Beneath The Pearl Ch. 06

Chapter Six

The Pass

The key slid into the lock on the door with a smooth click. Lucia turned it, and the bolt drew back easily, as if it were brand new and had no weathering or wear and tear. She stepped inside without looking back.

Lara hesitated in the doorway for a second, then followed, shutting the door behind her. The apartment smelled of fresh paint and had that unmistakable chemical cleaner odor in the air. The walls were painted off-white, and there were no pictures hanging on them. The living room was furnished, but in the kind of way that made Lara think everything had come straight out of a brochure or magazine. There was a small kitchenette in one corner, but it was bare. It had a sink, a microwave and a fridge. That was the extent of it.

"This place reeks of depression," Lara said.

"No, it reeks of eligible male bachelor. That is what Mike is supposed to be, so it works for our purposes nicely," Lucia replied as she walked over to the couch and claimed the center cushion, crossing her legs elegantly.

"If you say so. When does Mike move in?"

"He already has. We got him settled in this morning," Lucia said.

"We?"

"Yes. I helped him move his stuff and get bedded in."

Bedded in. I'll bet you tried real hard to do exactly that. Pin him down on those new white sheets and ride him until he forgets Jo's name.

It was at that point that Lara realized something that irritated her even more than Lucia's choice of words. Mike wasn't here, and yet Lucia had let them both in. She had keys to the apartment.

"If he has already moved in, why do you still have a set of keys?" Lara asked, her voice sharp, like she already knew the answer.

"Because if I need to get to him, or he needs me in an emergency, I can get inside quickly."

"Right. Emergency access. For when you're horny." Lara let out a loud snort of disbelief.

Lucia's mouth twitched. "You could be less childish."

"And you could be less obvious," Lara shot back. "What the fuck was with you grinding all over him during his first shift? It was ridiculous! Gambini and Dave were interrogating him, and you had your hands down his pants!"

Lucia offered a casual shrug, her body language radiating a total lack of concern for what Lara thought of her methods. "I was helping to sell his cover."

"Helping yourself to a feel of him, more like."

"That's rich, coming from you. I wasn't the one coming all over his fingers," Lucia said. A knowing smirk curled the corner of her mouth as she saw the color rise in Lara's cheeks.

"That's not the same thing, and you know it. Gambini ordered us to do that. He wanted to win the bet. There was no bet in sight when you were trying to get his cock out."

Lucia rose from the couch and stepped forward. She jabbed a manicured finger hard into Lara's chest, the physical contact sudden and aggressive.

"You are new at this, so let me spell it out for you. We are a team in there. We do whatever we can to help maintain our cover."

"Don't even...."

"I'm not finished! If I have to pretend that I want to fuck the new guy, it helps sell the idea that I'm just some bimbo, and it makes him seem like a player. This is not about you, or me, or Mike. It's about the operation. You need to get that. Mike does. The way he carted you off to the VIP made him look like an alpha male. Gambini eats that shit up. You need to stop worrying about my performance and start worrying about your own," Lucia said.

Lara swatted the offending hand away but bit back the retort that was on the tip of her tongue. The agent's logic was sound, at least on the surface. It was hard to argue against doing what was necessary for the operation without sounding like a jealous, petty amateur.

Yet, as she looked into Lucia's unyielding eyes, Lara detected the lie. It was self-serving bullshit wrapped in a flag of duty to justify her own lust. But calling her out on it again would achieve nothing but more friction, and they had a job to do. Lara decided to holster her objections. For now.

"Speaking of your own performance, give me an update. Any progress with you and Nico?" Lucia asked, taking a subtle step back while softening her tone.

"Actually, yes. I did what you asked, and I called him. I said yes to the date. We're going out tonight," Lara said.

Lucia clasped her hands together in excitement. "Finally! Why didn't you tell me? That's amazing news. I can help you prep!"

"It's a date. I think I've got it covered," Lara said dryly.

"Where is he taking you?"

"Dinner. At some restaurant I've never heard of. And then maybe to a club. That part is less nailed down."

