Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
I come once he starts sucking on my nipples again. I can’t help myself. I shiver, hands on his knees, coming wildly as he flicks a tongue over my stiff buds and strokes my clit with his thumb. “God damn, you feel so good,” he moans and I feel him come too. A surge of pride rolls down my spine. He can’t help himself, just like I can’t help it either.
I shift back and drop to me knees in front of him. He laughs as I lick his half-hard cock, cleaning him up. It’s a mixture of his cum and my pussy, and once I’m done, I straddle him again. This time, he holds me against him.
“Welcome home,” I whisper and he lets out a big, satisfied sigh. It brings a smile to my face.
“Do you want to know what happened?”
“I guess. Mostly I want you to get hard and fuck me again. I have all this freaking residual worry.”
He fills me in on the night’s events. When he’s done, I already feel him stirring under my warm pussy.
“Do you think that’ll be enough?” I ask, chewing on his lip.
“I hope so. The Irish are going to hit back and Renzo’s not going to be happy that we left a body at the scene for the cops to investigate, but it’ll blow over.”
“And my father?”
“That’s up to you.” He strokes a thumb down my lips. “Now it’s your turn to decide what you want, baby.”
“No pressure or anything.”
“Your plan, remember?”
“I know.” I slip back off him and drop to my knees for a second time. “Can we just not talk about that for a little while?”
“You won’t hear me argue.”
I lick his cock nice and slow, looking up into his eyes. “I want you to make me feel better, Gian.”
“I can do that.”
“I want you to make it hurt too. Just a little bit.” I suck his tip nice and hard and look up at him. “Can you do that for me?”
“I can definitely do that, baby,” he says, his eyes like fire as his hand grips my hair and pushes me down onto his cock. I’m smiling as I suck him nice and deep, already forgetting about everything but him.
Chapter 40
Allegra
Gian parks the truck, looking skeptical. “Are you sure this is the place?”
“Yep, definitely the place.” I unbuckle my seatbelt and stretch out my legs. It took around an hour to wind our way into the Bucks County suburbs.
“I find it really difficult to believe that your father’s family meets in an old bowling alley.”
“Try harder then.”
He laughs softly and puts a hand on my thigh. It’s an unconscious gesture. Gian’s always touching me like he can’t help himself.
“Dante’s parked nearby with Carlo. What’s your plan?”
“Stay close. I’m going inside.”
“Are you sure that’s safe?”
“My dad’s pissed at me, but he doesn’t want me dead.” Probably. I hope, anyway. “Wait for me to text before you come inside.”
“I can do that, but are you sure you want to go in alone?” His concern is touching, but I shake my head.
“I need to do this. It’s important.”
“Important to me and my family, but what about what you need?”
“You’ve done plenty for that as it is.” I lean over and kiss his cheek. He catches my hair and pulls me in, holding me as his tongue invades my mouth. When we break apart, I’m breathless and dizzy, but no time to take this to its logical conclusion.
“Break a leg,” he says.
“Hopefully, nobody’s getting any broken bones tonight, but thanks.” I step out of the truck. His old SUV disappeared, and though he didn’t tell me why, I’m guessing it’s because of what happened with that Irish guy.
The bowling alley looks abandoned. There are other cars in the parking lot, but they’re spread out as if they were just left overnight. When I reach the doors though, I find them unlocked, and the lights are on inside. I take a deep breath, suddenly very nervous, as I walk inside.
Everything’s bathed in black lights. Colors glow neon-bright and absurdly loud pop music blares from all the speakers. It’s the alley’s Cosmic Bowling setup, something they do for the early day crowd to make things a little more fun. Only one lane is active, and a lone bowler keeps on taking turns, throwing hard and loud, smashing pins.
My hands shake as I walk toward a group of men huddled near that active lane. Nobody notices me at first. There are twelve of them, men I’ve known for most of my life. Uncle Gasparo, Uncle Sanzio, Uncle Alvino, Uncle Como, and a few others. Only Gasparo and Sanzio are related to me by blood; the rest are my fake uncles, members of my father’s inner circle, his best friends and most trusted Capos. Some of the guys I don’t know well, and I assume those are the respected and trusted soldiers that were invited to this little gathering.