Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
I tell myself to keep my distance, but the more she tempts me, the more I falter. Carina isn’t just beautiful, she has secrets, ones that bring danger to her doorstep. But I’ll never let anyone harm her, and when she’s threatened, i’ll stop at nothing to keep her safe and in my arms.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
GILLY
She’s in the pool.
Not that I’m anywhere near her. I won’t allow myself to be. Not when she’s in a bikini and lounging in the sun like an indulgent–and fucking sexy–housecat.
“Gilly, are you even listening?” Antonio sighs.
“Of course.”
Butcher snorts.
“Shut up.” I roll my eyes at him. “You were saying my work on moving what’s left of the Larone holdings into our hands is going well except for a few disputes from the Corlettis.”
“Those pricks have zero claim on anything even remotely related to the Larone name.” Antonio shakes his head. “They just want trouble.”
“Let’s give it to them.” Butcher cracks his knuckles.
“Diplomacy first.” I’m the cautious one of the group, the most level-headed. At least I like to think so. But there’s one thing–one person–who gets under my skin and makes me anything but reasonable.
She’s in the pool. Maybe sunbathing in a chair, her bikini straps pulled down so she doesn’t get any tan lines on her smooth olive skin. My mouth waters.
“The Corlettis are the closest thing the Frangiones had to allies. They’re sore about how we handled those assholes.” I shrug. “The Corlettis would never dare challenge you to your face. Not after what happened with the Frangione heirs and Constantine Larone.” I glance at Butcher, a small, satisfied smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. We effectively destroyed the den of vipers known as the Frangione family. It only makes sense that the Corlettis are seeking to fill the void. “They’ve been using a light touch so far.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m going to give them anything.” Antonio glowers.
“Nothing of consequence, but we should always remember to throw the dogs some table scraps.” I think through the small list of Larone holdings. “Toss them the coke connection to South America through the Orlavs.”
Antonio’s face brightens a bit at that. “The operation you suspect has an FBI informant in it?”
I nod. “We’ll wash our hands of it entirely. Let the Corlettis deal with the Feds.”
“I hate giving them anything except a bullet,” Butcher says.
“This is worse than a bullet. The Feds will bleed them slowly.”
That makes Butcher smile. Of course it does.
“All right. Enough business.” Antonio waves us away. “I promised Angelica a nice dinner in the city this evening. I need to get ready.”
Butcher’s already moving to the door, as if he was simply waiting for the all clear so he could return to Bianca in their wing of the house. The love bug has bitten the Palermo family hard. First Antonio and now Butcher–two men who I never imagined would fall in love. But now they’re ruled by it, and I have to say I’m rather liking the change.
They hurry away to their respective wives as I glance toward the foyer. I should walk down the hall and out the front door. Maybe take a drive to the city or occupy myself with more work, balancing accounts, checking for any bullshit in the Larone books.
Instead, my feet carry me toward the back of the house. It’s dusk, the sun coating the trees and landscaping in a warm golden glow.
It coats her, too.
I stop, my breathing suddenly faster, my palms going sweaty, my cock getting achingly hard. She’s right where I knew she would be.
Why do I do this to myself? It’s fucking torture. That’s Butcher’s forte, not mine. But here I am, watching her through the window as she naps, her lithe body on display in a white bikini that leaves very little to the imagination. Not that I need it. I know every curve and dip of Carina’s body, every inch of her committed to memory. The way her pouty lips purse after she’s said something particularly sassy, the way she sways her hips when she walks, the scar on her left ankle from a bike accident when she was six, and a million other details that don’t escape my notice.
She shifts, her legs spreading the slightest bit, giving me a perfect view of the triangle of white fabric between her thighs. I move closer to the window, my eyes straining against the falling night. The outline of her pussy lips presses against the fabric, giving me a tantalizing view of her most intimate parts. Parts I want to worship with my tongue, my fingers, my cock. Parts I want to coat with my cum so everyone knows who she belongs to.
My heart hammers, my cock pressing against my pants as the reasonable, intelligent parts of my brain shut down. All I can see is her. All I want is her. How many times have I imagined taking her? Holding her down as she pants my name, giving her every inch of me until she shudders and gasps, pleasure overcoming even her sharp tongue. Fuck, I want it so badly that sometimes I wonder if I might lose my goddamn mind.