Page 29 of Tainted Princess
A discerning man, Rock.
I shook my head as I moved to my own desk, unzipping my riding jacket and tossing it on the couch that separated our respective workspaces. I tried to ignore the sounds the woman made with each one of Rock’s thrusts, opening my computer and attempting to focus on catching up, but with every wet moan, my brain flashed back to last night, Francesca bent over the hotel room bed, her lacy underwear tugged to the side as I fucked into her, making her a woman.
Making her mine.
Fuck. I shook that thought off as I blocked out what was happening on the other side of the room, focused on the emails in front of me. Finally, there was a groan, a giggle, and a slap on the ass as the woman was ushered out of the office. Rocco moved to the couch, his pants up but still undone, as he lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.
“Didn’t expect to see you here for a few more days,” he said, his smile telling me he was about to give me shit. “I figured you would be balls deep in the honeymoon phase right now. Enjoying all that wedded bliss.”
“Funny,” I said, opening a cabinet behind me and retrieving a bottle of tequila and two glasses. I poured us each a drink and settled back in my chair.
“Seriously though, Enzo,” Rock said, holding the glass under his nose and taking a whiff. “How did things go in New York?”
“Exactly as I planned,” I said, smiling a little when his grin split his face. “You’re looking at the newestCapoof the De Marco Crime Family.”
“Fuck, yes!” He held up his glass and we toasted my achievement. “This is big, man. Huge. This is gonna open so many doors for you.”
“For us, Rock. You and I are partners. Whatever I get, you’ll share in. That’s how it’s always worked, and this isn’t gonna change shit between us.”
Rocco looked at me, ready to reply, but stopped when the door opened and Amber sauntered in, dressed to kill in a skimpy red number that looked like she’d sewn herself into it. Short as fuck, the dress left very little to the imagination, and Amber worked that to her advantage, knowing that she had the attention of every man in the room when she walked in.
“Hey, baby,” she cooed, heading my way. Rocco’s eyebrows went up, but he said nothing, instead leaning back on the couch and just watching, the prick. “I didn’t know you were back already. I hadn’t heard from you, but Rocco said you had some family stuff come up with your dad in New York.” She slithered herself between my chair and the desk, resting her ass against the edge and leaning back, giving me a hint of her barely-there panties. “Everything go okay?”
I knew what she wanted. It was what she always wanted.
My dick.
Normally, I’d be more than happy to give it to her. It would be so easy to just put my hand on her chest and push her back, slide her pathetic excuse for underwear out of the way and sink inside like I had a hundred times before.
But for some reason, I couldn’t even make myself touch her. I raised my glass and took a slow sip, Amber blinking as I used my feet to push my chair farther away, putting more space between us.
She frowned, but recovered quickly, her smile back in place like it had never left. “Why don’t you pour me a glass and you can tell me all about your trip? Did anything exciting happen?”
Rocco coughed, choking on his drink, and I shot him a filthy look. I hadn’t even thought of what I was supposed to say to Amber about the fact that I was married now. She understood we weren’t a couple, but I just knew she would make a big deal out of it. Chicks always did.
That presented me with another question: what exactly did Francesca expect from me? I mean, I was her husband, but this wasn’t exactly a fuckin’ Hallmark movie. There were no romantic dates and declarations of love in this arrangement.
But, still, I was gonna have to share a bed with her tonight, and the thought of doing that with another woman’s scent on me turned my stomach.
I was trying to find something to say that would fill her in without costing me my operations manager when my cell rang in my pocket. Grateful for the excuse to put off the conversation for another minute, I paused when I sawVeer Towerson the call display. Why would someone from my apartment building be calling me?
Then, like a moron, it hit me.
Francesca.
“Hello?”
“Ah, yes. Mr. Argenti?” a hesitant voice asked.
“Yes,” I snapped. Get on with it, buddy.
“Right. This is Arnold, with Veer Towers Concierge. There is a woman here who is attempting to enter your apartment, but she has no key. She claims to live there, but we have no record of her on your files.”
Shit. This was my fault. I was so busy fleeing my feelings this morning that I had just basically abandoned Francesca in the apartment. I hadn’t given her a key or anything. Fuck, was there even any food in the place?
And Istilldidn’t have her goddamn phone number.
I took a deep breath and ran my hand down my face. “Yeah, Arnold. It’s fine. You can let her in. I’ll be right there. Thank you for the call.”
