Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
She cracks open a beer and watches me. I stare back at her from across the room. We haven’t talked about our families in a while, and I’ve liked that better. Valentina’s pain is still fresh and raw, while mine has been simmering deep inside of me for years. Mourning turned to rage, which turned to resentment, and that’s how I ended up finding Luciano Santoro, the only man in the world that seemed like he could oppose the Biancos.
Now our shared tragedy binds us together.
“I can still have a life outside of revenge.” I finish my beer and lean back on the couch.
“What’s her name?”
I close my eyes and consider lying, but I can’t do it. “Laura.”
“And you like her? I mean, is this thing serious, or are you just getting your rocks off?”
“It’s serious,” I say and realize that’s very true. “But we’re taking it slow.”
“Slow is good.” Valentina laughs softly to herself. “Did you know my dad wanted to marry me off to one of the Bianco brothers? He talked about it a few times, anyway, and it nearly happened. Can you imagine what my life would be like?”
“You’d be trapped in one of those houses.” I picture Laura’s place with its clean floors and the beautiful art on the walls. “It might not be so bad.”
“I like this.” Valentina walks over and sits down on my couch. “We’ve got a good thing going.”
I stare at her as she turns the movie back on. She takes a long pull from her beer, and I realize that I haven’t seen her out having fun in a really long time. Mostly, she’s here, eating my food and drinking my alcohol, or she’s back home sleeping and showering before coming back over. We work together, and she’s deeply involved in my plans, but she doesn’t have a life outside of what we do.
That didn’t seem like a problem until now.
Valentina falls asleep on my couch. I cover her in a blanket and leave her there. She’ll get up in the morning and find her way home. I think about sleep, but I can’t make myself lie down—I’m too wired from sneaking into Laura’s house and kissing her earlier. Instead, I log onto my computer and check to see if my backdoor into her camera system still works.
Relief floods me when the image of her living room streams onto my monitors. I flip to her basement, to her upstairs, and tunnel into her laptop. Her room’s dark, and I hear her breathing. I’m about to log out, when she rolls over and bumps against the keys. “You’re watching me, aren’t you?” she whispers, sounding only half-awake.
I’m smiling to myself as I send her a text.
Jackal: You were snoring.
“I was not,” she says and sits up. I can see the outline of her in the darkness of her room. Hair falls down around her shoulders, and one shoulder of her oversized shirt slips down. Fuck, she’s beautiful, and I wish I could be there with her right now, but the mask would only get in the way.
Jackal: I was worried I might not be able to see you.
“Security sweep was intense,” she admits. “It’s a good thing you left. My brother was really pissed.”
Jackal: Any guesses who was behind the attack?
“They don’t tell me that stuff.” She yawns and stretches. “Why are you still awake?”
Jackal: Couldn’t sleep.
“You thought it would be a good idea to creep on me instead?”
Jackal: You left your laptop open and on your bed. I wonder why.
“I never said I didn’t want to be creeped on.” She lies on her pillow and stares into the camera. Her screen’s black, and I’m tempted to send her an image. Just me as I am now, wearing a black t-shirt and tight joggers, no mask, nothing covering myself. Just me.
But that can’t happen.
Jackal: You promised me something earlier and never delivered. Maybe I’m sitting here, thinking about how it would have felt.
“Yeah? Tell me more.” She rolls onto her back and I watch her chest rising and falling. And is that… fuck, yes, her hand’s between her legs.
I shift my joggers down and start to slowly stroke myself as I type with one hand. It’s not fucking easy.
Jackal: I’m thinking about you on your knees with my cock in your mouth. You’d moan, because you like the way it tastes. You’d suck me nice and slow, getting my shaft and tip all wet and sloppy, as your tongue slides all around. I’d tell you to put your hand between your legs, because I want you to moan while you suck me off.
“Oh, god,” she whispers as she reads my message. Her hands work under the covers, and she lets out the most gorgeous little moans I’ve ever heard. “I want that. God, I want you here with me right now, your big cock in my mouth. I’d gag on you and that wouldn’t stop me. I’d let you fuck my face, then my pussy, then you could come wherever you wanted.” Her back arches as she gasps and moans.