Page 79 of Working for the Mob

“What are you doing?” Genevieve asked, and I shut the door behind us. “I usually assume that you’re going to kill me, but I think we’re past that point in our relationship.”

I turned to her.

“I really should be helping Lucy. We only have twenty minutes until the café reopens,” she said.

“I don’t care about the café right now. I care aboutyou,” I said, as loud as I could without letting Lucy know we were here. “Those men back there in West Lannington, they aredangerous,Genevieve. Dangerous with a capital D. They could order a hit on you without blinking an eye.”

“I know,” she said, defensively.

“No, you don’t,” I said. I stepped closer to her. Close enough to smell her perfume mingled with sweat. The pheromones sent my heart racing. “You’ve never been around men like that. Men that are above the law …”

“You mean men like you,” Genevieve asked, and crossed her arms. Her arms lifted her breasts in the act, defining their shape. My pants stiffened.

I wanted to throw the question back in her face and tell her that she needed to take the conversation seriously. Almost as much as I wanted to take her right here.

“Yes,” I said, at last. “They are men like me.”

Genevieve raised an eyebrow.

“Why is it okay for me to be around you, but not them?”

“It’s not.”

“What?” she asked, surprised.

“It’s not safe to be around me. You’re right,” I said, and I let the words sink in. “But I’d rather you be around me than around them.”

“I would too,” she said, and stared back at me with her clear blue eyes. Her eyes drifted down to my lips and then noticed the bulge in my pants. She gulped.

“I should be getting back to Lucy,” she said, without any conviction.

“Yes, you should,” I said, and leaned in, and something inside me snapped. All the excitement from the butcher’s rushed back. The realization of how dangerous what she just did clicked, and I suddenly craved her. I don’t know if I needed to know she was safe or needed the life-affirming rush of her touch. But, instead of kissing her, I lifted her on top of a waist-high shelf, sending cans flying to the floor. She straddled me as I attacked her neck with my mouth.

“Art!”

I hiked her skirt to her waist and froze. Her garter, nude silk stockings, and Oxfords were the only things underneath.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” I said, perplexed.

“I haven’t worn any since the last time,” she whispered, and my cock pulsed at the invitation.

She nibbled at my neck while I unbuttoned her blouse. Careful with the buttons this time, I stopped halfway down. I yanked her bra up to uncover her bare bosoms, already erect and pleading for attention.

Her irresistible scent drove me to her breast. I caressed her areola with my tongue and the taste of Genevieve engulfed my brain. This is who Genevieve is and I had her all to myself.

I moved my hand further south, tickling down to her lips. Just as she came prepared with no underwear, I could tell she was prepared for this as well; my fingers slid in easily, and I was awarded with a sharp gasp.

Her fingers fumbled at my belt until the two of us snagged it above my knees, releasing my pulsating dick. The fact that it stayed this hard in the cold stockroom was a testament to how much I wanted her.

With her hand, she clenched it with a sly smile, and I let out a sharp intake of breath. My cock begged for the wet warmth Genevieve could provide.

I propped her up and eased her onto my head. I could’ve lost her the Saturday after Jamie’s party, and I could’ve lost her in the butcher’s shop. But here I had her undermyprotection. She was safe as long as I was inside her.

I hugged her closer––I needed to lose myself in her. I reached my arms behind her back, grabbed her shoulders, and pulled her down, propelling myself into her.

“Art!” she cried, and gyrated on top of me, tormenting me. “Goodness, that’s deep.”

With my forearms gripping her torso, I had control over her body. I lifted her up and plunged her back down. Up and down. She hugged my head and buried my face into her breasts.

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