Page 39 of Duty

It was only when she could barely speak, he knew she was aching, and she begged for him to come that he finally let go of that control he’d been holding onto. He pulled her off the desk, put her to her knees, and yanked off the condom before Haven had his dick all the way down her throat. She sucked him dry—until his balls hurt, and his spine turned numb from the sparks flying behind his eyes.

She was teeth, tongue, and lips on his dick.

Using all of it.

And he heard nothing but blood in his ears when he finally came. She took every drop from him, too. Took it all in, and swallowed it down.

Andino was just catching his goddamn breath when the noise started outside the office. Swearing, and shouting. Something heavy being thrown around, and groans of pain following right behind. Haven’s eyes widened as she looked up at him from her knees.

He wanted to comfort her—tell her it was okay.

Problem was, he knew those voices.

Enforcers.

Marcello enforcers.

This was business, and he couldn’t say a thing. Maybe he could make it quieter, though. That was just about the best he could do.

“Is someone getting beat up? Go help them!”

“No, and also no,” Andino said quickly, tucking himself back into his pants. Haven was still on her knees when he stepped away from her, and headed for the door. He opened it just a crack to see some of his guys beating the hell out of a dealer who had been sliding in on Andino’s business at the club—it was an on-going issue. “Hey!”

The enforcers stopped.

Andino cocked a brow. “Take that shit outside, cafones. Business like this doesn’t happen in the club. You know the fucking rules.”

Neither of the two men questioned Andino. The bloodied man on the ground looked like he probably couldn’t even see out of his swollen eyes.

“You got it, boss.”

Andino closed the door.

Haven was already getting dressed when he turned around. “I should go.”

“Don’t let that bother you,” he said.

She shook her head. “It didn’t.”

Except it had.

He could see it.

Fuck.

• • •

“Fucking finally,” his boss—and uncle—grumbled as Andino strolled through the office doors of Dante’s home, “he decides to roll his ass out of bed, and come see little old me when I call on him. Good morning, Andino. Take a seat.”

Andino passed his father in the corner a nod, but gave Dante the majority of his attention. Clearly, he’d pissed his uncle off in one way or another, and that wasn’t good for business when it came right down to it.

“Sorry,” Andino said, “long night.”

It wasn’t a lie. He hadn’t stopped moving in almost two weeks. Business picked up, and between shit he was trying to handle—like a gun run, and keeping the details well hidden from his uncle lest Dante find out it was a man he despised running them for their family—and the fact he had a whole host of new responsibilities for Cosa Nostra, it just never ended.

Hell, he hadn’t even seen Haven since that night at his club a while back. He didn’t have time, and he couldn’t seem to make it. It was the end of fucking August now, and the woman probably thought he didn’t give a shit about her.

Giovanni perked his head up at that statement. “Work?”