I’m sitting on my deck grilling chicken for dinner and sipping on a beer while I listen in envy as Manny tells me about the M-24 sniper weapons he lifted from a fucking pawn shop, of all places.
“Shit. You better not get your ass caught. You driving them to New York?” I ask, flipping the chicken.
I stick my phone between my chin and shoulder to free my hands and listen as Manny scoffs at the thought that he would ever be that stupid. I close the grill and take a long pull of my beer, catching sight of Calla in the kitchen doing her thing. I watch her thoughtfully for a moment.
“You know, Calla told me earlier her dad would help get us out of here. We should come with.”
The more I think about what she said today, the more I want to get the hell out of here. We’d be safer at Salvatore’s house than anywhere else.
“Tomorrow it is, then. I’ll call John. You know his ass will want to come. Cecily, too. All right, buddy. Watch your back. Later.”
I hang up and call John. We talk for a few minutes about tomorrow. My instincts were right. He wants to come with us, which is fine by me. I’m sure Calla will love having time with both of her parents, as well as getting to know Salvatore better. He can talk to her while she’s there.
You wouldn’t think we would need protection from someone as dumb as Emerald, but the truth is, she isn’t dumb at all. She’s played me for a damn fool. I don’t trust her or whoever it is she is working with not to somehow follow us.
I toss my phone onto the small table by the door and walk into the house, stopping dead in my tracks when I see Calla standing at the stove naked, stirring whatever she’s making with one hand while texting someone with the other from the phone I returned to her the other day. I have the notion to both slap her ass and claim it at the same time.
“Are you my dessert?”
She jumps, the wooden spoon and phone falling from her hands onto the floor.
“God, you ass! You scared me!” she shrieks, placing her hand over her heart.
“Sorry, not sorry, babe.”
She bends down, her plump ass going up in the air, right along with my rigid cock.
There’s my dinner right there. No way am I eating this chicken, not when I have the damn gourmet special staring me in the face.
Slipping back through the slider, I cut off the grill. Let it burn; I don’t care. That ass is mine!
“Stop!” she laughs when my arms come around her and my hands palm her naked breasts.
“Put the spoon down.”
“No, I’m starving. And I’m talking to Mrs. Henry. She has all my things packed up. Dad’s going to get them tonight.”
“Give me the spoon. And say thank you to Mrs. Henry.”
Fuck. I’m so damn turned on I don’t even recognize my own voice. I’ve never had the desire to fuck someone’s ass before. Hell, I’ve never had the desire to screw anyone but her, ever. The other women were completely erased from my mind the minute I laid eyes on her again.
I press my dick into her backside and she gasps.
“Oh!”
“‘Oh’ is right. Why are you naked?”
She places the phone and the spoon down on the counter, then reaches for the knob on the stove and turns it off. I squeeze her breasts one more time and swipe my hand up her neck, pushing her hair off to the side to kiss her sweet spot.
“I’m hot,” she says finally.
“I agree,” I say mischievously, making her gasp again when I pinch her nipple. “So tell me the real reason why you’re standing in the kitchen naked?”
“I want you.”
Thank Christ the window in the kitchen is high enough that no one can see her. She’s just as sinful as I am. This playfulness is the way it should be, doing whatever we want to each other whenever we want. I lightly bite into her neck.
“I want your ass. Do you trust me?”
“I do. I mean, I trust you, but I guess I’ve never thought about doing that before.”