Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
I was about to pull my shorts down when Mr. Cantucci came over to me, extending a hand. “Congrats on your victory. You and your brothers are admirable fighters. This is what the Camorra is about. You make me proud to be part of it.”
Mick lowered his head with a dejected expression. His brother touched his shoulder and sent me a hard look. I preferred it to Mr. Cantucci’s flattery, but I smiled grimly. “Thank you. The Camorra would be nothing without the men risking their lives every day like Mick and Diego.”
Those two had taken out a few Bratva hole-ups with me. Mick never fought in the forefront, but he didn’t shy back from danger either.
He raised his eyes, meeting mine. He was far from mollified but didn’t look ready to kill me anymore. After he and his family were gone, I finally stepped in the shower.
Diego perched on a bench, glaring at the floor.
“How about we celebrate my victory in a club tonight?”
His head shot up. “All right.” A hint of wariness swung in his voice. I brushed it off. He’d had his panties in a bunch for months now. Maybe now that Gemma was mine, he’d finally pull his head out of his ass again.
Once we hit the dancefloor in one of the Camorra clubs, Diego did loosen up. Drinks in hands, we checked out tonight’s offering. Soon a few girls we’d known from school came over. One of them, Dakota’s younger sister, Noemi. Diego groaned. “I hope her sister didn’t send her.”
“I doubt it. She’s got her eyes set on me, not you.”
Noemi stopped right in front of me with a coy smile. Her family had affiliations with the Camorra but even though she was part Italian, they weren’t members, not for lack of interest, but Remo hadn’t deemed them trustworthy. “Hey Savio,” she shouted, pressing into my side, not even glancing at Diego. He was being groped at by another girl.
“Do I get a wish?”
“A wish?” I took a sip from my mojito, scanning her from head to toe. Not bad.
“It’s my eighteenth birthday. And I’d like to see your bull.” She let out a giggle, her palms sliding down my chest.
Diego sent me a scowl. I doubted he could hear what she said. The music was too loud.
“My bull?” I asked with a grin.
She nodded.
Her flirting annoyed me for some reason. I had a feeling her and Dakota’s interest for Camorra men was orchestrated by their family. “I only take him out for a ride.”
She giggled again then pushed up on her tiptoes to reach my ear. “I’m going to ride him like a cowgirl.”
Her attempt to sound seductive turned out almost comical, but I was wiped out from two fights in a row, so chasing another girl would have been too strenuous. Her offer sounded like the perfect way to end this evening.
“My car,” I said with a nod toward the exit of the club. She flashed me a smile then exchanged a proud look with her companion, who was trying to chew Diego’s ear off from the look of it.
“I’m taking my bull for a ride,” I shouted to him.
Instead of the usual conspiratorial grin, his expression hardened. I didn’t linger on his bitchiness and led Noemi outside toward my new Bugatti. It wasn’t the most spacious car for a fuck. Shoving the passenger seat all the way back, I sank down and Noemi settled on my lap. Her eyes took in the luxurious interior of my car. I hadn’t brought her here for a study of automobile design, though.
Fifteen minutes later, Noemi was showing off her cowgirl moves—which reminded me of a drunk trying to do Hula Hoop—when someone hammered against my window. Noemi almost burst my eardrum with her screech, then proceeded to nearly break my fucking dick off in her attempt to scramble off my lap and clutch her clothes over her pussy.
Diego’s face loomed outside the window.
Rubbing my throbbing dick, I let down the window and cocked an eyebrow. “Fuck, Diego. Next time you feel like cock blocking, remember that I still need this dick to satisfy your sister.”
Wrong thing to say. He smashed his fist into my mouth. If it hadn’t been for my exhaustion and the worry about my affected cock, he’d never succeeded. Enraged, I landed a punch against his still fat lip before he could pull his head back.
Cursing, he clutched his mouth. I pressed my palm to my own bleeding lip. “That hand touched Noemi’s pussy and my cock before it burst your lip, asshole.”
Diego grimaced, then he nodded toward Noemi. “I’m going to turn around and you get dressed. I need to talk to Savio.”
Since my dick was currently out of order, I didn’t kick his ass for sending my quickie away. Noemi pulled her pants on then handed me a scrap of paper with her number before she disappeared. I stuffed it in my pocket. Her skills hadn’t impressed me enough to warrant a repeat performance. Still, sometimes even I got desperate.