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Her eyes ignite with fire. “If you think you get to order me around because of that stupid contract?—”
She’s picturing wrapping her hands around my neck and squeezing, and I’m picturing her naked. God, I’d love to order her around. Spank that tight ass of hers every time she sasses me, shove my fingers inside her soaking wet cunt, and bring her to the edge, over and over. Sex with Alina would be amazing. All that fire, all that passion, all that burning intensity…
“Then I’d be right,” I finish her sentence. “We had a deal, one that requires both of us to honor our commitments. There are two hundred thousand euros in the bank account. You haven’t spent any of it. Why not?”
“I can’t spend it. I intend to buy you out.”
Maddening woman. “You’re working sixteen-hour days. You haven’t had time off in over two weeks. Hire someone to manage the front desk and bring on a couple of instructors.”
“And if I don’t obey your orders? What then?”
My cock is painfully hard. “I don’t make threats, dolcezza.” The term of endearment slips out before I can catch it. “I make promises. Hire some help before you drive yourself into an early grave.”
13
ALINA
Islam the door shut on Tomas, furious about his ultimatum. Then I turn around and see it.
My vibrator.
Sitting there in all its penis-shaped glory, right on the nightstand, in full view of the front door.
Where Tomas undoubtedly saw it.
Kill me.
Kill me now.
Because I can never look at my annoying, aggravating, irritating-as-all-hell partner’s face again.
In the shower, I plot my next move. The moment I’m dressed, I call my friend Lidya in Milan. “I need to make money, fast,” I tell her. Lidya Kaleb is, like me, a fellow MMA gym owner, but that’s where the similarities end. Lidya has four times as many members as I do, and she owns her business outright. No infuriating partners to deal with. “Give me some ideas.”
“How much money?”
“A million euros.”
“A million euros?” she repeats, her voice rising in disbelief. “Are you in trouble?”
“No, it’s to buy out my partner.”
“Oh, good, you’re finally getting rid of Simon. I almost punched him in the face at the awards dinner. He did not teach you everything you know, my God.”
“It’s not Simon I need to get rid of. He’s gone.”
“What do you mean, gone?”
“He ran afoul of someone in the mafia, so he upped and left in a hurry. But because this is Simon, and he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to fuck me over one last time, he sold his share of the gym to some random guy who also works for the mafia.” Also, I masturbated thinking of that random guy, had a sex dream about him, woke up, made myself come again, and then he knocked on the door.
“What? Ali, it’s six in the morning, and I haven’t even had my second cup of coffee. You can’t spring this on me without warning. Go back to the start, slow down, and tell me everything.”
I fill her in as I drink my own coffee, leaving nothing out. Tomas and his lawyer walking into the gym last week, Jon’s opinion of the contract, Marcelo’s sudden willingness to finish the job he’s been neglecting. The two hundred thousand euros in my bank account—money that gives me the freedom to hire instructors and upgrade the facilities. I finish with my inconvenient attraction. “I’m in serious lust,” I admit reluctantly. “I need him out. He has to go.”
“He sounds like a perfect partner,” Lidya points out. “He can deal with the numbers while you focus on teaching. If you have the hots for him, why don’t you just bang it out?”
“No,” I say at once.
“Why not?” my friend demands. “Is he married?”
