because I'm good at them." Bocelli's nearly black eyes mocked Mark. "Her accounting ... among other things."
Mark felt his jaw turn to granite. His blood turned to ice.
A nun couldn't mistake Bocelli's insinuation that he was fucking Nicki.
While trying to kill her by crashing a stage light onto her head?
He wanted to strangle Mr. Italian Stallion Macho all over again.
If Nicki was, in fact, having sex with Blade, it shouldn't be a surprise. If there was a bad girl in the crowd, Mark would find her every time. And want the hell out of her.
His first girlfriend in middle school had been expelled for selling the answers to a history test. From there, it only got worse. As a freshman in high school, his girlfriend had been caught giving a blow job in the boys' bathroom--to someone else. As a senior, his squeeze had a skull and crossbones tattooed on her ass--after having her nipples pierced. In college, the lust of the moment had been putting herself through school by subscribing people to her website so they could pay to watch her masturbate. Hell, his own wife had married him just to have him take the fall for her felony.
No one had worse taste in women than he did.
The fact he was sweating over a woman who wore thongs, had her naval pierced, and owned a strip club was just par for the course. Her spreading her legs for a Mafia thug shouldn't surprise him in the least.
It just pissed him off that he should feel let down. Some things, he reminded himself, never changed.
Regardless, he still had to get into Nicki's accounting records. And even though it was stupid, damned if he didn't still want to get inside her ... just once.
Mark looked at Bocelli and sneered. "Well, you may have handled some things for Nicki in the past. But 'things' will change now she's got competent help."
Chapter 5
M ark had the uncomfortable feeling that, if the old saying about someone's ears burning when others were talking about them was true, his would have been on fire.
After an unexpected voice mail from Nicki asking him to drop by her place at five, after Monday rehearsal, he arrived at her front door, just as Lucia was exiting. The look that passed between the sisters suggested he'd been the topic of conversation.
Uh oh.
"You are in so much trouble," Lucia whispered, a smile playing at her soft mouth.
"What? Why?"
Lucia continued on, down the hall to her own apartment as if he hadn't spoken.
Scowling, he turned back toward Nicki's door. Toward Nicki, now standing at the portal with a solemn face--and wearing a killer black dress. What the hell was going on?
Her hesitant posture only underscored the tense furrow of her brow. Clearly, she hadn't invited him here for the fun of it. With her low-cut minidress and sexy stilettos, Nicki looked good enough to eat ... all the way to multiple orgasms, but he wasn't fooled by her outfit de jour. Since Bocelli had discovered them nearly having sex on the club's stage last Thursday, Nicki had done a masterful job avoiding him. He doubted very seriously she had invited him here for sex.
Damn shame, too.
"You called?" He held up his cell phone to indicate that he'd received her message.
With a jerky nod, she stepped back, opening the door wider. "Come in."
He paused, looking into Nicki's apprehensive oval face, the sharp, watchful stare of her upturned blue eyes. Whatever had prompted her surprising request to drop by her place wasn't something she was looking forward to.
Mark's mind raced. Why would she ask him here, at exactly five o' clock, on the club's only dark day? Either she wanted to talk about his lack of progress in learning his damned Viking routines or ask why he'd appeared in her office early this morning to peek at her accounting records and give her "accountant" a hard time. He was more than willing to bet Bocelli had already informed Nicki of their altercation earlier today.
Before or after he climbed between her legs? a snide voice in the back of his head asked.
It
Mark felt his jaw turn to granite. His blood turned to ice.
A nun couldn't mistake Bocelli's insinuation that he was fucking Nicki.
While trying to kill her by crashing a stage light onto her head?
He wanted to strangle Mr. Italian Stallion Macho all over again.
If Nicki was, in fact, having sex with Blade, it shouldn't be a surprise. If there was a bad girl in the crowd, Mark would find her every time. And want the hell out of her.
His first girlfriend in middle school had been expelled for selling the answers to a history test. From there, it only got worse. As a freshman in high school, his girlfriend had been caught giving a blow job in the boys' bathroom--to someone else. As a senior, his squeeze had a skull and crossbones tattooed on her ass--after having her nipples pierced. In college, the lust of the moment had been putting herself through school by subscribing people to her website so they could pay to watch her masturbate. Hell, his own wife had married him just to have him take the fall for her felony.
No one had worse taste in women than he did.
The fact he was sweating over a woman who wore thongs, had her naval pierced, and owned a strip club was just par for the course. Her spreading her legs for a Mafia thug shouldn't surprise him in the least.
It just pissed him off that he should feel let down. Some things, he reminded himself, never changed.
Regardless, he still had to get into Nicki's accounting records. And even though it was stupid, damned if he didn't still want to get inside her ... just once.
Mark looked at Bocelli and sneered. "Well, you may have handled some things for Nicki in the past. But 'things' will change now she's got competent help."
Chapter 5
M ark had the uncomfortable feeling that, if the old saying about someone's ears burning when others were talking about them was true, his would have been on fire.
After an unexpected voice mail from Nicki asking him to drop by her place at five, after Monday rehearsal, he arrived at her front door, just as Lucia was exiting. The look that passed between the sisters suggested he'd been the topic of conversation.
Uh oh.
"You are in so much trouble," Lucia whispered, a smile playing at her soft mouth.
"What? Why?"
Lucia continued on, down the hall to her own apartment as if he hadn't spoken.
Scowling, he turned back toward Nicki's door. Toward Nicki, now standing at the portal with a solemn face--and wearing a killer black dress. What the hell was going on?
Her hesitant posture only underscored the tense furrow of her brow. Clearly, she hadn't invited him here for the fun of it. With her low-cut minidress and sexy stilettos, Nicki looked good enough to eat ... all the way to multiple orgasms, but he wasn't fooled by her outfit de jour. Since Bocelli had discovered them nearly having sex on the club's stage last Thursday, Nicki had done a masterful job avoiding him. He doubted very seriously she had invited him here for sex.
Damn shame, too.
"You called?" He held up his cell phone to indicate that he'd received her message.
With a jerky nod, she stepped back, opening the door wider. "Come in."
He paused, looking into Nicki's apprehensive oval face, the sharp, watchful stare of her upturned blue eyes. Whatever had prompted her surprising request to drop by her place wasn't something she was looking forward to.
Mark's mind raced. Why would she ask him here, at exactly five o' clock, on the club's only dark day? Either she wanted to talk about his lack of progress in learning his damned Viking routines or ask why he'd appeared in her office early this morning to peek at her accounting records and give her "accountant" a hard time. He was more than willing to bet Bocelli had already informed Nicki of their altercation earlier today.
Before or after he climbed between her legs? a snide voice in the back of his head asked.
It
Similar Books
