Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I say nothing. Guilt shimmies in my guts. After Shawn, I was a fucking mess, drinking myself into oblivion, waiting for the world to come crashing down around my shoulders.
That’s when I met Stellan. He dragged me from the grave and gave me a second chance. He saved my life.
Without him, I’d be feeding worms right now.
My fingers graze the dove tattoo on my chest.
Without Stellan, I wouldn’t have a shot at revenge.
I march forward and reach the back of the van. The doors open easily. Inside, boxes marked with Pokémon logos are stacked in tight. A man jumps out with a groan, knuckling his back and stretching his legs.
David Sorensen beams at me as he gestures. “Brought your goods.”
“This the new investor?” Stellan introduces himself.
“It’s nice to meet you, Don Corsetti.” David speaks with appropriate reverence. “I didn’t expect you here.” He shoots me a panicked look. Probably worried he fucked up.
“Big boss only wanted to see the goods. You mind?”
“Not at all.” David ducks in and grabs one of the boxes. He cuts it open with a pocket knife.
Inside are stacks of Pokémon card boxes.
“What am I looking at here?” Stellan asks, sounding confused.
“A new transportation option.” David takes out a booster box and slices it open. Small plastic baggies of cocaine spill out onto the van’s floor. “Clever, huh? Won’t fool a dog, but you know.”
Stellan sighs, tilting his chin to the sky. “The modern fucking world.”
“People love that Poke-man shit.” I pat David roughly on the back. “And this guy’s a genius when it comes to logistics. There’s a reason we’re working together.”
“Mostly thanks to his personal assistant. Does she know what we were really negotiating? No, probably not, but don’t worry. I’m not going to tell.”
“His personal assistant is his new wife, so you’d better be careful.” Stellan holds out a hand, palm up. “Keys now, please.”
David’s grin fades. He looks from Stellan back to me. “I thought you were going to unload it?”
“Back at the warehouse,” Stellan confirms. “You don’t mind walking, do you, David?”
“Not at all, not at all, go ahead, she’s all yours.” David quickly gives him the keys. “Don’t even bother returning her. Heck, consider it a present!”
“Thanks, David.” Stellan climbs behind the wheel and fires it up.
Must be nice, being the fucking Don.
I sit heavily behind my desk, happy to be off my feet. My knee aches from walking too much, an old injury from my younger and more violent days. Sometimes I can still feel the way it broke, a big, heavy-set thug’s heel grinding down into the bone for five seconds, long enough for me to jam my knife into his calf. He’d probably still be suffering the same way I am if I hadn’t killed him.
“There you are. I was starting to think you’d taken off the whole day.” Deanna comes waltzing into the room without knocking. She’s been doing that for a while, and you’d think she’d learn her lesson after catching me in several compromising situations.
I massage my knee. “I’m starting to think I should have.”
“Hilarious.” She flips open her planner. “I have a few messages for you. There was an issue at the Dolphin lot, Albert says to call him back, and David called only ten minutes ago to ask if you’re happy with how your meeting went.” She looks up and snaps the book shut. “You met with David?”
“It was a casual thing,” I say, holding out my hand. “Let me see that.”
She comes around, not happy about giving over her precious ledger. I swear that planner is the bane of my existence. But instead of taking it, I grab her by the wrist and haul her down into my lap.
“Prime!” She lands with an undignified yelp as I grip her hips to keep her in place. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Greeting my wife. Hello, darling.” I kiss the back of her neck.
“Okay, enough.” She wriggles and fuck, that feels good. “You’re trying to distract me.”
“Is it working?”
“Not in the—ooooh.” My hand moves down her thigh, the other slipping up to cup her breasts. “Prime… uh…”
I kiss her neck again. “How about now?”
“I don’t… you shouldn’t…” She’s breathless, her heart racing. I feel it as I caress her beautiful tits over her thin dress shirt. Her nipples stiffen, fighting against her bra.
“Did you leave the door open?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
My fingers slide between her legs. “What a terrible decision.”
“You can’t…”
“I can’t? Or you don’t want me to? Those are very different things, love.” I reach up her skirt and stroke her.
“Oh shit,” she groans, leaning into me. Her knees part and give me more space to move. I stroke her again, teasing her nipple. “I shouldn’t—“
“But you want to.”
“Prime!” She snaps her knees shut. “Did you hear that?”
“Only your imagination.”
But she’s already getting up, straightening her skirt. She hurries to the door, looking afraid and flustered, her cheeks bright red. It’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life. My dick’s raging hard and all I want in the world is to bend her over my desk and fuck the life out of her. In all the time we’ve been working together, I’ve never once felt this way, like if I didn’t get to fill her and ruin her and feel her tight cunt stressing around my big dick, I’d break to pieces in my own damn pants.