Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
She did all she could, nod.
His hands found her face then, and he pressed kiss after kiss to her jaw, chin, and lips until she started kissing him back. He caught the single tear that fell from her eyelashes with the pad of his thumb, swiping it away before it could do any damage.
“None of that,” he joked, “or Carina will have my head.”
She ignored that.
“I haven’t been doing anything. Just so you know.”
He nodded, that stare of his drinking her in again. “Oh, trust me. I know. And I love it.”
That felt a lot more like I love you.
“What I wouldn’t give right now for thirty seconds alone with you behind a locked door in that dress,” he added.
She grinned. “You’re so bad.”
“Hey, no sex needed. That’s the rule.”
Her resolve weakened.
Hell, what resolve?
Frankie reached over and twisted the lock on the doorknob. “Thirty seconds. Locked door. Me in this dress.”
Nico shook his head, letting out a slow breath as his gaze stayed nailed to hers. “Baby girl, don’t you test me...”
“Thirty seconds,” she repeated.
That time, it sounded like a challenge. Even she heard it.
And damn, he took it.
“Hike that fucking dress up.”
It took him twenty-five seconds. Twenty-five seconds that she somehow managed to count, three fingers thrusting into her and curling forward, and the husky promise of something amazing. The orgasm that found her with her body jammed between him and the vanity, silk pulled high between them, was unreal. He’d never done that to her before. Even her own fingers couldn’t. And whatever throwaway fun she had dry humping in the front seat of her ex’s car couldn’t compare.
“Oh, my God, oh, my God, what the fuck—”
“Just let it go for me, trust me,” he breathed against her cheek.
It started deeper. Higher. Her whole lower half flexed when it came on in a rush.
Nico pulled back then, out of the way, while still rubbing her clit. She understood why he’d taken his jacket off and rolled up his sleeve. Water hit the floor. As his massaging moved lower, it fell in rivulets from his wrist.
Or—
“Is that pee?”
She couldn’t think enough to be ashamed of what had just happened. Between the intense shivers, her shaking legs, and Nico clouding her vision, she didn’t know what to say or do.
He caught her with another searing kiss.
“Just making you rain,” he said, grinning against her tender lips. “Don’t you know how good that means it was?”
Oh, yeah. She certainly felt that.
“I’ll always clean it up. And you.”
Jesus.
“That’s gonna go past thirty seconds,” she replied.
“Fair point.”
At that statement, he pulled her away from the counter, picking her up entirely and setting her back down apart from the puddle on the floor. He used the hand towel to wipe her down, helping her out of a soaked silk thong that he pocketed like it was nothing and had just shoved aside to get inside her earlier.
Nico pulled her dress down and threw the hand towel to the floor after, standing up straight while she fixed how the fabric laid across her hips. He twirled his finger, a silent command for her to spin.
She did.
“Perfect,” he praised. “Not a drop on you.”
God, that did something to her.
“I fucking love you,” he uttered.
Frankie blinked. “W-what?”
Like he had also realized at the same time what he just said, Nico glanced away. “Yeah, uh, I do. But just don’t, okay?”
“Don’t say it back?”
He said nothing.
That hurt.
“Whatever, Nico,” she muttered.
“Hey, Frankie, please—”
His words cut off as she unlocked and flung open the door. Not because she’d opened it, but rather, from the person waiting on the other side.
Arms folded, smirk in place. Ink vibrant under the hall lights.
“Go,” she heard Nico hiss behind her.
Frankie listened, not even acknowledging Marco as she headed directly past him.
“Hey, little brother,” Marco Russo said as she departed, his grin deepening as his gaze moved to the person she left behind. “Well, if this isn’t déjà-fucking-vu, huh? It’s always bathrooms with you two.”
15. — knowing when...
Staten Island, New York
Nico, Gallo Estate
Nico hadn’t kept track of how much time passed since he last saw his brother, but their final disastrous dinner happened shortly before he left for Miami. It didn’t take more than a look between the two for Nico to know not a damn thing had changed with Marco, either.
A movement in the corner of his eye drew Nico’s attention. Frankie peeked around the corner again. Nico’s head ticked sideways, a silent order for her to leave. She disappeared behind the wall, and hopefully, stayed gone.
Marco caught the exchange.
“She’s really grown up, huh?”
“She is nothing to you,” Nico said.
Marco snickered. “Ten minutes, I bet. Just her and I, and ten minutes.”
“That girl wouldn’t let you within two feet.”
“Nobody said anything about letting me, Nicky.”
Oh, that hit close to home. Nico’s molars crunched audibly. “Does Dad know you still let Anthony get that ass?”