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"It doesn't bother you? I mean, those guys worked for Eamon."
"Yeah, I mean. There's that. But I don't know, this chip almost seems like an apology, doesn't it? Since neither of us is filthy rich or super important in the world. We would never usually get a chip. But he gave us one. Maybe Eamon is a man of few words, but meaningful actions. And, besides, you would be there with me. It's not like something bad is going to happen."
Again, it was some sound logic.
And I won't lie, the drama revolving around Eamon aside, I was curious. I had been curious ever since Harry had mentioned it.
No one I had talked to in Navesink Bank knew anything about a man named Eamon Awan, had ever heard about an underground casino. Not even Ross Ward who ran the underground fight club. You'd think those types of people would run in the same circles, rub shoulders, commiserate about the law being a problem, of having to get creative about personal security since you could never just call up the cops if there was a fight that broke out or someone stiffed you.
But Eamon was an island.
In a town full of all sorts of criminal activity where everyone knew everyone else's gig, he was anonymous.
I had enough of an ego to be excited to get an invite, to wonder what it might be like.
"So we're going," Savea concluded. "I'm guessing it is going to be a fancy, little black dress kind of place. I wish I could wear heels," she added, mostly talking aloud to herself. "But I think my physical therapist would kill me if I even tried. I can maybe pick up some fancier ballet flats or something. I mean, it's not like he can say anything since he's the reason it was broken in the first place. What?" she asked, looking up at me, brows knitted.
"Nothing," I told her, hands going into my front pockets, shoulders curling forward slightly, a sly smile pulling at my lips. "Just picturing you in a little black dress."
"Oh yeah?" she asked, her own eyes twinkling as she placed Petunia down, nearly stepping on Padfoot by her feet as she moved around the coffee table toward me. "And what does this little black dress look like in your head?" she asked, coming up close enough for our chests to brush.
"Tight," I told her, hands running down her back to sink into her ass. She smirked every time it happened. Which was often. Not that you could blame a man. I'd never seen anyone with an ass like hers.
"Tight sounds like it would work," she agreed, leaning up on her tiptoes, something I knew made her ankle twinge, but she didn't even cringe as her head dipped, her lips pressing into my neck. "Anything else?"
"Short," I told her, hand slipping up her back under her shirt, smiling when I realized the bra had been the first thing to go when she got in the door.
"Lots of leg, huh?" she asked, teeth nipping my earlobe.
"You know, I have a better idea than a black dress," I told her, snagging her shirt, dragging it up. "Yeah, I like this better," I told her, hands closing around her breasts, feeling her nipples harden immediately. I had figured, the first time, she had been so reactive simply because she had fantasized for so long about the moment. But it turned out I had underestimated her. Her body was sensitive to every slight touch. Her hands clawed at my clothes, rough, impatient, nails slicing flesh in her need.
I worked her free of her clothes, hands sliding down her back, grabbing her ass, hopping her up, feeling her legs instinctively folding across my lower back .
"Purse, counter," she murmured against my lips, guiding me in that direction, dropping her down on it on her back, going down to a squat, licking up her sweet pussy as she fumbled impatiently through her bag. "King, please," she pleaded, hands sinking into my hair, grabbing, pulling me back upward, stabbing the foil into my hand.
A flush had broken out across her chest, her back arching.
If there was ever a look I hoped I never got used to, it was her looking at me with pure need as she begged me to slide inside her.
After protecting us, I did, yanking up her legs, pressing them against my shoulders, my hand going between us to toy with her clit as I fucked her, hard, fast, as she begged for harder, faster, until she shattered around me, crying out my name as she did, taking me with her.
"As much as I like this," she told me a few minutes later, voice even. "I think we'd cause quite a scandal if I showed up naked."
"Guess we're going shopping then, huh?"