"Great. It's important that this date goes well. Wear something slutty and really dial up your flirting. Get him talking about himself. The more he reveals, the better. Above all else, don't let him go home alone. Make sure he invites you back to his place. Suggest a coffee, another drink, ask to use the restroom, whatever. It doesn't matter how. Just get in there."

"Lucia, let's cut the crap. If I agree to go back to his place with him, he's going to expect sex."

"Would that be so bad?"

Lara gave her a hard stare.

"Just treat that part like any other date. Every guy you've ever been out with has wanted the same thing. Did you always give it to them? Play the game. Make out a little. Is it really a big deal if he gets a bit handsy? I'm sure you've endured worse at the club. If it comes to it, give him a BJ on the couch or something. Whatever it takes to stay in the room."

Lucia paused, waiting for the explosion. But it never came. She suppressed a smile as she watched Lara stare into space, imagining the scenario Lucia had laid out.

She's considering it. A week ago, I'd have gotten a lecture on how she isn't like me. Now? She's imagining his cock in her mouth. Clearly, I'm making progress here.

"Once he is satisfied, you keep your eyes peeled," Lucia continued, not giving Lara a moment to question what she was telling her to do.

"For what?"

"Everything. Anything." Lucia began pacing back and forth in front of Lara, listing items on her fingers. "What is the code to his alarm? If he makes a phone call, find out who it is. Listen in, if you can. Does he have a laptop? Is it Mac or Windows? That kind of thing. Take it all in."

"Okay. I can do that," Lara said, nodding along.

I can do that. Does she mean she can do the snooping? Or did she really just agree to blow him? Time will tell, Lucia thought to herself.

"Outstanding. I'll get you some gear too. A bug, like the one I showed you in your apartment. It's small, so if you pick a good spot, he'll never find it. I only had one, but I'll get more. When you get a second date, I'll have you ready to go with a bug and some sort of USB scraper for his computer."

Lucia looked for a moment like she was about to continue suggesting things for Lara to focus on, but then she stopped abruptly. A frown creased her brow as her attention drifted past Lara to the coffee table. She walked over and picked up the book, her expression souring instantly as she read the title.

The First-Time Father's Survival Guide.

"Is Mike for real with this crap?" Lucia asked.

"I think it's sweet."

"It's fucking careless, is what it is. He's been here less than a day, and he leaves this lying around? What if Gambini or Dave sends somebody over to check him out, and they see it? A baby book screams girlfriend or wife. They'll go looking."

Lucia stared at the cover as if it were contaminated. Lara watched her face, the disgust a little too personal to be purely professional. The book was not just evidence of a baby. It was evidence of Jo. It represented something that mattered to Mike outside of the operation, something Lucia couldn't insert herself into, no matter how many keys she carried or lap dances she gave.

Her reaction to the book also cemented one more thing for Lara. Lucia didn't know Mike. Not really. She was attracted to the mask, not the man. She was wet for the dominant character she imagined Mike to be, unaware of the real Mike. The one who rubbed his pregnant girlfriend's feet and read baby books. That man would never choose a woman like her. He might lust after her, since he was still a man at the end of the day, but he'd never consider her as a serious romantic partner.

Despite that, Lara hated the sight of Lucia holding the baby book in her hand. It felt wrong in a way she couldn't quite explain. She reached out and snatched the book away from her, flipping it face down on the table.

"Okay, this shouldn't be out in the open. We can remind him of that, but he has a life outside of all this. We should respect that."

Before Lucia could respond, they both heard the lock on the front door click. A second later, the door opened, and Mike stepped inside. Lara took in his face. He looked worried.

"Good, you're both here. We've got a big fucking problem," Mike said.

"What's wrong?" Lara asked. His tone and expression immediately set her on edge.

"I just found out that Dave has hired some outside tech firm to do a complete overhaul of the digital security in the club," Mike said.

"Aren't you the Head of Security now? Shouldn't he be asking you to do that?" Lara asked.

"He should, but he isn't."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'm too new, or maybe something spooked him. Either way, I'm not running it," Mike answered.

