AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So, Delilah, what do you do over at Jerzy Girls?” Teresa asks, looking genuinely intrigued. “You work as Dante’s assistant, yes?”
I’ve always been fond of Teresa, despite her bringing Paulie into the world and choosing to hook herself to Tony. I like even more how my wife seems to have created a friendship with the woman who once knew her mother.
Lilah needs that, a woman in her life. Bonus, she’s a woman in her life who knows this life.
“You know, a bit of this, a bit of that. I help make sure the girls have anything they need, get payroll in line—that kind of thing.” As I listen to them talk, I finish my meal and place my fork down before moving both of my hands to my lap and sitting back in my chair. Then I slowly creep one hand over, over, over until it lands on the fabric on her sweet knee-length dress.
It’s beautiful, of course, but when I saw her in it, the first thing I thought of was flipping the floaty skirt up and bending her over in a corner while I fucked her from behind.
Since that isn’t in the cards just yet, I move my fingers, pulling the fabric up until my hand is on her warm skin.
From the very corner of my eye, I see the tiniest tip of her tongue leave her mouth, wetting her lips.
But other than that, she’s as unfazed as ever.
My hand stays there for a minute, a long minute as I feel the heat of her sin, before her hand—the one not holding her fork—moves under the table, covering mine. And then, as always, she surprises me.
I don’t know how, since it seems Lilah only knows how to surprise me.
But I definitely wasn’t expecting her to gently take my hand and slide it up her thigh until my pinky finger gently grazes her pussy.
Her bare pussy.
The woman has no fucking panties on.
All my brain can think of is her warning to me two long weeks ago.
I’m not going to make it easy on you.
“Well, you know, Delilah worked as a stripper before she came to us,” Angela says, sitting across from me, and my eyes cut to her.
I truly hate the woman.
Having my hand on Lilah’s warm thigh helps the urge to say something mean and aggressive to Angela, something that could ruin her as my cover. Except for when the pointy fucking nails Lilah always has dig into the skin of my hand.
In response, I move my pinky to soothe her, to quell her anger, grazing where she’s already getting wet for me.
It’s been too fucking long.
She needs me just as badly as I need her.
Watching her make herself come in her room last week was nice—a new experience, a taunting one, knowing I couldn’t help or take over, but my own orgasm barely cut the edge off my need for her.
And each day since, that need has doubled like some kind of radioactive ingredient, taking over my body until fucking her is all I can think about.
“And that’s relevant, how?” Teresa asks. She’s sitting across the table, next to her son, and leans forward to get a better look at Angela. I can nearly see the unique brand of Italian-American mother rage pouring off her in waves.
Angela, though, is dumb as a box of rocks.
“I’m just saying, is all.” She shrugs. “Maybe her intentions are, you know, money.”
Lilah snorts.
She snorts and then, unable to hold it back, actually laughs out loud for nearly a minute, a minute where I have to fight the urge to either join in on laughing or grab her face and pull it to me because I fucking love that sound and this woman to my core. Finally, she wipes a tear from her eyes, waving at her face with a huge smile on her lips.
“God, Angie. That’s good!” Angela grits her teeth. She despises when anyone shortens her name, and since she clearly hates Lilah, it probably pisses her off even more. “I guess it takes one to know one, right?”
I watch Teresa’s eyes go wide, her lips rolling between her teeth as she fights a laugh.
