Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“What was that about?” he asks, turning to me.
“Huh?”
“Listening to those two…” His eyes narrow as though part of him suspects the answer. Yet I don’t know how that could be when I’m unsure.
I shrug. “They just sounded so in love. So sure. They sounded young, right?”
“They looked young when they came into view.”
“But they were so sure,” I say.
Matt reaches up and gently smooths my hair from my face. “Is that what you want, to be that sure?”
My body tingles like song notes surging through me, telling me to get steamy with him again. The fact that we didn’t go all the way is good. It means I didn’t have to get into the whole never-had-sex-before deal.
“Do you?” I counter.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MATTEO
When she asks me if I wish I were as sure as those two lovestruck high schoolers, I almost tell her something irresponsible. I nearly say, “I’m sure already.” Yet apart from that being a lie—a man in my position can’t be sure about anything except the need to stay strong—I know it would be dangerous.
Maybe all this fire that’s suddenly filled me is a result of the fact my dick is still aching, precome leaking from my end. If those lovers hadn’t interrupted us, I know I would have laid Bella as gently as I could in the grass, pulled her dress up, brought my manhood to her soppy, tight, hot-as-fuck sex, and …
“We should get going,” she murmurs when I don’t answer, sounding slightly disappointed. “Right?”
This is my chance to bring out the romance and say something meaningful, but getting close to her is a bad idea. I knew it when I brought her out here, but that doesn’t mean anything has changed.
“Yeah,” I say, walking over to the car, unlocking it, and opening the passenger-side door.
She walks past me, risking a look out of the corner of her eye like she thinks I’ll snap. It’s almost like she’s afraid of me, almost like all that kissing and closeness never happened.
Pulling away from the park, I say, “Your most recent video …”
“What about it?”
“It’s different from the version you sent me.”
“Yeah.” A note of tempting sassiness flutters in her voice. “So what?”
I glance at her, smirking at how she stares at me, all fire. “Was that intentional?”
She hesitates for a moment, then reaches over and touches my hand. “What do you think?”
From her tone and inclination, this isn’t a question. Obviously, we can both feel something, and we need to fight it for our own reasons. Maybe she’s scared of losing me as a client. I’m almost jealous of her if that’s her reason. Mine is far darker.
If I get too close to her and certain people find out, she could lose her life, and it’d be all my fault.
After dropping Bella off, I go to the club and sit in the office, nursing a whiskey. I’ve always found that this phrase doesn’t apply to me. I rarely drink, but if I do, I don’t make a ceremony of it. I toss it down the hatch and then get on with whatever I’ve got to do. Yet now, thinking of Bella, the kiss, the closeness, the impossibility …
I glide my finger around the glass. When the door opens, I stand up, hand going for my hip.
Elio smirks at me in his classic way-too-chill fashion. The universe could blow to pieces, and he’d still have that relaxed posture. Only a select few can see past it into the darkness.
“Relax,” he says.
“I could say the same to you,” I reply, reading the tightness in his expression.
“No, this is good news.” He wanders over to the desk, sitting opposite me. “I’ve arranged a meeting with Gallo. He doesn’t know it’s us. We’ll be able to spring a trap on the bastard. He rocks up, we clear him out, and the city can return to normal. No more TNT. No more crap.”
His tone grows savage, a reminder of just how fierce he is. I never needed one, but sometimes it’s good to know that my little brother isn’t what people think. In some ways, he’s crazier than me, and that’s saying a lot.
“You good?” he asks.
“So we’re doing the therapy thing now?” I mutter.
“You sound like Dad.”
“Maybe he had a point. Maybe a man discussing his feelings all the damn time can’t lead to anything good.”
“Just hearing you say the word feelings is a trip. What happened tonight?”
“When’s the meet?” I counter.
He chuckles grimly. “Smooth subject change.”
“Thanks,” I mutter. “So?”
“Day after tomorrow at the docks. Orlando will think he’s got another shipment coming in, but when he opens the container, he’ll have a nasty surprise instead. We can bury him right there in the docks.”
“Cement boots,” I say, nodding. It’s not the first time we’ve done this. “You seem more willing …”