Yet, somehow, even with a body to bury and a potential murder charge hanging over my head if someone or some camera caught me, all I could seem to think about was what kind of suit I could get to impress Stephanie.
The fuck was that about?
CHAPTER NINE
Stephanie
I didn’t see much of Venezio for the next few days.
It was mostly because of me and how busy I was. And, fine, a little bit because I didn’t quite trust myself to be around him and not try to, I don’t know, hump his leg or something like that.
I’d been in a heightened, constant state of arousal since the damn night on the street. I’d imagined those hands of his gliding, squeezing, slapping, thrusting. I thought about those lips and that tongue of his touching and tasting every inch of me.
And, well, yeah, other things too.
I’d chosen my next work project specifically because there was no spice in it. I was worried that narrating it would push me to the brink, and it felt wholly unprofessional to read a book sounding all husky and breathless.
So I’d been narrating this horrifically gory action drama that occasionally crossed the line into out-and-out body horror.
It managed to put ice on my libido. But only for as long as I was reading it. Then all bets were off because my stupid mind refused to think about anything but Venezio.
I’d literally gone through a set of batteries already. To no avail. I still ached at the thought of him and that sexy, roughvoice, those mesmerizing eyes, and his gruff but protective nature.
Even his absence in my life wasn’t enough to calm my system down. Each time I smelled coffee or spotted a leather coat, I nearly wept with need.
To the point where I almost considered just… making a move on him.
Almost.
If it weren’t for the charity event I was depending on him to take me to, I might have done just that.
As it was, it was getting too late to find a replacement date. So I just had to suffer until then.
“You okay?” Craig asked, snapping me out of thoughts I should not be thinking of while sitting at a phone bank where I was supposed to be begging strangers for money to buy children’s toys.
“Hm? Yep. Yeah. Of course. Just got lost in my to-do list, I guess.”
“You have visitors,” he said, waving over toward the door.
I glanced up, spotting Andy and Sammy standing there, glancing around the warehouse with wide eyes.
They’d never visited before. And, yeah, if I tried to see it through their eyes, it wasn’t much to write home about. At least it was no longer freezing.
“Hey, guys!” I called, a genuine smile tugging at my lips as we walked toward each other. “What are you doing here?”
Andy was wearing a red velvet dress with red and black plaid leggings underneath. Sammy was clearly still dressed from work in her black pantsuit. But I noticed the pattern on her white silk blouse that looked like dots from afar was actually little Santa hats.
The two women were a study in contrasts. Where Andy was petite and red-headed with honey-brown eyes, Sammy was tall and curvy with dark brown hair, a sharp face, and light blue eyes.
“For two reasons, really,” Sammy started.
“For one, I have a donation I scrounged up at my mom’s work,” Andy said, reaching into her purse to pull out a brown sandwich bag seemingly full of cash. “They were pretty generous. I didn’t count. But I think—”
“‘Scuse me,” a deep voice that had been starring in all my bedtime fantasies said, scooting around the two women.
“Whoops, sorry,” Sammy said, leading Andy forward a step so Venezio could come in behind them.
“Wait, who is this?” Andy asked, eyes bright. Because she knew exactly who it was.
