Page 33 of Bleed
“Oh fuck. Again.” She groans, and I comply, squeezing the skin between my fingers to force more of the blood from the wound. “I’m gonna cum just from that.”
“Do it, cum on my face as I lick it all up, baby.” I purr against her thigh, licking the cut, wiggling my tongue on it, then leaving it to rapidly lap and suck her clit.
“Oh shit, shit, shit.”
“Good girl, come on, give it to me.”
Like the absolute piece of perfection she is, she erupts on my face, cumming violently, dousing me in her juices while she screams out her pleasure into the steamy air around us.
Chapter Eighteen
Things seem brighter and clearer as I ride through downtown Charlotte. It’s like a black cloud that has shrouded me over the past five years has finally lifted and allowed me to see the sun again. The wind feels fresher on my skin, and the air just smells better.
There’s a different cloud now though, and as I ride to the restaurant to put my appearance in, the feelings of hatred and betrayal I feel towards the family I’ve given my all to make me feel ill.
Step one of our plan begins today, and I need to make it believable, which worries me because Dani could get hurt or worse yet, killed. We need Valentino to think that I’m keeping the contract, that I’m loyal to the family, and that I’m doing everything I can to get the Recluse. In the process I have to find out if “A” really is Allie, like I think it is. There’s something between the two of them, and I’m going to figure it out.
The restaurant is quiet except for Antonio hard at work prepping for the day’s line at the center island in my kitchen.
Huh, my kitchen?
It’s dark except for the spotlights over the workspace, and he moves quickly and efficiently, ignoring me when I walk in and toss my keys to Luna on the counter by the door.
“Morning.” I say to my sous chef, but still he stays immersed in what he’s doing until I slide up next to him and bump his shoulder with mine.
“Oh shit, bossman, you’re here.” He says, startled and pulling a white earbud from his left ear. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“It’s all good. How have things been?”
“Not too bad. I think I’ve gotten your whole routine down now.” He says with a big grin, fanning out his hands to show me the array of prepped items that match what’s on the menu he’s written and pinned to the track above us.
“Good, because we need to talk.” I say, watching his face fall. I slap him on the shoulder and smile at him. “Not like that. It’s a good thing. Well, for you.”
Pausing my thoughts for a second, I go to the liquor cabinet by the front counter, pull out a top shelf bottle of whiskey, and grab two glasses bringing them back to the island. I pour each of us three fingers worth and swirl both glasses before handing him his.
“What’s going on?” He asks, confused, taking the drink from me and offering a salute with a tilted rim.
“You’re now the executive chef. Congratulations.” I say, tapping my glass to his with a dainty clinking. “Cheers.”
“What?!”
“There’s an issue, and I need to focus on my ‘other’ job for the unforeseeable future. I need you to step up and keep things in line.”
“So it’s temporary?”
“No. The kitchen is yours. I won’t be coming back.”
“Man, what’s going on? Are you okay?”
“For now.” I sigh and down the whiskey in one big gulp, not even tasting it before I pour myself another.
“You know I’ve got your back, right?” Everything we’ve been through here. I’m loyal to you, my friend.”
“Good, because I need your help.”
“Anything.”
Grabbing two stools from the corner, I bring them to the island and offer him a seat, pouring more whiskey for us both. His face goes from surprised to angry, to sympathetic as I tell him what’s going on, what I think is happening, and what I have planned. If there’s anyone I trust here to bring into the plan and help it’s him, and he proves it by giving me a big, back slapping hug when I finish the explanation and down the last of the alcohol in my glass.
