“Roland is going to be outside in five,” Rocco said.
On the sofa with my cartoons on and my mug of coffee balanced on my knee, I was too preoccupied to even hear him over my internal screams of joy. “Yeah,” I said.
“Did you make sure to put deodorant on?” he asked.
“Yeah.” My body swayed a little now as the show’s theme tune played. I grabbed my mug and sipped at the strong pupil-dilating coffee juice.
“What about some cologne?”
“Yep.”
Daddy’s warm body came up behind me, and he pressed his nose to my neck and inhaled. “Did you lie?”
“No, no,” I said, snapping out of the show trance. “I never lie.”
“Were you listening, then?”
I giggled.
He wrapped his arms around my chest from behind like he was the wires of a polygraph. “Drink up,” he said, kissing my neck. “And put some deodorant on.”
“Do I get a reward?” I asked, turning my head toward his and taking his lips in a kiss. “Because I’d like a reward.”
“Yes,” he said. “The reward of being in Daddy’s bed.”
“Oh.” I giggled. “Any other rewards?”
Daddy’s deep and rough voice from just a grumble nearly sent my hand with the mug jolting. “How about the reward of being on my good side, and anything bad get you on my bad side, and that’s when I get to have a little fun.”
I looked at him, trying to figure him out—it was impossible, but in the sort of way that was impossible when you were too close to something. “You mean, when I’m good, I get to choose everything, and when I’m bad, you get to choose everything?”
“Something like that,” he said, kissing me again. I immediately licked my lips clean of it, but all I could taste was coffee.
“And what about when you’re bad?” I asked.
“I’m never bad.” He wiggled his brows. “Not unless you want me to be.”
I knew he was part of acrimefamily, and the whole notion of that meant he was a criminal, and I was turned on by it. In all the time I’d been going to agency mandated therapy, I don’t think either the therapist or I had caught on to my want, or at least my need, for men in charge—men who were a risk, and perhaps men who could leave a little lasting damage on my skin. I was into that. Rocco encompassed it nicely... or horribly?
Rocco wore his incredibly smart clothes while I was here doing my best not to look like a federal agent. He said we hada lookto us, and since I’d been with them for six years, all of that had really gone into me, at my core. To the point that even just wearing a plain T-shirt under my jacket still sent a message that I wasundercover, even if technically I wasn’t and never had been.
We got into the back of the car and drove to my mom’s place. She’d texted me back, not immediately, but she said she was busy with her yarn and didn’t need me yapping in her ear. My stomach was filled with nervous bubbles as I clung to Rocco’s hand in the back of the car.
“You’re not going to say anything, are you?” I asked him.
“Like what?” he asked in that deep soul-stirring way.
“I don’t know, like, you’re not going to mention anything people say about your family.”
“Rumors,” he said. “I love talking about them.”
“Yeah, well, my mom will probably mention it,” I said, trying to give him something to anticipate. “I’m not saying we spoke about you before, but she knowswhoyou are.”
Rocco had the sort of laugh that was all nonchalance, like nothing stuck to him, not a feeling, a thought, and maybe not even me.Luckily the drive to my mom’s place wasn’t long or I might’ve driven myself insane. Roland had been here with me the night before, and he took his spot outside the car, hands over his lap as he waited for us just inside the building.
“Surprised this place hasn’t fallen down,” he said as we stood waiting for the elevator.
“I know,” I said. “Please don’t mention it.”
