Vegas Underground Collection: Books 5-8

Chapter 6-2

Junior

“How did you know?” Desiree croaks.

For one bizarre moment, I think she means about her missing son. “Know what, doll?”

“That I hadn’t come?”

I chuckle. “Baby, you never stopped begging.” The woman is off the charts with her s*x noise. I mean, she coulda been a p**n star. I’ve never had a woman show so much appreciation in my life.

“I didn’t?”

“I thought you were being especially obedient because I told you not to come.” I pull out, lift her up and turn her around. She falls back to sit on the end of the sofa, like she’s too trembly to stand. “Were you having a hard time reaching the finish line?”

I don’t know why I’m speaking in metaphor when I’ve already said every filthy thing on the planet to her.

She shoves her thick hair back from her flushed face. “Yeah. It was hard with something in my ass.”

I c**k my head. Again, maybe I misread her. I thought for sure she enjoyed the a*s play. “Because it hurt?”

She laughs, leaning her forehead against my chest like she needs to hide her face for this conversation. “No, it just was different, that’s all. I didn’t want to tighten up when I was being held open.”

I chuckle again and stroke the back of her neck.

After a minute, when our breath has slowed, she lifts her head. “You’d better disinfect the hell out of that counter. I can’t believe you put my bare a*s on it.”

A surprised laugh comes out of me. “I promise I will bleach the f**k out of it. And yes, it was my job to clean up tonight, but I got sidetracked with a phone call. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave the mess for you.”

If anyone who knows me was present, they would shoot me and asked what I’ve done with the real Junior Tacone, because I never apologize. It’s a trait my father taught me. Although maybe he’s also the guy who taught me that none of those rules apply to the woman in your life.

Even not knowing me, Desiree appears surprised. “I was just giving you s**t. If I didn’t feel like doing the dishes, I would’ve just left them for you to do in the morning.”

I smile. I’m glad she knows I don’t expect her to cook and clean for me. The fact that she does it anyway does strange things to my chest. “Good.”

But reality settles back in. Desiree is a mother. She has a five-year-old son I’m going to make sure gets home with her. She’s not going to stick around cooking and cleaning for me. She’s not going to want to bring that boy of hers anywhere near me.

And that’s how it should be.

I’m dangerous. I bring darkness and hatred to everyone around me, myself included.

The last thing Desiree Lopez needs is to get dragged down by someone like me.