Page 60 of PortCity Killers

“Bryce isn’t competing in anything.” I insisted, “He’s my boyfriend and that’s not changing.”

“And he will not mind?” Her smile said she wasn’t opposed to fixing that if he was.

“He doesn’t; we aren’t exclusive.”

She raised a brow, as if to say something more, but smiled instead. Her brows smoothed out and the little lines from her frown gentled, “The clothing will come to us then. If you insist on working then Maria and I will come to you.”

“At the bar-?”

“We’ll discuss it more later.”

I looked at Don worriedly, but he managed a smile and a placating gesture. I’d sit back for now, but the two of them running roughshod all over my life was only going to last so long before I blew up, and I would be putting even Valentina’s outbursts to shame.

The server took away plates like the best of them, coming in and out with an ease and quiet that I could envy from my own time at the bar. Before he left, he nodded to Don, who dipped his head back.

As soon as the man left, I looked up to see Don’s eyes absolutely smothered with mischief, “Father has been shown to the sitting room. I’ll be saying my goodbye shortly. But before then...”

My brows furrowed at his knowing look, the one that seemed to say, ‘You better stop me now or I’ll do it.’ What it could possibly be though was beyond me. That was until he threw a flimsy scrap of material onto the middle of the table as he stood.

Valentina’s squeal was ear piercing, her long, graceful fingers snatching the material in her hands before she clapped around it. I let out a gasp of recognition at the cheap thong Don had me throw him in the car.

She clutched the fabric in her hand, delight radiating through her shoulders as she bounced around in her seat. Somehow, she still looked as dignified as ever, while I sunk into my chair, face burning at her enthusiasm.

“I knew our muñequita would give them up.” She purred, her eyes going feral, “Such a good little slut you are, aren’t you?”

I felt the heat lick up my body as surely as I licked at my lips. My gaze caught Valentina’s as I nodded in her direction gently, “Yes.”

She stood. I watched as she rounded the large table. Every breath I took she came a step closer, something akin to fear filled my lungs, but it dripped down to my core as hot, molten lust.

It was like watching a lion prance near you at the zoo. Even though you might have a glass window between you, you still couldn’t help but wonder if it might disappear at any moment. And what it would feel like to have those jaws closing down on your most tender parts.

When she was next to me, she leaned her hip delicately against the table, her eyes smiling brighter than the sun.

“Would you like your reward? For being such a good girl?”

I only hesitated a second, imagining how far the sitting room could be. Did I really want the twins’ parents, their father, to possibly hear me? But my body was thrumming, the pounding rhythm of my blood through my veins took all sense of recklessness and pulled it to the forefront of my brain.

“Yes,” I whispered.

She wasted no time, just shoved the panties in my mouth, gagging. But I took them, even when her fingers slipped down a little too far and touched things no human hands should touch. The wicked gleam in those bright green irises said it was a purposeful move.

I clammed up, my teeth clenching around the lacy fabric, tasting the salty musk left over from my arousal on my tongue. I held in a groan at the familiar taste, but Valentina’s eyes tracked everything. She knew exactly how much I enjoyed it.

“Stand up.” Her smile never wavered but her voice was sickly sweet. It was the same harsh underlying sweetness of the girls that used to cut at the underbelly of my psyche in a different time, a different place, but now I relished in it as it fell from her lips.

The sound still held so much power though, power that made me stand, my eyes darting between her and Don, who had since stood, idly walking to the other side of the table farthest from us.

Valentina pressed me against the flat surface, her bright red lacquered nails a stark contrast on the white linen cloth behind my hip as she pressed the other to my chest, “Lay back.”

I did, shivering against the cold that seemed to seep in through the table cloth. Valentina’s fingers were nimble, quick as she unbuttoned my high waisted shorts. I rested against my elbows, watching, fascinated at the way her nails clicked against the large brass buttons.

Don stood behind me, his head lowering to just barely brush against my ear; or maybe it was the heat of him, I couldn’t tell.

“She’s been talking about tasting you since you left the other day, Princesa.” Don’s breathe was warm against my skin, making me shudder as he spoke, “Did you know that? Valentina rarely obsesses over anything that isn’t herself. You should be flattered.”

“Flattered” seemed a weak word to use. Flattering seemed like a paltry, if not pretty, way to describe the molten fire of her eyes as she shimmied me out of my shorts. Her hands rested on my knees, dragging those red trim nails slowly down my thick thighs.

“Don, what were you doing with her? She’s already soaked.”

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