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Both of us knew things weren’t looking good.
The clock behind us gave us all the reminders of why. A devastating agony took over my entire body when I realized how fast time really was going with Santino in that jail cell next to me.
I reached for him again, and I held on tight. I wasn’t saying goodbye; at least, that’s what I told myself.
“I’m going to lie to you,” I whispered.
“Good,” he replied. “Good, lie to me then.”
“Everything’s going to be okay.” I managed a small smile. “And because of that, we should probably enjoy each other as much as possible, right? I mean, I am wearing this beautiful nightgown.” I pointed down with my free hand. The garment was torn and filthy; I looked like I was homeless.
Santino gripped the bar with his right hand while holding my hand with his left. “You’re stunning.” I opened my mouth to say something, but he kept talking. “Even that day when you were afraid and had blood all over you, and you nearly drowned, you were stunning. When you were in the SUV with me owning your pain, you were stunning, and right now, sitting in a dark wet prison cell, I don’t think you’ve ever been more beautiful.”
“You wait to say that…” I licked my lips. “…when there’s bars between us?”
“Bars aren’t a deterrent.” Santino reached for one of my ankles and pulled it until my leg was nearly completely through the bar, and on his side, he did the same to the other until I was completely bare to him, with the bar in the middle. My lingerie had inched up my ass.
He reached a hand between my legs, pressed his fingertips against my right thigh, then trailed his fingers toward my core. I didn’t speak. The moment was full of hunger and sadness, nothing existed but us… and the bars between us.
I gripped both of them and pulled myself as close as possible as he inched a finger inside me and then another.
My body seized under the pressure and pleasure of his fingers. He pinned me with a drowning stare, one that took me completely under his spell.
“You’re mine,” he proclaimed. “Mine.” His fingers moved faster, deeper. Tremors built with each movement. “So when he touches you, know that you belong to yourself and to me. Nobody can take that away from you, do you understand?”
I nodded. Trying again not to cry. His words soothed me, his fingers claimed me, and as if my body knew the vow I’d just made, my release came. The best orgasm of my life.
Between prison bars.
From an assassin, who would soon face the other end of the gun.
My husband.
He pulled his hand back, but I grabbed it. “Can we just stay like this, where I imagine I’m in there with you a little bit longer?”
“Yeah.” He leaned his forehead against the bars. “Let’s just stay like this—forever.”
“I’d like that.”
“Me too.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“A guy told me one time… don’t let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner.” —Neil McCauley
Andrei
Something was wrong.
I didn’t know what, but something had shifted. I opened the door to my office and walked out. It was quiet, too quiet. Weren’t they supposed to be coming around midnight? Everyone was in position.
We were ready for our bloodbath, for our part in this war.
And I’d stayed in my office until the twelfth hour in case the worst happened, and nobody was left, but the worst wasn’t happening. In fact, it was an all-around boring night.
All my texts from the guys said the same.
The intel couldn’t be wrong.
