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The pit in my stomach evaporates into warm mist all over my insides. I can feel his smirk through the phone and can’t wait to bury myself in his chest.
Thank God he’s okay.
I can’t live like this – in worry all the time – but the sound of his voice sent me straight from the depths of hell to cloud nine.
“What should I wear?”
“The less the better.”
Tingles pinch me all over. Something skimpy. Fine. I can do that.
For once I’m all freshened up and ready to be wooed. He might like me less for it, given how sick he is, but he’ll just have to deal with it.
I fantasize about the night before, when he licked every part of me despite how I felt. My salty neck, my toes, my ass. Am I a goddess to him?
Looking in the mirror I realize I’m blushing.
It’s hot outside tonight, so I slip into some pretty short-shorts and my favorite blouse for showing off the girls. He’ll have a view no matter which way I’m facing. I lick my lips as my mind wanders again to last night. A whirlwind of romance and pleasure… and a declaration that tugged on all the strings.
He loves me.
I love him.
I bite my lower lip. It’s too good to be true.
Good thing my make-up was already done since I had the whole damn afternoon to do nothing but worry. I hear the rumble of his Range Rover outside, so I slip into my nicest Tori Birch flats and rush out of my apartment into the fresh air.
I open the car door to see him unscathed, with one arm around the passenger’s headrest like normal. Something’s off, though. A hint of worry in his eyes that flashes away the instant I lean in for a kiss.
“So it all worked out?” I drape one arm over his belly, scratching at it.
“You speak like you had doubts.” He looks down on me, his eyes glancing over my lips, making me imagine all the things he wants to do to me.
“Just worry. I hate how you boys live,” I reiterate. “So that’s it, then? No more ‘big risky swings,’ as you say.”
He nods, but there’s another flash of worry.
“What is it, Castor? I can read you like a book.”
He grunts and pulls away, eyes on the road. “Something the Russian said left a real bad taste in my mouth.”
“I thought you like bad tastes?” I twirl my finger in between the buttons of his shirt.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You taste great.” He smirks again.
My insides wilt. That settles it. I’m his goddess. “What did he say? If you’re still here, it can’t be that bad.”
“That’s the thing. I don’t know what he’s done, but he seemed really confident that he pulled a trigger somewhere that I can’t see.”
My brow furrows. I don’t know much about mafia business dealings, but if Castor’s worried, I probably should be too. “Do you trust him to carry out his part?”
“There’s no reason he shouldn’t. His profits will be higher than any other job if he can pivot to carry real weight.” He looks over at me to see my perplexed expression. “Oh, I trade metals, he’s used to drugs.”
“Ah.”
“His face was so smug.” Castor shakes his head. “I played my hand flawlessly. I know I did. But—”
“Maybe he was just trying to get in your head since you bested him,” I suggest.
