“Lots of things. First off, I am rock hard for you right now. I wish you could feel my cock straining through my pants right now.” I can hear her whimper softly on the other end of the phone. “What are you doing right now, sweetheart?”
“Hmm.”
“Baby, use your words.”
“I’m—”
“Are you touching yourself right now?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“My breasts.”
“Keep touching them. I want your pussy wet and your nipples hard for me, Vanessa.” I shift the phone so I can free one hand and undo my pants.“I’m taking my cock out right now, stroking it slowly. Imagine me right there on top of you, baby.”
She lets out a low moan.
“Slide your fingers down to your pussy, honey. Is it wet for me?”
“Yes,” she says breathlessly.
“Good. Finger yourself, Vanessa. My cock is so hard for you. I wish I could come all over you.”
“Fuck, Mateo.”
“Keep going, baby. I want to hear you come.”
I stroke myself, close but holding back, wanting us to fall apart together. After a few moments, all that fills the line is our ragged breathing and soft, broken sounds.
“Mateo, I’m going to come.”
“Good, baby. Me too. Come for me.”
I let out a low, broken moan as I come hard, thick heat spilling over my hands and streaking across my stomach.
“I love you, Mateo.”
“I love you too, Vanessa.”
“Please be careful and come home as soon as you can.”
“I will.”
I end the call and step into the shower.
The hot water runs over my skin, but the tension isn’t just in my muscles. It’s deeper than that. Leaving home, going into this with no real backup, it all sits heavy in my chest. The plan is simple. Go in, close the deal, sign the contract, and get out. That’s what Gino and I agreed on. But the extra dinners and meetings they keep adding are what make me uneasy. If this is the last dirty thing we have to do, why does it feel like we’re still playing their game?
The meetingwith the Russos goes far more smoothly than I expect. They barely push back. Anthony Russo takes the contract and signs it almost as soon as it’s in front of him, no argument over the changes in product or price. It’s too easy, and that makes my skin crawl.
“Mateo, this deal is supposed to make us both a lot of money,” Anthony says as he hands the signed pages back to me.
“It should,” I reply. Two of his older sons stand at his sides, while the younger ones and a few of his men linger behind me.
As Anthony turns to murmur something to one of his sons, I scan the room. His office is massive, more like a living room than a workspace. Behind him, wide windows look out over the vineyard stretching across the property, acres and acres of green rolling off into the distance.
For the next few minutes, we keep up light conversation until Anthony excuses himself and leaves. Two of his sons, Lorenzo and Salvo, take me out to lunch to “celebrate” thecontract, which only makes my unease grow. They seem far too relaxed for men who just agreed to clean up their side of things and go more legitimate.
