Page 72 of The Gangster King
Another life.
Because I will.
It’s inevitable.
When I leave, Dante will lose his mind and turn darker than he already is. He’s just stepped into the role of don and already I see the power overtaking him.
“I’ve always wanted you,” I whisper because it’s not a lie, and I want him to know this much.
His hand slides between my legs, the split high enough that it takes little effort to find my sensitive spots, and he looks pained as he groans.
“Tonight you will sleep in my bed.” He rasps, and my legs wobble on my red heels as his fingers slides through my flesh. “Not as my prisoner, but as the woman I love.”
I gasp as they plunge inside me. His kiss silences the scream that would have followed.
A voice behind us clears its throat, startling us.
“I believe you want to speak to me.” The voice is strong and masculine.
One unfamiliar to me.
Dante freezes and tugs me behind him. “Your timing is fucking terrible.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
DANTE
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Braxton shrugs. “Let’s call it payback for visiting my family with a bunch of oozies from the nineteen fucking seventies.”
Fair enough.
I glance around and can’t believe his presence hasn’t alerted Nick and Jono. Then again, I can barely see the US Marine standing in the shadows.
Adelina is behind me while I grip her wrist.
I’m not happy that he snuck up on us right at that moment. No man would. I was finally getting through to her. I could see the emotion in her eyes. She wants this. She fucking wants this. The frozen walls of her heart were finally melting away.
But we have time, and this is important.
I glare over at Nick, who finally does a double take, curses, then marches over, Jono in tow.
“The fuck!” He growls.
“Step out so they can see you, or they’re gonna shoot you,” I say calmly, tempted to let it happen.
I don’t.
I hold my hand up to slow them.
Braxton takes two steps out, lifting his brow at me, while side-eyeing the boys.
Jesus, the confidence of this asshole!
I’m reminded that he’s fooled me before, so this is no time to let my guard down. He acted like he was one of us, but tonight he doesn’t look like a gangster. Sure, he’s dressed like the rest of us in an expensive penguin suit, but now that he’s standing in front of me, I can see he’s a true-blue American boy.
One of the good guys.