Page 156 of Assassin's Obsession

The familiar beat ofCloserbegins to play over the saferoom's speaker system and Candi starts the routine I first saw five nights ago. Twirling around the pole, her gorgeous breasts jiggle more than usual and I realize her bralette isn’t as tight over the fleshy mounds.

Fuck. Me.

This is her putting on a show, like she said. For me.

More sensual and more arousing than anything she ever did at the club, there's a sexual energy aroundmia amatethat is only there when we are alone together.

She does a scissor split on the pole and tosses her head back. "You were the one I was dancing for on Saturday."

"Thank you." She just saved a lot of men's lives saying that and I didn't even realize I was planning their demise. "You're the only one I watch on those stages."

"I know. I could feel it. Your eyes on me. When you were at the club, I only ever danced for you."

We both digest that truth. She is mine and I am hers. The pulse in my cock thrums with the beat of the music.

"It made me wet. Every time. It's making me wet now." She hangs from the poll by her hands, her body on display for me and spreads her thighs into a wide split, revealing a dark patch in the white silk of her thong right over her slit.

Gritting my teeth against the need to touch, my fingers curl into fists.

"Stay where you are, beloved," she orders me. "Remember, it's whatever I say goes right now. It's the least I deserve for making it so easy for you to find me."

"It's the least you deserve for setting this up at all,mia amate." I will never grow tired of hearing her call me beloved.

That she calls me, beloved Death blows my mind.

Her body undulates up the pole that I cannot see. My ephemeral angel, who can float with the heavenly bodies.

When she's near the top, she flips her body back, hanging by her legs only and does a dizzying spin downward, stopping just as her hair brushes the floor.

Gasping, I'm half off the couch and have to force myself to sit back down.

Moving with sinuous grace, she dismounts from the pole and dances toward me. "I want to play another game."

"Whatever you want." The words come out strangled, but she understands them.

"Have you ever played Simon Says?"

"No. I didn't play a lot of games as a child."

"Is that a mafia thing? Or was that ayour parents really suckedthing?" Swooping down, she shakes her tits right in front of my face.

I have to force myself to remember her question and dig through my brain because I'm sure as hell not thinking about my past right now. "Probably a little bit of both."

Her hands land on my shoulders, and she knee walks onto the couch, her thighs spread wide over mine. "You know those kids you say we're going to have some day?"

"Yeah?"

"They're going to play games."

"Whatever you say." With a mom like Candi, their childhood will be amazing.

"In Simon Says, the person who is Simon tells the other players what to do. If Simon doesn't saySimon Says, but you still do the action, you lose the game."

"What if I don't do it?" I ask.

"We keep playing."

"So, we both win," I say gutturally.

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