Page 78 of PortCity Killers

??T W E N T Y S I X??

When I said I was going to enjoy every second of having new, rich datemates, I had not anticipated the hours of girl shit that Valentina and Don both apparently took part in…and enjoyed.

The first hour or so had been fine. Cool, yes, measure me and stuff me in fabric. But after that, my patience for patterns and textures became thinner than the straw I currently sipped my second Miami Vice from courtesy of the very lovely young lady who sat at the front of our current boutique stop.

In hindsight, I doubted I had thought it out very well in the first place. Surely when you had money you would want to spend it?

I stood, legs shoulder width apart, both hands cupping the heavy glass so as not to drop it on the head of the woman currently measuring my inseam. Her cold fingers probed my flesh like the other two seamstresses had at the other two boutiques.

I decided we might get done faster if I quit complaining, seeing as Valentina had a mean streak a mile long. Plus size shopping was not fun in regular big box stores, and it was apparently less fun in boutiques that housed sizes 00-12.

Not that Valentina had even bothered looking at the racks and shelves in any of the stores. She had gone straight for the back rooms, confident in her stride. I guess that happened when you owned the damn island.

So here I was, sipping and shutting up, waiting for my measurements to be finalized and Valentina to dictate to the woman what she thought would best fit my form.

It wouldn’t last long though; I could tell by the way my hips moved side to side, and my toes curled in and out like I had to move the restless energy away somewhere or it would explode out of me.

Don sat back on a half-moon couch, his arms outstretched very much like the first day I had met him. He quirked a lip up, patting his leg, beckoning me to come to him.

I did, with very little hesitation because prior to the Miami Vices it had been a heaping glass of chardonnay, something I wished I knew tasted less like fruit than I thought white wine should have.

Valentina flitted from the dressing room just as I perched myself on Don’s leg. He pulled me further onto his lap, nipping gently at my ear lobe. I squealed, trying to wriggle my body away from him but he shook his head, growling at me playfully.

Playful Don was not someone I thought many people saw, which was confirmed by even Valentina’s surprised look. She cleared it just as quickly as it had come on. Her mischievous smile was back in place, the one that said I would not like what she had to say, but I would do it anyway because it would be silly to argue.

Something I had spent the morning being reminded of over and over and over.

She did a twirl for us, long slender arms outstretched to her sides, “What do you think?”

“Will you both be wearing green?” Don asked, his hands sliding up my thighs.

His fingers dipped between them. His hands were strong, calloused. The veins that flexed under his golden skin held my attention as he spread my thighs. It was completely indecent but utterly thrilling to have his hands on me like this, in front of everyone.

No one looked at us, eyes distracted or downcast unless being directly spoken to by either Valentina or Don.

I’d always been a little invisible in my life, or at least spent it trying to make myself just that, trying to make myself smaller, less of a target, but this was on a whole new level that felt relieving honestly. I was no one and nothing. My actions were inconsequential to these people, and I didn’t have anyone to answer to or for. It was glorious. Being unseen.

Valentina huffed a sigh, “I had planned on it. Why?”

“It seems silly for you both to wear all green. If you’re making the statement, you may as well do it properly,” Don’s breath heated the back of my neck, muffling his words, but per the eye roll she threw at him, I had a feeling Valentina had heard him loud and clear.

I, on the other hand, thought it looked gorgeous on her, so I said as much.

“Thank you, darling,” she winked at me, making the blush creep higher up my neckline.

She came to a stop in front of us, the soft curve of her hip draped in silk. She leaned down, pressing her nails into the soft, fleshy skin of my thigh while Don’s hands hooked under my knees, spreading me wider.

Her lips brushed mine, the taste of strawberry gloss slid against mine as she dragged a finger down the inseam of my shorts. I bucked against Don’s lap, his erection hard under my ass and moaned.

“Don’t think you can distract us that easily, muñequita,” she purred. “You’re up next.”

I groaned, leaning my head back against the pillow of Don’s pecs, “I don’t want to shop anymore.”

Valentina plucked the heavy glass out of my hand, handing it off to some unfortunate lackey before she held her hands out to me. Don’s arms wrapped around my waist, his chin sitting on my shoulder as he looked up at Valentina. She crossed her arms, a scowl fitting beatifically across her lips.

“Don’t you think we’ve dressed our Alex enough today? Dinner will be ready soon, and we still have our surprise for the princess. I think that’s enough for one day, don’t you?”

I watched the smooth, practiced way he handled Valentina with fascination. He was always so collected, so softly spoken and unassuming, letting her have the final say without really giving her a choice in the matter.

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