Page 439 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

Maybe it’s a secret that gets uncovered as you age.

Dottie trots over to me and throws her arms around my neck, not caring at all that I am a sweaty mess. “I didn’t think we’d see you again!”

I smile. “Well, I got that job I told you about.”

Dottie furrows her brow. “Job? I don’t recall?—”

“It’s fine,” I say, knowing full well why she doesn’t recall. It’s because she never let me get a word in edgewise. Anything I said got completely drowned out by her yapping.

Still, she’s cute and excited and obviously having a grand time.

“And this young man is the one who brought you here!” she exclaims.

Memory like an elephant. Maybe she’s more observant than I gave her credit for being.

“Is he your boyfriend?” One of the others pipes in and a hot flush creeps into my cheeks. I sneak a look up at him and he grins down at me.

Then he looks at Dottie and flashes those bright white teeth before answering. “Nah, we’re just having sex.”

I bite down on my lower lip to keep from laughing when I see the shocked expression on her face. And then to her credit, a second later, she winks at me. “Ride it while you can, dear. You never know when the horse is going to give out.”

“I’ll remember that,” I say, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “It was great running into you. I hope you have an amazing time with your friends. It looks like you’re having so much fun.”

“Then you should experience it for yourself. Maybe later? We’ll be here!” Her friends let out a collective yell and fist the air.

“That sounds nice. I’ll look for you.” I give Dottie a quick hug since I’m still learning this affection thing for virtual strangers. And I’m actually not full of shit, either. Maybe I could use a little girl time. I have the night off, and something tells me I’ll need a few laughs and drinks after my dinner with Uncle Boris.

She nods, slowly looking between me and Dante with a knowing smile on her face. “In the meantime, you two enjoy!”

And on cue, the girls all hoot and holler as we walk toward the private elevator bank that leads to the residences.

“Look at you, making friends, being chatty.” he says, leaning against the wall while we wait for the elevator to arrive. “I might have to make some adjustments to my list.”

“I’m hoping you find some new ones to add,” I say in a husky voice, discreetly sliding my hand up the leg of his shorts, grazing his half-hard cock.

A sharp ding sounds and the elevator doors open. I push Dante inside, backing him against the back wall, not even bothering to wait for the doors to close again before I crush my lips against his. Our hands and legs entwine as we drink each other in like we’ve just been running outside in the blistering heat with no water.

Because we have.

And water is seemingly the last thing either of us wants right now.

The elevator hasn’t moved, so he pulls away slightly to stab the button for the forty-seventh floor before devouring me once again.

As intoxicated as I am by him, I can still see that we are moving out of the elevator now that it’s landed on the floor where Dante’s apartment is obviously situated. He backs me down a short corridor and then shoves a keycard into the lock, all while keeping his delicious lips pressed against mine. We stumble into the foyer, and in my periphery I can see it’s a carbon copy of Heaven and Matteo’s place.

With plenty of windows, just like Dante promised.

“I need to take a quick shower,” I murmur against his mouth, raising my arms overhead so he can pull off my tank top.

“I don’t understand why it needs to be quick,” he says, pulling off my shirt and shoving my shorts and panties to my ankles. I kick them off and step toward him. With a quick flick of his fingers, he has my sports bra fluttering to the floor next to the rest of my clothes.

I loop my fingers into the waistband of his shorts and slither down his calves, holding onto the material until it pools at his feet. He pulls me up to a standing position, his fingers slipping the rubber band out of my hair so that it falls gently down my back.

His eyes drop and he runs his fingers over my Band-Aid again.

Every time he examines it, my belly clenches and the butterflies stop dead in their fluttery tracks. “Any better?” he asks.

I shrug. “Yeah, but I just keep it covered in case she gets the same spot again. I don’t want it to get infected.”

---