"So, he's excluding you. It's not a great sign, but it's not exactly a disaster," Lucia said, trying to calm him down.

"You don't understand. One of the things they'll be doing is looking for digital listening devices. They are sweeping for bugs!" Mike exclaimed.

"Fuck!" Lucia shouted.

"What's the big deal? What don't I know?" Lara asked.

Lucia ran both hands through her hair repeatedly in what looked to Lara like an attempt to self-soothe. "About twenty minutes after you and Mike went to the VIP, Dave headed to the office to get Gambini's winnings from the safe. When he walked out with the cash, he left the door open. I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I went in and planted a bug under his desk. The same bug I tested at your place."

"Oh. Shit."

"Yeah. If these guys are halfway professional at all, they are going to find it," Lucia said, her voice wavering.

If I didn't know better, I'd say she was panicking, Lara thought.

"The way I see it, we only have one option. We have to get in there and remove it," Mike said.

"How long do we have?" Lucia asked, taking a deep breath.

"It has to be today. They arrive tomorrow morning. If it's still there by then...." Mike said, trailing off.

"How exactly are you going to do that on such short notice? Dave is in there all the time, and when he isn't, he nearly always locks the door," Lara told him. She knew from experience Dave hated the idea of people being in his office when he wasn't around.

"We wait for him to leave. I have the keys to the entire place. Once he's gone, Lucia and I will get in and remove the bug," Mike said.

"How do you know he won't just sit there all fucking night?" Lucia asked.

"Because I overheard one of Gambini's personal security guys bitching about having to work tonight. Gambini and Dave are going somewhere, and it's not something simple like dinner. He's bringing armed guards. Whatever it is that they are doing, they won't be at The Pearl. It's the perfect chance to go in and get it," Mike said.

"Right. Yeah, this could work," Lucia said, regaining her composure. "But if they are going somewhere with that sort of firepower, we need to know why, Mike. We have to follow them."

"We will. But the bug takes priority. Once we have it, we'll catch up with them. It's half a dozen cars in a convoy. They'll be easy to spot as long as we're quick," Mike said.

"Following them? That sounds dangerous," Lara said.

"Don't worry. We'll be careful," Mike said.

"We know what we are doing. You just worry about your job tonight, okay?" Lucia reminded her.

"What job is that?" Mike asked.

Lara winced, already anticipating the crude way Lucia would frame it. She crossed her arms, trying to shield herself from the words.

"Lara managed to land a date with Nico. He's taking her to dinner," Lucia answered.

"Oh. Well.... good luck with that, I guess," Mike said.

He let out a long breath through his nose. He stared at Lara, shifting his weight and then jamming his hands deep into his pockets. Whatever he was actually thinking, he kept it to himself.

The conversation halted as the silence stretched out between them, thick and suffocating. The only sound was the low, persistent, irritating noise made by the empty refrigerator in the corner.

"Right," Lucia said abruptly, breaking through the silence as she grabbed her purse. "Let's go, Mike. Lara needs to get ready for her date, and my shift starts soon. Lara drove us here, and my car is still at The Pearl. You can drop me there."

Mike paused, watching Lucia disappear down the hall. He turned to Lara, his mouth opening as if to offer a warning. She could see the doubt and conflict in his eyes.

He's worried about me. About what Lucia expects me to do. He wants to tell me not to go. To cancel the date.

"We'll talk later," Mike said simply. He turned and followed Lucia, pulling the door shut behind him.

Lara stood in the empty apartment, staring at the door they'd just left through. She should go home. Have a shower. Shave her legs. Do her makeup. Pick out an outfit. But all she could picture was Lucia in the passenger seat of Mike's car, laughing, touching his arm, and using the ten-minute drive to chip away at his resistance.

Jo's face flickered into her mind next. At home. Alone and pregnant. All while Mike was helping Lara. And helping Lucia, a woman who wanted him in her bed.

The knot in Lara's chest tightened. Jo deserved better than this. She deserved the truth. All of it. Lara had promised Mike she would be the one to explain what happened with the bet. The lap dance. The grinding. The way Lara had orgasmed around Mike's fingers while everyone watched.

