, even though Moretti is as crooked as they come. The guy’s got half a dozen complaints filed against him, and the unofficial rumors are even uglier: harassment, murder, alleged rape and sexual misconduct, that sort of shit. He’s the kind of cop other cops absolutely despise, but can’t do anything about, because that’s how they’ve set up their little brotherhood.
“What do you want me to tell him?” Moretti asks since he knows who pays his goddamn bills.
“There’s a Bianco warehouse up north. They’re taking a shipment from Philadelphia in three days. Guns mostly, but some drugs too. Alessandro Bianco is going to inspect the goods the day after everything arrives, and I’m told that security is going to be minimal. That’s our chance.”
Moretti licks his lips. I try not to let my nerves show. “You serious about this, Quinn? You really giving the old Bianco don to Santoro?”
“I’m tired of being the small fish. Tell your fucking boss.”
Moretti grunts and shakes his head. “He’ll need assurances.”
“Fuck his assurances. If Santoro wants to take down Alessandro Bianco himself, then this is his chance. I can’t do better. Tell him I’ll contact you one more time to confirm the details.”
I can tell Moretti doesn’t like it, but there’s nothing else to say. I turn and leave him, and the filthy cop only waits a minute before his engine turns over and he pulls away. I hurry past the sleeping junkie, down a dark street, and climb into the cab of my truck.
Elena’s hunched down, slumped so low that she’s nearly sitting on the floor. “How’d that go?”
“He didn’t seem happy, but he’s going to pass along the message.” I start the engine and pull out. Elena sits up, grinning.
“That was kind of fun. I felt like a spy.”
I glance at her and shake my head. “Don’t get used to it. I only agreed to let you come along because there wasn’t going to be any danger.”
“Still, I like watching you work.” She leans across the truck and kisses my neck. Her hand moves down my chest. “It’s exciting, you know.”
“Your adrenaline’s up.”
“You’re right. And so is yours.” Her palm presses into my crotch, stroking down my hard dick. And she’s right, my heart’s racing still, and that feels fucking good. “Maybe you should pull over.”
I find a dark, quiet residential street, and Elena throws herself into my lap. I kiss her like this is our last night together, and when our clothes are off and she’s plunging up and down my hard dick, I don’t give a fuck that the whole truck’s rocking and the windows fog. There’s only Elena, my perfect wife, gliding up and down my stiff cock, and pleasure rips into my brain, my hands moving up and down her body, from her lovely breasts to her perfect hips, every inch of her all mine.
I come inside of her only a few seconds after she has a shuddering orgasm. She’s flushed and grinning as she leans against my chest, my cock still inside of her and going slowly soft. I hold her, marveling at how comfortable I am with her now.
“I’m worried,” she whispers and tries to burrow in tighter against me. “There are a lot of ways this can go wrong.”
“I know that.”
“But you seem so confident.”
“Because that’s what I have to do.” I hold her tight and breathe in the smell of her hair. “You want to know what I’m really feeling?” She nods and I can feel it in her pussy clenching down. “I’m feeling like all I ever want to do is hold you like this. Well, this and fuck you. Then hold you again.”
She laughs quietly. “I feel the same way.”
“Yeah? What’s that mean then? I shouldn’t have brought you tonight, but here you are, all because I can’t stand being away from you for too long.”