Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Do you come here often?” I ask, which is an awful line, but this girl doesn’t belong. The Sterling Duck is a mud stain; she’s like clean linen. I want to wrap myself around her and taste every inch of her gorgeous fucking skin. I’m half hard looking at her thighs, and if she moves just a little bit more, I’m going to catch a glimpse of what’s between her legs. That dress was made for a club, not for an Irish mafia bar.
“Not really,” she admits, looking nervous, and for a second I think maybe I was wrong, maybe she’s really not a prostitute. But maybe she’s just good at her job. “My cousin hangs around here, and my uncle used to drink here a lot back in the day, but—” She stops herself and takes a sip of wine.
“I’m going to guess that your cousin won’t be coming here anymore.” I lean closer to her and do my best to maintain eye contact. Otherwise, I’m going to leer at her like an absolute pervert. She shifts a little in her chair and I can’t tell if she’s excited or nervous. Probably both. “The order of things has changed somewhat in this neighborhood.”
“Saul,” Dante chides. He sounds bored. “Don’t be a dick.”
I shrug and tilt my head toward her. “What’s your name?”
“Molly,” she says. I like the way she talks. Her voice is slightly low, almost sultry, but with a pretty girlish lilt. I catch sight of white teeth and a pink tongue. “And what do you mean, the order of things has changed?” She sounds genuinely curious.
“Nothing you need to worry about.” I shift onto the stool separating us. I’m in my element now and on the hunt. I love this moment, the little playful banter, the teasing, the flirting, the uncertainty, all before the kill. Most of the time, this is the best part of any encounter with the opposite sex. The fucking’s fun and all that, but these are the best moments, feeling each other out and doing that little back and forth dance. It’s not something I get into all that often, but every once in a while, I allow myself an indulgence.
She leans back like she’s afraid of being too close to me, but she doesn’t get up. I catch Dante rolling his eyes. He’s not going to stop me though.
It’s been a hard fucking year. I lost my arranged fiancée to my own brother, which wasn’t great, although I did end up getting the better end of that bargain when he gave me his Las Vegas sports gambling operation as compensation. I’m a lot richer now, which is nice, and it turns out that I actually enjoy managing the business, which is just a bonus. But the war against the Irish and the Russians has been heating up, despite the Rinaldo Famiglia joining the fight on our side, and I find myself needing to unwind.
War is stressful. We’re skating under the surface right now, barely keeping out of the national news, but that won’t last forever. The Schuylkill River can handle only so many corpses before they begin to overflow the banks. The Philly PD is already getting pissed, and the more blood we spill, the more aggressive they get about trying to shut us down. Stealing and selling drugs is one thing, but fucking up their murder stats and making the civilians feel unsafe is beyond the pale. The fighting has to stop soon, or else the heat’s coming down hard and everyone will suffer.
This girl is an opportunity. Or at least she’s a fun little distraction for a night. I’m a raw nerve and she looks like sex in high heels—the type of shoes I’d like to make sure she keeps on when I finally get to unwrap her. I think there’s a good chance we can help each other this evening.
“Do you want another drink?” I ask but she shakes her head. Smart girl, don’t get too drunk.
“I don’t plan on staying here long.”
“That’s good. I don’t either.” A little thrill runs into my stomach. I lean closer and pitch my voice lower. A nice, private conversation. I like the way she licks her lips. “Just so you know, I don’t pay for it.”
Her eyes widen and her body stiffens. “Excuse me?”
“I’m just saying, I like you. I think you’re attractive. But I don’t pay for sex.”
“I’m not a prostitute,” she hisses at me.
And based on the way her face turns bright red and she’s leaning away from me like I have an infectious disease, I believe her.
Well, fuck.
I should’ve realized, but she’s dressed like that in a place like this and I just sort of figured—
Well, who the fuck would look so goddamn fuckable in a dive bar filled with slimy douchebags except for girls looking for a job?