Finally, I come.
I pant as I watch my cum mix with shower water and disappear down the drain.
Fuck!
I grab a towel and dry myself off, still disgusted with myself.
Back in my bedroom, I grab my phone and make a call.
“Caleb.” My voice is gruff. “Why did Amara come home last night? I thought she was staying at yours.”
“No idea?” He sounds confused. “Poppy said she left early. Less than an hour after getting there. She sent Poppy a text to tell her she was home safe, so I left it.”
Something’s not right. “Golf tomorrow?”
“Eight work for you?”
“Perfect.” I need to clear my head, figure out what the hell is going on with Amara. And why she was so terrified last night that she wanted her passport?
Half an hour later and I plate up the French toast, drizzling maple syrup and adding strawberries because I knowAmara loves them. The kitchen is filled with the scent of vanilla and cinnamon.
“Oh my God, that smells perfect.” She perches on a stool at the breakfast bar, hair still damp from her shower, wearing tiny denim shorts and a white tank top.
I push the plate toward her. “It’s for you.”
Her smile alone is worth getting up early every day to make her breakfast and get a smile like that in return. “Thanks for this and for last night.” She cuts into the toast. “For staying.”
“Until you finally passed out.” I pour coffee into my mug. “Took you long enough.”
Her lips curve up. “I was waiting for you to go to sleep first.”
I grin. “I know. I was pretending.”
Our eyes lock, just before she bursts out laughing.
I laugh with her, then we both stop at the same time. Staring at each other as the air crackles between us, and I grip my mug tighter.
She breaks first, looking down at her plate.
“Do you still want your passport?” I ask her.
“Yeah. Please.” She pushes a piece of toast around. “This life is dangerous.”
“No one will hurt you.” I lean forward, resting my finger under her chin and forcing her to meet my gaze. “Ever.”
“How can you be sure?” She picks up her glass and takes a sip of orange juice. “What about the other families?People who you’ve upset. I thought I was going to be kidnapped last night. I could hear noises in the house.”
“The house is the most secure place for you to be.”
She smiles, but I can see that she really is scared.
She needs a little more convincing. “And I don’t bring work home. Business happens at Antonio’s or Angels and Sinners.”
“But what about territory disputes? Don’t they happen all the time?” She swallows, a ripple visible on her neck. “Other mafia groups are desperate to take over your imports.”
I narrow my eyes. Since when does she care about mafia politics? “Things are quiet right now.”
My phone buzzes. Antonio’s name flashes on the screen.
