Page 49 of The Fox

A broad stroke of my tongue against her pink flesh, a nip of her clit, and a caress against her G-spot have her back arching.

The shattering of Amelia Conte is one that will never cease to amaze me. I am a man obsessed. She explodes, drenching me with her orgasm, and I keep massaging her. I want another from her.

“Rhodes, I can’t.”

“You will, pretty girl. I don’t settle for anything less than what you deserve.”

I quicken my fingers, sliding them in and out at a punishing pace. Her hips flex, and she comes once more, softer this time but just as breathtaking.

I take my shirt from the floor and clean her up as best I can, reaching for her hands once I am finished. We both sit against the couch, and her head falls to my shoulders. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, mindful of her still-healing injuries, and pull her into me. She nestles into me, and I smile. “How do you feel, Amelia?” There is something murmured into my chest, and I pull her head back slightly, my eyebrow cocked in a silent request. She sighs contentedly.

“I feel good. Slightly gooey but so cozy. You are so comfy, Ro.” Her voice tapers off, and I know I need to move us so she can fall asleep. The high from her orgasm is starting to seep into her bones. I know it isn’t long before she drops into that state of bliss and wants to snuggle.

I need to get her into the bath, into a new set of clothes, and into bed. I stand, picking her up and cradling her to my bare chest. Her hand runs along my chest, finding the tattoo on my left pectoral. It is my callsign insignia, the delicate touch of her hand is a contrast to the memory attached to the ink buried in my skin. She’s seen it before in our video chats but this is the first time Amelia has been able to admire it in person.

Her face lifts, a question dancing in her heavily lidded eyes, and I give her a kiss on her forehead.

“Let’s get you in the bath,kochanie. Perhaps a snuggle or two after?” She hums in response, and I know we’ll both be sleeping soundly tonight.

CHAPTER 33

Amelia---Decisions

My alarm goes off, and I scramble to find it. I am wrapped in several blankets. There is a warm arm draped around my middle, and it tightens when I attempt to sit up. A grumble comes from behind me, making a smile break out across my lips. Rhodes slept in the same bed as me last night.

I let him sleep in my bed.

I remove myself from his grip and stand, stretching my body and groaning when my muscles protest. I had been cleared for work yesterday and today is my first day back at the office. I still don’t have complete recovery in my hands, and I am still slower off the mark, but considering the state I had been in? I will take it.

I make my way to the closet, grinning at the way Rhodes has integrated himself into my home; his shirts now hang beside mine, those worn Bludstones rest next to my shoes. It was an easy decision, asking him to move in with me. He spends all of his time here anyway, and I love having him here. I can’t explain it, but Rhodes feels like home to me now, not these walls. My eyes peruse the options before me, and I feel the way my body is tense. There are waves of anxiety rippling through me. The only thing I can do is to keep pushing forward.

I need to dress this morning in harsh lines and sleekness; there is no room for leather or softness or comfort today. I need to drape my body in a way that keeps the world out. After months of healing, I have to don my armor once more because if I continue to hide, nothing changes. I choose a pair of black and cream pinstripe pants with a tapered leg, pairing it with a deep maroon blouse. This is my favorite shirt. It is sleek but has bishop sleeves in a slightly darker color chiffon.

Slipping both over a matching bra and panty set, I move to the shelves holding my heels, trying to decide which pair fits the day. My body aches, and I ignore it. I had planned to wear my Jimmy Choo Cass 95s, but my eyes pause on a glittering pair I’ve never worn.

Maison Christian Louboutin Kate Strass pumps, size 38.

A masterclass in beauty, the pumps are over four inches tall and absolutely covered in crystals. The way the light reflects off each shoe was what initially pulled my eye when I purchased them, but there is a small part of me that is saving them for if I ever get married.

I scoff at the thought. These shoes will never see the light of day.

I grab my Cass 95s, walking back out to the bed. Rhodes sits against the headboard, and his eyes roam my body. I let his gaze linger. There are still parts of me I’ve kept hidden, and I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe enough to let him see them.

“You look damn good,kochanie.” His voice is rough from the gravel in his throat. “Come here and give me a kiss, pretty girl.”

I duck my head, padding softly toward him, my pale pink heels still hooked on my fingers. He grins as my mouth meets his, our lips dancing in harmony. He places one hand on the back of my head, holding me there as he deepens the kiss and I moan.Gods. This man.

Chuckling, he pulls back and runs his hand over my cheek. “Where are you headed?” I pull away from him and sit on the edge of the bed, putting my pumps on my feet, flexing at the way they feel. It has been a minute since I’ve worn them and I am grateful for the pair of flats I keep in my glovebox.

“I have to go to the office today. Duncan said that there are several matters that need my attention.” I sigh. “He’s right, Rhodes. I can’t keep sitting here while I have an Outfit to run. I have to go back at some point.” His eyes are full of concern, and while I know he worries, the reality is that I have been cleared to resume normal activity. The Mafia doesn’t stop its dealings just because shit happens.

I stand, putting my weight into the pale pink heels and taking a few steps, measuring my ability to walk in them.It’ll do.I spin around, grinning as I see the tenting of the rich green sheets gathered around Rhodes’ legs. It is the confidence boost I hadn’t realized I needed and I walk out of the room, Rhodes’ deep laughter behind me.

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“Medina made contact.” My head whips up at Duncan’s statement, a flood of confusion hitting me. I lick my lips as my Underboss takes a seat before me.

“What do you mean, ‘made contact’?”

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