Page 353 of The Tempted

Chapter Twelve

“I’m surprised Jack peeled you off Bianci for this,” Bones said as he handed me another piece of wood.

We were working hard in a shed, behind Pop’s shooting range for the last two days, building custom wooden crates to transport guns. Sun Wu reached out to Jack a couple of days ago looking for more guns. I don’t know what that guy has going on, but he was up to something—probably protecting his ass from some kind of sudden death. He had enough ammo to fight Isis but still he made an agreement with the Knights to buy guns every two weeks, and now he was looking for bigger machines. The crazy motherfucker was in the market for sniper rifles and the crazier motherfucker, Jack, was off on the road, making sure we had them.

“Bianci went up to visit Pastore in the pen,” I replied, drilling the screws into the wood, securing the hinge on the top of the crate.

I was thankful for the reprieve. These last couple of weeks have been hell on me. I thought I’d get off on having one up over Anthony, and one would think screwing his sister was a big advantage. However, I didn’t feel the high I thought I would, and instead I felt like a big scumbag.

I should’ve kept my dick in my pants but I was a spoiled brat.

I wanted Lauren, and I always got what I wanted.

And it was everything I knew it would be.

I don’t regret it even though I should.

See? Told you. Scumbag.

My only regret is that it wasn’t longer, that I didn’t take my time.

I should’ve fucked her with my mouth first, then I’d know how she tastes.

I know what she looks like when she comes and I’ll just have to hang on to that.

My pretty Kitten.

I miss her.

I miss talking to her. I miss teasing her and getting her flustered.

I know I’m not the guy for her. I’m never going to settle down. I don’t want an old lady. I just want to fuck around. I could do what I do with every other girl—I could fuck Lauren until I had my fill, but then what? Throw her to the side? Fuck another woman in front of her so she gets the point? Break her fucking heart?

It’s better this way.

A clean break.

Maybe one day I’ll be able to look at her and not want to bang her into next week.

Maybe then we could be friends.

“Who is after Bianci anyway?” Bones asked, as he opened and closed the crate I just finished assembling, testing it to make sure it was in working condition. He stamped “Heavy Automotive Parts” on top of the crate and set it aside to dry.

“Technically, no one, but what do I know about that mob shit. Now that the fuck with the fur coat is running the show I think “Old Man Soprano” is worried that he will clip his son-in-law,” I surmised.

“Complicated shit,” Bones said.

“Them Italians love to complicate shit,” I added.

He smirked.

“What?” I pressed, placing the drill down and reaching into my pocket for my joint.

“I wonder how complicated things would get if Bianci knew you were banging his sister,” Bones mused, as he took the joint and lit it.

“Banged,” I corrected. “As in one time,” I added.

“You’re an asshole,” he claimed. “You should’ve kept that piece around, real pretty to look at and feisty enough to make things fun,” he added, thoughtfully.

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