Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“You feel so fucking good, Ms. Bellandi,” he says gently, voice shaking. “Can I ask for one more favor?”
“You want more? Aren’t you getting greedy now, Mr. Maguire?”
His grip on my ass tightens. “You don’t know how greedy I can be, Ms. Bellandi.”
“What do you want?”
“Three pictures from your folder. Three and no more.”
“You don’t want them all?”
“Fuck,” he moans. “If I keep more, I’ll spend the rest of my life beating my cock to a pulp. I have work to do, Ms. Bellandi. I can’t afford a distraction like you.”
“Then three is acceptable, Mr. Maguire.”
He slips out and moves away. I turn, flushed, happy, still floating from the orgasm. He stands in front of me like a god, tattooed and beautiful, more man than I’ve ever seen. His cock’s still half hard and it’s enormous, swollen and lovely. I have the impulse to kiss the tip, but I don’t. Instead, I shimmy my panties back into place and start getting dressed.
“You don’t have to worry,” he says, doing the same.
“It’s fine. You said we have an hour. How long was that?”
“I lost track,” he admits, checking his watch. It’s a shiny silver Rolex. “Damn.”
“I should get going.”
He adjusts his shirt and buttons it. “You don’t have to.”
“Really, it’s fine. This was—“ I don’t even know how to describe it. Insane? Reckless? Incredible? I walk over and kiss him on the cheek. “Keep the pictures if you want. I don’t care.”
“Only three.” His hand presses to the small of my back. “I won’t ask for more.”
I hear the implication. There won’t be a second round.
And strangely, that’s okay with me.
It’s ideal.
This man’s all wrong. Everything about him screams danger. Nadia’s right: he’s shady as hell in ways I’m not sure I’m ready to understand.
And while I can be his filthy angel for an hour, that’s not who I am, not really.
I pull on my pants, tug on my undershirt, and slip into my frumpy sweater.
I’m boring, good-girl Angie, and always will be.
“How do I look?” I ask, pulling my hair back into position.
His gaze is longing. He tears it away, back to the laptop. “You look perfect, Ms. Bellandi.”
“Then I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, Mr. Maguire.”
“Oh, and Ms. Bellandi? One more thing.”
I unsnap the lock on his door and look back. “Yes, sir?”
He shivers at that.
“No more dirty pictures in my office.”
I do my best not to smile. “Yes, sir. I’ll do my best.”
3
CONNOR
“Why do you keep looking at the door?” Marcus cranes his neck with a grunt. He glares back at me, head cocked to the side. “Have you heard anything I’ve been saying?”
“I always hang on every word, you know that.” I lean back in my chair and sip from my glass of bourbon, trying very hard not to stare over Marcus’s shoulder like I have been for the last half hour of this so-called strategy meeting.
My best friend scowls but decides to let it go. He snaps shut his portfolio and goes to pour himself a drink. That’s Marcus: no fun until the work’s all done. It’s what makes him annoying but a fantastic top lieutenant.
“Then you’re on board? We expand the real estate holdings? I’m telling you, Connor, those apartments are going to be profitable. That whole neighborhood’s gentrifying.”
“They’ve been saying Bushwick’s turning over forever. I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“If you’d look at the numbers—“ He taps his glass against the edge of my desk. “Connor? You fucking kidding me, bro?”
I grimace and force my eyes off the goddamn door.
She’s not going to walk through it.
“Leave the papers with me. Nothing digital.”
“You realize this is an actual investment, right? Nothing illegal?”
“Doesn’t matter. Can’t hurt to be paranoid.”
Marcus laughs at that and throws back his drink. He’ll be satisfied for a few days, at least until he decides I’ve had enough time to make up my mind, then he’ll be back in here jamming his ideas down my throat. Which is fine, I can handle him, and I need men like him pushing the family into the future. That’s how I’ve managed to take the Maguire crew, barely more than a smattering of car thieves and burglars, and turn it into one of the largest and most thriving families in New York.
There’s always more business to do. WashCo’s one thing, but the Maguire holdings are expanding. It’s a dangerous game, getting big in a city like this, but I thrive on the competition. Let the other families worry. Let them dream of putting a bullet in my head.
Can’t kill me if they’re all dead.
“Seriously, what’s got you so distracted?” Marcus slumps back into his chair. Now that the portfolio’s on my desk and his pitch is finished, he can go back to being my friend. A clear division of labor.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Heard that before. You worried about the Whelans? They breathing down your neck again?”