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After I pull up, I survey the street and tap my fingers against the steering wheel. Then I heave out an exasperated breath and turn to Avah.
Fuck, I could look at this woman all the time.
“Out with it,Tesoro.”
She gives me the kind of earnest look that could break hearts. “My boss wants me to work all day tomorrow. There’s a small shoot as well as office stuff.”
I want to say no. The silent seethe of having to ask, of her wanting this and needing to check with me, really makes me want to grin. But I don’t. She has a weapon to use against me, one I’m not sure she’s aware of.
Her. The sex. She could say no to it, and I don’t want that. Oh, I’d be able to seduce her, but I don’t want no from her. I want her wet, willing, and ready for me. I want her desperate for my cock and mouth. I want her panting and begging for all the dirty filth we can possibly do.
Because it’s going to end, and when it happens, I want my fill.
Will there ever be that?
Fuck, there’s going to have to be.
“Nicolo?”
“Sure, babe. Come on. I want to strip you naked. I want to fuck you senseless.”
A smile blooms, and it’s sweet, dirty, innocent, a siren’s song. In short, fucking glorious.
We head out of the car, and I take her bag and swing it over my shoulder.
That’s when I see my door.
Fuck.
Someone’s been busy.
“N-nicolo?”
“It’s okay, Avah.” I scout the area, but there’s no one, just the paint on the damn door. “Just your friendly neighborhood stalker.”
I hustle her inside the door, and then I do something I rarely do, immediately set the alarm.
She spins to look at me, eyes wide and frightened. “Keep out or there’ll be a war?”
“It’s fine.” I set down her bag and take her in my arms, but she struggles to get free.
“It isn’t, Nicolo. This is about me.” I didn’t let her go as she tried to tug herself away from me. But I can’t let her. If I do, I . . . “And don’t you dare try and tell me it isn’t. That this is because of your job.”
“I wasn’t going to fucking do that.”
“So, this is bad. This is mafia. This has to do with my dad.”
“We don’t know that, either. The Lowlanders . . . most mafia, they don’t do shit like this, Avah. It’s beyond weird.” I lock eyes with her.
What I want to do, need to do, is call Tiz and Diego. But then again, what can they do? I don’t need them here. Jesus, fuck, I’m a grown-ass man. I’ll let them know later. Keeping them in the loop is smart. Making them be part of it is stupid, and not getting me anywhere.
“You went to see them on my behalf, what if . . .”
“Avah, listen to me, okay? I told them we were a thing, they know who I am, and they really didn’t give a shit. As long as I didn’t step on toes and didn’t try and muscle in. That means no De Luca business on their turf. And I haven’t. They run a big, widespread business that serves a great deal of the country. They have outlets and people, and who the fuck knows. This isn’t them.”
But the fucking El Cabeza people?
I can’t see it.
