Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Angelo
There’s a soft knock, rousing me from sleep. “Boss,” Maks calls through the door.
“No rest for the weary.” Remi’s lying on her side, watching me. She runs her nails through my beard, a naughty glint in those pretty hazel eyes of hers.
“No rest for the wicked. What have you stolen now?” I muse, grabbing her hand by the wrist and bringing it to my mouth. A kiss for each of her thieving fingers.
“How could I steal anything? You’re naked?—”
“And you’re not,” I say, using my free hand to rid her of those pajama shorts and panties in one fell swoop. Working on the buttons of her pajama top, I call to Maks, “ Si tratta di un’emergenza ?"
“ Ma mi hai detto di avvisarti quando avremo accesso al telefono di Bennett. ”
“ Dammi dieci minuti ,” I call through the door.
Ten minutes is nowhere near what I need to pay tribute to Remi’s body, but I’ll take what I can get.
Undoing the last button, I part Remi’s top, revealing her luscious breasts. Her body arches as I duck my head and capture a pebbled nipple in my mouth.
“Mmm.” Her nails rake my scalp as I move to the other breast, lavishing it with the same devotion.
“I don’t have much time.” I kiss one nipple, then the other. “So come sit on my face.” My command surprises me; I’ve never given a woman full control.
“What?” Remi gasps.
I roll onto my back and pat my shoulders. “Climb on.”
She chews nervously on her bottom lip. “How?”
“One knee on either side of my head, and sit facing the headboard,” I instruct her.
“Like literally on your face? This is new to me,” she whispers, a blush creeping up her neck.
My cock swells with the knowledge that no man has ever eaten Remi’s pussy like I’m about to. Again, I don’t know if I should kill Ellis or thank him. “Like literally on my face.”
“But how will you breathe?” She tentatively positions herself over me, seated high on her knees.
I inhale deeply, the sweet smell of her pussy driving me wild. “I’ll breathe just fine.”
“But—”
Remi squeals as I grab her hips and slam her pussy to my mouth. “Oh, fuck.” She moans as my tongue kisses her clit, the sound going straight to my aching cock.
Why did I think ten minutes would suffice? I need a week with this woman naked in my bed.
Like a man starving, I devour her pussy. She’s so soft and hot and fucking delicious.
How will I breathe?
Pulling her closer, I don’t know, nor do I care.
“Angelo.” My name on her lips, her pussy on mine, I’m afraid I’ll come without my cock being inside her.
Lifting her hips to where I can speak, I tell her, “Hold onto the headboard and ride my face.”
She moves her hands to the headboard and begins swaying her hips back and forth. “Oh, yes, Angelo.”
“That’s it, Remi. Grind on me,” I say against her swelling clit, the sound lost to her pleasure. God, she’s so wet it’s dripping down my neck.
Rolling her hips over and over, I move my tongue just to the side of her clit. Having found her sweet spot the first time I ate her pussy, I lick it relentlessly until she’s worked into a frenzy.
“Angelo, oh my God.” She grinds harder, her head falling back on a scream as she comes.
Not stopping until I’ve wrung every last drop of pleasure, I pull her limp body off my face and into my arms.
“Mmm,” she sighs contentedly with her eyes closed.
I kiss the tip of her nose.
Her eyes open lazily, but they go wide. “Oh my God, you are drenched.” She takes in her pussy juice dripping from my lips, down my jaw, and in my beard.
“So fucking good.” My chest bubbles with pride as I bring my lips to hers. Thrusting my tongue inside her mouth, I wrap mine around hers, letting her get a taste of herself. A taste of heaven.
The intercom phone rings, the shrill tone putting a damper on the moment. Sighing impatiently, I break the kiss and reach for the phone. “Yes?”
“Mr. Calvani, Nic has returned.”
“Send him to the study.”
Hanging up, I steal one more kiss from Remi before rolling out of bed. I grab my boxers, yanking them up and over my throbbing cock.
“You seem to have a problem.” She eyes my erection with amusement.
“Many, at the moment, but you making my cock hard isn’t one of them.” I quickly dress, leaning over and giving her one last kiss. “Rest.”
Remi stretches her arms over her head with a satiated smile. “Any more rest, and I’ll turn into a vegetable.”
“Press 1 on the intercom for the kitchen; Corinne will bring you whatever you’d like to eat. I don’t know how long my business will take.”
“Uh-huh. You’re not going to cut me out.” She flings off the covers and crawls out of bed, her naked body doing nothing to help my cock settle down. “I’m in charge of this operation. Those were the terms.”
“I’m changing the terms,” I inform her.
“I was able to get the mayor’s phone once; I know I can get it again,” she argues.
“A phone that’s at the bottom of the river?” I point out.
“If you lost your phone, you’d have another in your hands in minutes. Same thing with the mayor. Plus, wouldn’t all of his stuff be backed up on a cloud or something?”
Valid point, but I shake my head. “The cost is too high.”
“What’s another fifty grand to you?” Remi counters.
“I’m talking about your fucking life, and how you almost lost it!” I thunder.
She crosses the room, standing toe to toe with me. “You were arrested, and I’m guessing the heat’s still on you.”
