Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
I let go, pumping my load into him, reveling in the hot, slick feel of it.
“So good. So fucking good,” he cried. “I almost think I could come again.”
“Now. Who’s. Insatiable?” I pushed the words out around ragged breaths.
He huffed out a laugh. “Only with you.”
I looked up, and our eyes met. “Niall…”
He laid a finger against my lips. “Not yet. Let’s just enjoy tonight and worry about everything else after this mission is done.”
“All right. How about this? For the rest of the night we enjoy each other, order some good food, drink, talk.”
He scowled at me and looked pointedly at my shoulder. “You know you’re not supposed to drink while—”
“Let me live a little.”
“I’m already compromising my principles by letting you participate in the takedown.”
“There’s no letting. I’m doing it, and you’re not going to fight me.”
“I’m fairly sure I could win that fight right now.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
He sniffed. “And you call me arrogant.”
“We’re going to enjoy a good dinner and a nice glass of wine. I won’t even go for anything stronger.”
He rolled his eyes.
“And we won’t talk about the mission. We’re just going to try to—”
“Relax?”
“Right.”
“I think you know I’m not any good at that.”
“Then the practice will be good for you.”
“Fine. I agree to your terms, but I have one stipulation to add.”
I frowned. “What’s that?”
“You have to order your favorite meal.”
“That I can do.” I ordered veal saltimbocca from Lucien’s restaurant, DiGiulio’s, They didn’t actually deliver to the address we were staying at, but I called in a favor. I added garlic knots, cheesecake, and a bottle of wine to the order. When the food was dropped off, Niall’s eyes went wide. “This smells amazing.”
“It will taste even better.”
“Come on and help me get everything set up. I’ve only got one arm to work with here.”
“And yet you think you can—”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Niall pushed the dresser over to the side of the bed, and we spread the food out on top of it. We could leave the room and sit at an actual table, but we wanted privacy, so we’d asked to have glasses, plates, and silverware sent up to our room.
He poured us each a glass of wine, then joined me on the bed. I lifted my glass. “To a night away.”
“A night away.”
We clinked glasses, and when I looked at him, there was wonder in his eyes I’d only seen when we were in bed. “I… um…”
“Remember the rules.”
I nodded. Niall picked up a garlic knot and took a bite. His groan sounded like the one he made as he took me inside him.
I wanted to ignore the pain in my shoulder, pin him down, and fuck him senseless. After I’d finished dinner of course. I was starving.
The saltimbocca was incredible. DiGiulio’s never disappointed. Only my nonna—God rest her soul—could make it better.
Niall was clearly enjoying the food, but he seemed far away. His expression was much too serious, more like the man he’d been before we’d started our mission.
I startled him by kissing the side of his head. “We can do this. We’re going to get them.”
“I know. I just…”
“Old memories?”
“Yes, and… new worries.”
Did he mean me? “My arm hurts, but I can use it if I need to.”
“You might do more damage then.”
“I’ll heal. I always have.”
“How many times have you been shot?”
“This makes two. But I’ve been stabbed a few times and beaten up a hell of a lot.”
“What about you?”
“I’ve also been shot twice and… had plenty of other injuries.”
“Yet here we sit.”
“We were lucky to get off that island.”
“Then we’ll have to be lucky again.”
Niall sighed. “We’re not supposed to be talking about this.”
“Fuck, you’re right. Tell me what you do when you’re not working.”
He stared at me for a moment, then stalled by eating another bite of the incredible dinner. “This is amazing. No wonder it’s your favorite.”
“It’s perfection, but you didn’t answer my question.”
He shrugged. “I’m basically always working.
“No wonder you were so uptight when we met.”
He laughed, but it sounded strained. “I run. I watch a lot of documentaries. I put models together. I’m boring.”
“No, you’re definitely not boring, but back up. Models? Like those crazy little ships people stick in bottles?”
“I’ve made ships but never in a bottle. I mostly do reproductions of historic homes or vehicles.”
Marco grinned. “I can see that. All that precision and meticulous detail. It’s perfect for you.”
A gorgeous blush reddened his cheeks. “Please tell me you do something embarrassing too.
“Nope. I just drink, watch TV, and ride my bike.”
He raised a brow.
“Okay, fine. I’ve seen every episode of The Great British Bake Off, and I like those videos where people convert vans to tiny houses and travel around in them.”
Niall smiled. “I thought you weren’t into traveling.”
“I didn’t say that. I said I hadn’t done a lot of traveling. Eventually, I’ll get too old for my line of work. Maybe then I’ll buy a van of my own, or I’ll luck out on a lucrative job and get myself an island.”