Page 55 of City of Wind and Lies

They are heavy, and they keep getting heavier. I swear Wren’s boobs get bigger every day, and I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t love it. Sinking my teeth into my lower lip, I close my eyes, picturing her on our bed playing with herself, and fuck me, I can feel my balls already starting to tighten. I flex my grip, alternating the pressure with each stroke, rolling and tugging on the piercings as I go.

"Pinch your nipple, baby. Pinch it as you shove two fingers inside that pretty cunt," I instruct.

She gasps, breathing out a little sigh after, but I know she can do better.

"Harder, Passerotta. Pinch it really hard like I would and add another finger," I growl.

"I-I don't know Bowie. It's not the same."

"Be a good girl for me. I've got a meeting to get back to and I can't sit through it with a hard on."

"Okay," she says breathlessly before I hear her whimper in pleasure.

"Good girl,” I praise. “Now ride those fingers like they’re my dick."

Her soft moans grow louder, small cries interrupting them as I stroke myself faster. "Oh yeah, baby. Fuck yourself, my dirty girl. I'm going to fuck you so hard tonight..." My breathing grows ragged, heat prickling at the base of my spine as my balls draw up. "I'm gonna come. Think you can come with me?"

"Yes. Oh yes!" she cries out in pleasure.

"That’s my girl," I murmur, my leg seizing, muscles twitching as hot cum spurts out, coating my fingers and dripping down into the toilet.

Our heavy breaths fill the line between us before we say goodbye. As much as I don't want to, I really need to get back out to my clients. As I clean myself up, I can’t help but think about the cute way her skin flushes when she climaxes and the easy smile that’s probably spread across her face as she’s coming down from her orgasm right now.

Tucking my softening cock away, I fix my pants and wash my hands, making my way back to the dining area. I apologize to the gentleman, muttering an excuse as the waitstaff bring out our food. The conversation shifts to business, and thankfully this is just a check-in meeting, because in my blitzed-out haze, my mind keeps wandering back to Wren.

I'm starting to see what Rocco meant about not having to wear a mask and being able to be yourself around your woman. We're doing everything so out of order, but she just goes with it and it’s all coming so easily. She doesn't make demands of me, want to spend my money, or whine in an irritating voice that makes my balls recede. Instead, she makes me do crazy shit, like leave a meeting to jack myself off in the bathroom, or watch chick flicks and trip over my words like a thirteen-year-old boy when I asked her to be my girlfriend. There’s a small flutter in my chest, and I hope that when I do tell her everything, it doesn’t change any of this.

The lunch meeting concludes with hand shakes, the guys all happy with their portfolio's growth. I'm happy they're happy. Keeping Vento Ventures growing will only aid in my ability to cease the drug side of business. After this morning's events, I've got Rocco setting up a meeting with the Volkov’s in New York.

I wave as their rideshare takes off down Michigan Avenue and start the two-block walk back towards Vento's office. The crossing light flashes, and the Friday afternoon bustle of the Magnificent Mile shuffles across the street. I hit the button for my floor in the elevator, pull my phone back out, and switch off Do Not Disturb mode. Thirteen voicemails are waiting for me- not too bad- and I scan through them, eyes stopping on the one I've been waiting for.

New Voicemail - Doctor Marino

Taking a deep breath, I hit play, his heavy Italian lilt filling my ear and my stomach swooping at his words. I fire off a text to Wren as I cross the lobby to my office, tucking away my phone and anxiety in the process.

19

Itug at the deep V-cut neckline of the black bodycon dress Drea brought over, turning my back to the full-length mirror in Bowie’s closet to face her. “I can't wear this, I'm one sneeze away from a nip slip.”

Drea rolls her eyes, pulling her leg up beneath her as she sits on the chair in the corner. “Shove it, you look hot as fuck. My little B cups are SO jealous that yours keep getting bigger.”

"I'm serious," I whine, bending at the waist to sift through the pile of dresses she brought over again. "Nothing feels like it fits right."

"Babe." She tilts her head to the side and cocks an eyebrow. "When was the last time you wore anything besides leggings?"

Folding my arms across my chest as I straighten, I roll my lip between my teeth and narrow my eyes at her. "Two weeks ago," I admit.

"Ha!" She barks a laugh. "Trust. You look every bit a stunner in that dress."

"Fine." I heave a sigh, slapping my hands down at my sides. "I'll wear it."

"Where's he taking you, anyways?" she asks, toying with the end of her braid.

"He didn't say," I shrug, twisting back around to face the mirror. "Just said he was taking me out for dinner tonight and that panties were forbidden."

"That's got to be a good thing then, right?" She waggles her brows as she presses to her feet, coming to stand behind me and taking the liberty of twirling my hair into a low bun.

"Maybe?" I tug a few strands out by my face, testing the hairstyle with the dress. "Or he just feels bad that I literally haven't left this apartment since I came home from the hospital."

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