Exercising my Fifth Amendment right, I remain silent.
“And you need whatever blackmail leverage is on that phone.”
My hand wraps around her throat, and I pull her close to where we’re sharing the same breath. “Put some clothes on so I don’t have to kill every man in this house.”
I spin on my heel, stalking out.
Remi’s right, and I hate that she’s right. I could go to the mayor with my tail between my legs, but the man would own me, and I’m not too keen on being owned. The little pickpocket’s doing a bang-up job of that all by herself.
Joining Nic in the study, I pour myself an espresso from the carafe before taking a seat across from him. After a much needed sip, I say, “Is it done?”
“Yes, boss, the hit’s been called in. It doesn’t sit right, though.” He rubs the back of his neck.
“Not your decision to make,” I say dismissively.
“Aunt Stella would not be happy, God rest her soul.” He makes a sign of the cross before handing me an envelope of this week’s kickups.
“Let me worry about my mama.” I count out the money before pocketing the envelope.
“Guarantee I’m not the only one who thinks this,” he warns. “The capos aren’t going to take the news well.”
“I don’t give a shit how they take the news. I’m the boss of this family until I say otherwise!” Only when the words are out do I realize whose words I’m parroting.
Who am I?
Vitto Calvani, whether I like it or not.
For the record, I don’t.
Remi
I go in search of Angelo, but run into Maks first. “This way,” he tells me, and I follow him outside to the back patio.
Looking around, I don’t see his boss.
Oh, God, the mere sight of the pool has me breaking out into cold sweats. “Where is Angelo?”
“Inside.”
“Then why did you tell me to come outside?” I say, fear licking up my spine.
“Your safety is my boss’s top priority.” And then he shoves me into the pool.
“Ahhh!” I cry, sailing into the water.
My nose burning, I kick and work my arms, my head surfacing. I cough, water in my eyes, my hair matted to my head.
“What the hell, Maks!” Alessandra appears.
“She has to be safe in the water. We tried your coddling approach. It did not work,” he says matter-of-factly. “Now we try mine.”
“At least give her some time to recover from nearly drowning!”
“No,” he says dismissively. “Like riding a horse; you fall off, get right back on. You are sinking like a fucking stone,” he barks at me.
“She has a tendency to do that,” Alessandra agrees.
“Help!” I flail about in the water.
“Are you seriously going to drown my brother’s girlfriend?”
“No. I am teaching her to swim.”
“By drowning?” Alessandra challenges.
“Will somebody fucking help me?” I shriek.
Maks gracefully dives head first into the deep end, the splash drenching me in the face.
With a frustrated squeal, I splash water in his direction, the effort nearly causing me to fall under.
Unfazed, he swims circles around me.
“Now that you’ve wasted most of your energy, what are you going to do? The ladder is over there; you’re over here.”
I frantically tread water, but he’s right. I don’t have much energy left, even if I knew how to swim. Which I still don’t.
“The Mississippi River, bank to bank, is one and a half miles wide. One and a half miles, either direction, would have gotten you to dry land. When I’m finished with you, you will not only be capable of swimming one and a half miles, you will be proficient,” he promises.
“She doesn’t need your extreme military training,” Alessandra argues.
“Her near-drowning says otherwise,” Maks counters.
While the two of them go back and forth, I’m over here fighting for my life. My arms fail, and my head begins to drop under the water. “Help,” I gurgle.
Maks’ arms band around me, and he swims me to the ladder. My hands grip it so hard my knuckles blanch as I pull myself out. Turning around, I go to kick him in the face, but he easily ducks.
“Channel that anger into conquering your fear. Our training starts this afternoon,” he informs me. “For now, sit down and play the blocks game. Twenty minutes.”
I look at Alessandra for support, but she holds up her hands. “Maybe we should try it his way.”
“I’m not playing your weirdo games, Maks, until you tell me why.”
“Have you been having flashbacks of drowning? Nightmares? Panic attacks?”
“No,” I say hesitantly.
“Then that’s why. Fitting the blocks into rows uses your brain’s visuospatial processing system.”
“My brain’s what?” My forehead bunches.
“You’re taking up brain space with this game instead of forming visual PTSD memories,” he translates.
“You had PTSD?” I wonder.
“Play.”
Huffing, I take a seat and hit play. Focusing on the game, it is pretty satisfying when I get a huge row and the blocks disappear. Before I know it, the timer is going off.
Tossing the game on the lounge chair, I call to Maks, “You still suck.”
“Your swim lessons are still this afternoon,” he calls back.
I stomp into the house, finding Nola, who’s perched on the top of the refrigerator. “Why am I wet in these clothes? Maks, that’s why. Go claw his eyes out,” I tell her.
With bored indifference, she looks at me before swiping the treat jar with her paw. It goes flying from the top of the fridge, the jar shattering on the kitchen floor.
She hops down, nibbling a treat.
“So that’s why you were up there. I would’ve given you a treat; you didn’t have to be a menace.”
“That bobcat still out there?” Corinne calls from the pantry.
“She’s not a bobcat.” I sigh.