Page 51 of Filthy Little Games

As soon as the door shuts, he lifts my arms, loops them aroundhis neck, then turns us around. His lips are still on my neck when both of his palms cup my bare ass cheeks underneath the jacket and squeeze. He groans low and loud right next to my ear.

Finally, he lifts my feet off the ground with his grip on my bottom and then sits down on the sofa, gently guiding me down on him so my knees straddle his lap. Bringing his face to mine, he says, “I dreamed about this ass last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’m surprised I didn’t wake up humping a pillow.”

His comment makes me smile.

“Don’t laugh at me. My blue balls are a very serious, very painful condition.”

“Uh-huh. You’re the one who refuses to let me help relieve the ache…”

“Not yet. I need to know you actually want me, that it’s not an act,” he says. “For now, just let me hold your perfect ass for a few minutes, and then I’ll go.”

“Okay.”

There’s a whole lot of information to unpack in his remark. Creed doesn’t think that I want him?

He kisses me again, this time slower. Our tongues tangle as if we have all the time in the world.

“Fuck. If I don’t leave soon, we’ll be late. I’ll send Lorenzo back in. Tell him to call me if you need me.”

Creed lifts me up and sets me down on the sofa. When he stands and starts to walk away, I grab his hand. “Be careful. Even if there’s no proof yet that he was involved in the raid, you shouldn’t trust Emilio.”

The mobster towering above me smiles down and pulls his hand away. “Emilio just wants to bitch. He won’t touch me tonight or any other night.”

And I really hope he’s right.

17

Creed

Ihate having to leave Zara alone at the penthouse, but this meeting is important. And I need to discuss part of my plan with my cousins, even if I can’t tell them the entire truth.

“What’s this shit at Rovinas even about?” Dre asks.

“Izaiah Rovina is missing,” I explain from the front passenger seat of my Maserati SUV as Aldo drives us over to the Rovina estate in Brooklyn.

“And? Why should we give a damn about his nasty ass son going MIA?” Tristan asks.

“It could be connected to Carmine,” I tell them, which is partially true. “And I want to look every family in the eye to see who might be responsible for setting us up.”

“Wait,” Dre replies. “Everyfamily is coming to this dinnertonight?”

“Yes.”

“Did you sign off on that?” Tristan asks.

“No. I didn’t. But I’m going to let it slide this time, since Emilio is a distraught father. We’ll hear him out, see if anyone acts shady, have a nice meal, and then leave. Calm and cool, understood?”

“Yeah, boss. We’ll be cool,” Tristan agrees. “So, about that girl. Zara was it?”

Here we go. “What the fuck about her?”

“Well? Is it serious? Where did you even find her?” Dre asks in a huff.

“Carmine introduced us. And as for whether or not it’s serious.” I glance over my shoulder at their faces in the back seat. “Can I trust you to keep your mouths shut?”

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