that's terrible!”
“ Barely survived.” I let the edge of my index finger lightly brush against the skin of her neck. I could feel her shiver in her thigh.
Kimberly rolled her eyes, and Chris snickered.
“The doctors said it was my stamina that saved me.”
More eye rolling – from both Kim and Chris this time.
The chick next to me just beamed.
I'm so in there.
There was nothing that was going to stop me from taking this girl back to my hotel room and fucking her into oblivion. Absolutely nothing. It was a good thing, too – I had just spent the last week trying to ditch a local girl who didn’t seem to understand the meaning of a one-night-stand. It even got to the point where I had to block her number from my phone, and she still kept finding ways to reach me. I’d half considered getting one of my dad’s goons to scare her into leaving me alone, but the only one who might have done it would have been Evan Arden, Dad’s favorite hit man and preferred son. He’s not actually related to us or anything; Dad just wishes he was. I’m not jealous. It’s just that Evan…well…I’d be afraid he’d end up doing more than just scaring her. I didn’t want her dead , just out of my way.
Right now, I wanted to find a nice out -of-town girl to get my rocks off. That way, I would be able to get rid of her shortly afterwards, and even though my place was only a short ride on the Chicago L train or in a taxi, I’d rather make this a convenient hotel-room lay, and the chick next to me was exactly what I needed.
“ It’s not that late,” she purred over her straw.
“ This pub’s about to close, love.”
“ I bet there are other parties still going on,” she said with a bit of a smile and a flutter of her eyelashes.
You don’t have to convince me , baby.
There was always a party going on. Out here in the burbs, Lincoln Park, downtown, any of the hundred clubs and bars around – whatever you wanted, the city was sure to have it somewhere if you looked hard enough. I’d been a Chicagoan most of my life, so I knew all the best spots. Hell, I knew the shitty spots as well – I liked to party.
Chicago is a great place to live, even if you aren’t connected to a family known for various illegal activities. Oh, I know – Chicago , right? Chicago and the mafia – how fucking cliché is that? Well, it is cliché. I can’t help that – I didn’t marry the mob; I was born into it.
“ Do you know what room parties are going on over there?” she asked with that big, pink smile. She nodded over to the far side of the bar, which led to the hotel lobby and a bank of elevators. There were about thirty people standing around trying to get in, but every time the doors opened, the elevators were already full.
Amateurs.
I always got a room on a low floor so I could take the stairs if I want. Anytime there was a big event in a hotel, the elevator travel becomes insane. It was always best to book a room where you could get up and down without the wait.
“ We could head up to room 555,” she said. “I heard there’s an awesome party up there.”
I barely heard the words though I was doing my best to maintain constant eye contact and that little hint of a half smile that made panties within twenty feet of me wet. It was the pink lips I was finding so distracting. It wasn’t just the bright, glittery sheen to them, but they had that Botox plumpness that just looked so good wrapped around…
“ There’s that party up in the con suite,” Chris reminded me. “Free food and piss-water beer.”
I look ed from the petite, overly made-up, busty redhead to the six-foot tall, black-haired Scotsman, several times removed from the country itself. He shrugged as I made eye contact with him. I so did not need him making this whole process of getting this chick to my room take longer. Ultimately, it impacted him, too. He’d have Lee hanging with him until I
“ Barely survived.” I let the edge of my index finger lightly brush against the skin of her neck. I could feel her shiver in her thigh.
Kimberly rolled her eyes, and Chris snickered.
“The doctors said it was my stamina that saved me.”
More eye rolling – from both Kim and Chris this time.
The chick next to me just beamed.
I'm so in there.
There was nothing that was going to stop me from taking this girl back to my hotel room and fucking her into oblivion. Absolutely nothing. It was a good thing, too – I had just spent the last week trying to ditch a local girl who didn’t seem to understand the meaning of a one-night-stand. It even got to the point where I had to block her number from my phone, and she still kept finding ways to reach me. I’d half considered getting one of my dad’s goons to scare her into leaving me alone, but the only one who might have done it would have been Evan Arden, Dad’s favorite hit man and preferred son. He’s not actually related to us or anything; Dad just wishes he was. I’m not jealous. It’s just that Evan…well…I’d be afraid he’d end up doing more than just scaring her. I didn’t want her dead , just out of my way.
Right now, I wanted to find a nice out -of-town girl to get my rocks off. That way, I would be able to get rid of her shortly afterwards, and even though my place was only a short ride on the Chicago L train or in a taxi, I’d rather make this a convenient hotel-room lay, and the chick next to me was exactly what I needed.
“ It’s not that late,” she purred over her straw.
“ This pub’s about to close, love.”
“ I bet there are other parties still going on,” she said with a bit of a smile and a flutter of her eyelashes.
You don’t have to convince me , baby.
There was always a party going on. Out here in the burbs, Lincoln Park, downtown, any of the hundred clubs and bars around – whatever you wanted, the city was sure to have it somewhere if you looked hard enough. I’d been a Chicagoan most of my life, so I knew all the best spots. Hell, I knew the shitty spots as well – I liked to party.
Chicago is a great place to live, even if you aren’t connected to a family known for various illegal activities. Oh, I know – Chicago , right? Chicago and the mafia – how fucking cliché is that? Well, it is cliché. I can’t help that – I didn’t marry the mob; I was born into it.
“ Do you know what room parties are going on over there?” she asked with that big, pink smile. She nodded over to the far side of the bar, which led to the hotel lobby and a bank of elevators. There were about thirty people standing around trying to get in, but every time the doors opened, the elevators were already full.
Amateurs.
I always got a room on a low floor so I could take the stairs if I want. Anytime there was a big event in a hotel, the elevator travel becomes insane. It was always best to book a room where you could get up and down without the wait.
“ We could head up to room 555,” she said. “I heard there’s an awesome party up there.”
I barely heard the words though I was doing my best to maintain constant eye contact and that little hint of a half smile that made panties within twenty feet of me wet. It was the pink lips I was finding so distracting. It wasn’t just the bright, glittery sheen to them, but they had that Botox plumpness that just looked so good wrapped around…
“ There’s that party up in the con suite,” Chris reminded me. “Free food and piss-water beer.”
I look ed from the petite, overly made-up, busty redhead to the six-foot tall, black-haired Scotsman, several times removed from the country itself. He shrugged as I made eye contact with him. I so did not need him making this whole process of getting this chick to my room take longer. Ultimately, it impacted him, too. He’d have Lee hanging with him until I
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