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I run my fingers through his wet hair. “I’m feeling the rhythm, Dean. I’m feeling it.”
“It’s like every time I’m around you, my heart raps like a million machine guns firing.”
I kiss him, pulling back after a minute of feeling his lips against mine. “I feel the same way.”
It isn’t an admission of love, because Dean and I don’t need that right now in this moment of time. No, we only need each other. We only need the promise that this thing between us is heading in the right direction.
He tugs at my hair, bringing my head back so he can kiss me again. His body feels good against mine and as the water hits us, he makes love to me in his shower.
His movements become hurried, frenzied even as he pushes into me harder and harder. My body trembles, my orgasm looming in the distant future. I drag my nails down his back as his fingers dig into the skin of my ass cheek.
“I’m so close,” I call out, my body turning to fire in an instant from all the lust coursing through my blood.
“Give it to me,” he demands. “Give me everything, Sophia.”
He pounds into me harder, making my orgasm swell and crash into me like a tsunami.
He follows me, his orgasm showing up moments after mine.
Later, I make it to Rosa’s house. Her daughter lets me in when I knock, and I step into the living room. It’s warm and quaint with sunlight shining in through the bay window. There’s a blue couch hidden beneath magazine clippings of dresses and nails. Most likely the daughter’s handiwork.
“My mom will be right out,” she says, sitting on the couch and picking up a magazine.
“Thank you. What’s your name?” I ask her as I take a seat on a pink couch across from the blue one.
“Daphne.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Daphne just kind of grunts with a head nod, and I chalk it up to a teenager thing.
Rosa steps into the living room through a back hallway. “Sophia, let’s talk in here.”
I stand, nod to Daphne, and follow Rosa into the kitchen.
“How are you?” she asks, pulling me in for a hug.
“I’m ok.” I return the hug, feeling a sense of happiness and familiarity with her.
“I saw you with Bishop at the club and got worried.”
I nod. “It’s ok. I’m a big girl.” I wink.
“Well he’s left town now. He’s in Miami.”
I blink. “Maybe I should go there.”
Rosa raises a brow. “You need to be careful.” Then her face softens into a smile. “Do you want some tea?”
“Ok, sure.”
She busies herself with getting down two mugs and pouring the hot water from the tea pot. She smiles at me as she hands me my cup. “As you know I worked with Bishop for a long time, running things.”
I stir a little sugar into my tea. “I know.”
“I was happy to finally get away from him, putting in my time and retiring to this house he bought me. I’m still a servant to him, for the most part, but I’m able to live my own life now.”
“That’s a good thing. I’m happy for you.”
She takes a sip of her tea, her long brown hair falling over her face, hiding it from me just a bit. “I know a lot of his secrets. I know how he was able to get you across the border. I know which company helped him.”
I hold my breath. “Why did you tell me Bishop would be at Mia’s house on that night that I went there?”
She takes another long sip of her tea. “He should have been there. I don’t know why he didn’t go. Someone said it’s because he got a tip on one of the other daughters surfacing in LA, so he went there instead.”
“Oh, ok.”
“Are you ok?” Rosa places her hand over mine and gives it a little squeeze.
I nod. “I’m doing really good. I, uh, met someone. He’s great.”
Rosa’s face lights up. “Tell me all about him.”
“I promise I will, but first can you show me what you know?”
She nods. “Sit tight, let me get the paperwork.” She gives my hand another squeeze as she gets up to leave the room.
I glance around, looking at her very normal kitchen. You’d never suspect looking at a kitchen like this that she once worked for the most notorious mob boss in the world.
She’s got pasta sauce in a large pot on the stove. The garlic smells delicious, and my stomach grumbles a little.
Rosa returns after a few minutes. “Listen, this information could get me killed. You were never here.”
I nod. “Absolutely.”
She hands me some paperwork, and I glance at it, not sure what I’m looking at.
She points to a name. “This is the name of the company who made sure the shipping containers made it to America.”
