Page 52 of Choices

"Mychildren," I argue, groaning sleepily. Rico simply chuckles.

I can't help but smile at the sound.

"Wantme to come with you?"

I roll onto my back and shoot him a lopsided grin. I run my hands up both broad, caramel pecs of his chest and around the back of his neck.

"I'd love that."

We get dressed together and the move is so domestic and intimate it shocks me a little. This gangster, mafia jefe, murderer, and yet he pulls on his boxer briefs, jeans, socks, and boots the same as any other white-collar man.

I muse about this for a second longer as I pull on my leggings and sweatshirt.

Rico follows me downstairs where I see Santiago, leaning back against the sofa, arms folded tight across his broad chest, deep frown marring his handsome face. I rush forward, worried something has happened.

"Are you okay? Did everything go okay?"

Santiago throws his hands around animatedly but gets frustrated, I assume not having the signs to communicate yet.

He breaks out his phone, typing furiously.

"When Rico asked me to help, I didn't realize your cat was literally SATAN," the mechanical voice says and I can't help but laugh. Santiago glares at me.

I grab his one arm to inspect the thin, angry scratches Pickles must have left. For some reason the imagine of my big, scary enforcer wrestling an angry cat during his appointment makes me giggle.

I kiss each scratch, gently turning his arm over to kiss the underside before I move to the next arm.

"How did they let you in after you were obviously late for my appointment?" I ask between kisses.

The fight leaves Santiago instantly. He watches me intensely, as if he's never quite seen a woman before. I'm sure I'm crossing a hundred boundaries but fuck it, I feel good and uninhibited.

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement and I fight the urge to drag my tongue over the stubble that's grown there.

Breaking eyes contact, he goes back to his phone. He types. "I can be quite convincing when I need to be."

Smooth fucking line.

"Oh yeah?" I flirt back, smiling up at him and pressing a little closer. I ignore a small growl from Rico. I loved and appreciate the sex and the orgasms, but he's got another thing coming if he thinks that makes us exclusive. "Did you threaten, or flirt with the receptionist?"

Santiago's caramel cheeks pinken. "Threaten."

I step further into him, now fully caged by his legs before I rest a hand on his chest. "Good."

A throat clears behind me. "We're going to be late," Rico says, clearly trying to interrupt anything happening between Santiago and me.

I give Santiago a quick kiss on the cheek, which has his cheeks pinkening further before I let Rico usher me out of the house.

Rico ushers me out of the house with a hand on my lower back. The gesture is warm and caring.

We walk down the front walkway, and the garage doors open and Matty strolls out, wiping his greasy hands with a towel.

"Oh, I love a man that can work with his hands," I coo playfully.

Matty replies with a panty-melting grin.

"Alright, mami. You trying to make me jealous?" Rico growls in my ear as he opens the passenger door for me.

"No. But I kind of love that you are." I say, throwing him a giggle and a grin as he shuts my door and rounds the front of the SUV.