“Sunday seems too soon.” He considers me and grins. “Want to bet? Perhaps we could make a friendly wager.”
I pull a hundred from my wallet and drop it on the desk. “Sunday.”
Damiano throws a bill on top of mine. “Also, if they don’t get the gold by Sunday, you help me pursue Madison.”
“Fuck no.”
“Seth.”
“I said no.” I meet his gaze. “And from my vantage point, you don’t need my help with Madison. You seem to be doing just fucking fine on your own.”
“But—our pact?—”
Fuck the pact. “We made that promise, what, three years ago? Four? Maybe we’ve outgrown it—we can go our separate ways.”
It doesn’t feel good to suggest we dissolve the pact. Pursuing a woman with him has always felt like the right choice. But I also can’t go after Madison.
“We made that pact for a reason.” Damiano starts pacing—a sign that he’s agitated. “We know we’re better. Together, you know? With a woman. We figured this out as soon as we started Nove.”
As soon as we started Nove, we discovered we had other things in common. Kinks. Fetishes. We found Low Vice and started exploring those kinks. The first time we fucked a woman together, we knew things would never be the same again. We could never go back.
He punches his palm with his fist. “We’re supposed to share a woman. You know this, Seth.”
“But I also know Madison is not the woman for me. She was my sister-in-law.”
“She isn’t anymore.”
“She’s too young for us.”
“You’re making up excuses because you are scared.” He paces all the way to the bookshelf at the far end of my office. He slides a finger along the book spines. “I need you with me. She’s perfect for us, Seth. She’s more than a playmate.”
“She’s not perfect for us. She’s off limits. And I’m not fucking scared.” The retort sounds childish even to my ears, but fuck’s sake, I’m not scared.
He looks up like he just found the answer to a troublesome math problem. “You bid on her at the auction for a reason.”
I still don’t know why I did that. Briefly, I allow myself to remember how she looked on that stage. Nervous but excited. That flirtatious smile playing on her plump lips. Her body on display for everyone, and the way she owned that.
I don’t know how I could have not bid on her.
And Damiano is dangerously close to talking me into this terrible idea. I have to escape the conversation before it goes any further. Hell, I have to escape San Esteban, and Damiano.
Standing, I say, “I’ll be out of the office for a few days.”
“What?” His gaze snaps to me. “Where are you going?”
“Away, asshole. I need a break.”
“During the Venezuela job?”
“It’s practically done. Our team doesn’t need handholding.” I snag the two hundreds from my desk. “The wager’s off, and I’m keeping this for gas money.”
“While you’re gone, think things over,” he says. “She’s the woman for us. Give this some serious thought.”
“No.”
MADISON
As Damiano drives us away from my house in his sleek, silver-gray convertible, he hands me a scarf.
