Page 92 of Lawbreaker

Tony was relaxing a little. “That’s why he works for me.”

“He was something as a wrestler, too. I sort of miss seeing him in the ring.”

“Me, too.”

Hunter chuckled, because Tony and Odalie spoke at the same time and then looked at each other and laughed.

“Don’t tell me. You like wrestling.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “I have an autographed photo of Ben from his wrestling days. My dad took me to Dallas to see a match when I was in school.”

He just stared at her. “Rodeo, wrestling, couture and skeet shooting medals. Miss Everett, you are unique.”

“Very, and kindly look in some other direction,” Tony mused, although his eyes were twinkling.

He shrugged. “No need to worry about me. I’m off women for the next hundred years, at least.” He got to his feet. “If I hear anything else, I’ll let you know. Meanwhile, double-check everybody.”

“You know it.”

They watched him leave. As he had before, Tony dialed a number and related the meeting. He chuckled as he hung up.

“I’m just confirming it,” he told Odalie. “There’s no such thing as privacy in my line of work. I want everybody clued in that I’m no stool pigeon.”

“Well, that’s obvious,” she replied with a smile. “No feathers,” she whispered.

He chuckled.

Nights were getting harder to endure. Odalie hadn’t hungered for a man in her whole life before Tony, because she had no idea what people were talking about when they mentioned passion. But now she did know, and she was starving to death for him.

But they cooked together, watched TV together and then went to bed separately, because Ben was always around. As Tony whispered to her one evening after supper, Ben had ears like a lynx.

However, the abstention was working on Tony as well. One afternoon after they’d gone walking in the park, they ended up at her apartment with the phones turned off and the doors locked while they indulged in several hours of the most intense passion either had ever known.

Tony groaned as he shuddered over her one last time, after a marathon of intimacy that left them both satiated and exhausted.

She sprawled half on his body and half off, shivering in the aftermath.

“It just gets better and better,” she moaned, because every time she moved, it was like a little climax, she was so sensitized.

“And better,” he agreed huskily. His big hand smoothed over her silky skin, pressing her body close on his. “I was starving to death.”

“So was I.” She sighed. “It really is like eating potato chips.”

His hand tangled in her long hair as he fought to calm his heartbeat and his breathing. “And it’s a good thing I’m sterile or you’d probably be very pregnant right now. Then where would your opera career be, Miss Everett?” he teased lightly.

She sighed. Her cheek moved against the soft hair over the hard muscle of his chest. “Babies are sweet,” she said softly. “But I guess you’re right.”

His heart jumped. “You like kids?”

“Yes.” She kissed his chest. “I like opera, too, though,” she added so that he wouldn’t feel that she was chiding him for his lack of fertility.

His eyes were quiet and sad as they studied the ceiling. “I would have loved kids,” he said quietly. “It just wasn’t in the books.”

“Life gives us some things and takes others away. I think it evens out, though.”

“Yeah.”

She yawned. “And now I’m sleepy.”