Page 34 of Wedlocked

No woman had ever held my interest for this long. I enjoyed variety and loathed clingy women with long term relationship ambitions. Whores had always been the simplest solution to my needs. They expected nothing beyond giving me pleasure. Even better, I never had to worry about a deliberate pregnancy.

My breath cramped in my lungs. What about Sabrina, was she on birth control?

Fuck. Shit. Hell.

She’d been a virgin. Would she have been that forward thinking? My hands fisted. Most married couples wanted children, but that most definitely wasn’t our future plans. We weren’t a typical husband and wife in that regard. We couldn’t have those kinds of long-term plans.

Sabrina knew the score. Our vows didn’t make us permanent. We’d stay together only for as long as—

I shook off my morbid thoughts. I’d enjoy what time we had together, we both would. I reached for her free hand, the one not presently gripping her clutch bag, and stepped out of the elevator, stopping only to look back at my wife when she slowed. The ribbons of her dress parted with her every step, just barely concealing her feminine secrets beneath.

She bit her bottom lip. “Is this really a good idea?”

“Scared, angel?”

She lifted her chin, her eyes glittering. “I’m a Costa, remember? Nothing scares me.”

I resisted scowling. I hated being reminded that she was my enemy. It made me more determined to make her do what I wanted. “You’re an Agostino now,” I said in a low, uncompromising voice as I led her toward the many gaming tables.

Blackjack. Craps. Roulette. Baccarat. Then there were the spinning wheels, which featured different dollar amounts.

The slot machines had their own floor below this one, much of which could be seen from a cutout in the center of the room, with glass panels and a safety railing surrounding it. Thankfully, much of the ringing, chiming and beeping were kept to a minimum this high up.

I looked at my wife. “What would you like to play first?”

She arched a brow. “Are you saying I have a choice?”

I spread out my arms, and said drily, “I must be feeling magnanimous.”

She tossed her long, platinum ponytail. “Then I best take advantage of your generosity. I’ll take a spin of the big money wheel.”

“Good choice,” I said, walking with her to the wheel that was already spinning around. When it stopped on a big dollar amount, three or four people groaned at their losses, then walked away.

I put down a grand for the croupier to exchange it with chips.

Sabrina smiled when I pushed the chips her way. “You’re lucky I intend to double your money.”

“It’s your money, angel.”

“Is it?” Her smile widened into a grin. “Even better, then.”

She placed half the chips on the 20 dollar symbol on the table in front of us, then leaned back with her hands clasped together under her chin. “I’ve had worse odds than twenty to one.”

The croupier nodded at the tokens then spun the wheel. Sabrina danced on her toes as the pointer clacked through the spikes separating each money segment. I grinned at my wife’s enthusiasm and excitement as she clapped her hands and alternatively wrung them together as the pointer on the wheel slowed.

“Yes!” she screamed, bouncing up and down before turning to me with shining eyes. “We won!” She slapped her hands to her cheeks. “I told you I was going to double your money.”

“And I told you it’s your money, and you more than doubled it. Well done, angel.”

Win or lose, I didn’t really care. There was enough dirty money laundered through my casino that I had more than enough money to burn. I was just happy to see her happy and, for once, not talking about her own death. After so many killings I’d long ago given up on my conscience, but there was something gut-wrenching hearing it from my own wife, someone who I not only fucked, but also greatly admired.

I pushed down on my emotions, ones that threatened to wind tentacles around what was left of my heart and soul. I couldn’t allow myself to go soft. I looked down at my crotch and smirked. No, I was definitely not going soft anytime soon.

If sex was what distracted me from my wife’s imminent death, then so be it. I’d fuck her until my dick had pussy burn along with steam coming off it from all the friction.

She grabbed her many tokens and tipped them into her clutch bag. “Blackjack?” she asked.

I nodded, amused by her exuberance. Damn. Who needed nose candy when being with my wife could leave me on such a high?

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