If their positions were reversed, Lara would want to know. This was not a conversation to have over text. She pulled out her phone and dialed before she could talk herself out of it. It rang four times before the call connected.

"Hello?" Jo's voice came over the line, low and groggy sounding.

"Oh, fuck. Were you asleep, Jo? I'm so sorry. I'll call back later," Lara said, suddenly feeling even worse that she'd woken her.

"No, it's fine. It's the middle of the day. How would you know? Stay and talk to me."

"Are you sure? If you are tired, I don't want to keep you up."

"I'm always fucking tired, so it makes no difference. Besides, talking to you is the highlight of my damn day," Jo said, her voice coming through clearer as she sat up and shook off the sleep.

"So pregnant house arrest isn't all it's cracked up to be?" Lara asked.

"I swear, if this baby doesn't come soon, I'm sending a team in to get it. There is only so much Netflix I can watch. I think I've binged everything and am circling back to where I started."

"Have you seen...." Lara started to say.

"Seen it. Whatever it is, trust me. I've watched it by now," Jo answered, her voice becoming muffled.

"Are you going somewhere?" Lara asked.

"The bathroom. You can entertain me while I pee for the sixtieth time today."

"Um, this is not really a toilet-sort of conversation. I'll call back later," Lara said.

"Don't you dare. I've barely seen Mike at all these past few days. Don't you abandon me too. You'll just have to power through your discomfort at hearing it."

"I'll try."

"Good. So, update me on all the gossip. Have you seduced everyone in the club yet? Has Gambini fallen to his knees and revealed the location of his secret lair?" Jo asked.

"Not quite."

This was a mistake. I can't do this over the phone. I should go see her. Do this in person.

"Listen, can I stop by your place tomorrow morning? I need to tell you something important," Lara said.

"If you mean the lap dance thing, Mike already told me," Jo said, the end of her sentence being drowned out by the sound of a toilet flushing.

Lara stood there, stunned into silence. If Jo already knew, why wasn't she screaming at her? She swallowed hard and tried to gather her thoughts.

"I realize it sounds bad. Well, it is bad. But see, Dave made this bet with Gambini, and...."

"I know. Mike explained everything. He gave me a play-by-play."

"Mike didn't want to touch me. I had to force him to do it, to make it look real," Lara explained, her words coming fast in a panic.

"Lara, relax. I'm not mad. At either of you."

"You're not?" Lara answered, amazed at what she was hearing.

"I'm not. It sounds like you both handled it well, considering the circumstances. If you had refused to do it, it would have raised red flags. If he had turned it down, they'd think he was either gay, or that he was still a cop. He'd be sunk no matter which it was. You did the right thing."

Well, this conversation isn't going the way I thought it would. I can't believe she isn't jealous.

"I'm still sorry it happened."

"It's fine. You can stop apologizing. I get it," Jo said.

"I'll be honest. It's kind of shocking to me how.... zen you are being about all of this," Lara said.

"Oh, when he started to tell me, I was ready to murder you both. But when the shock wore off, I could see how you were both forced into it. You were performing."

"Not.... all of it was a performance," Lara admitted, the words heavy with guilt.

"Ha! I knew it! Mike thought you faked it, but you really came, didn't you?"

"Um...."

"Alan is lucky if it's that easy to get you off. He must not have to work very hard," Jo said.

Heat flooded Lara's cheeks. She pressed her free hand against her forehead, feeling mortified. "I'm not sure what to say to that, Jo. If you know everything and are cool with it, can we talk about something else?"

"Why? I never took you for the prudish type. I want details. The ones that Mike wasn't able to give me. So, tell the truth. You creamed all over him, didn't you?" Jo asked, her tone playful.

Fuck it. If she wants details, I guess I owe them to her.

"Yes. It had been a while. It sort of just happened," Lara answered, still feeling uncomfortable discussing it.

"And where was Lucia during all of this? Mike said she was watching?"

"Yeah. She was on a couch with Gambini just across from us."

"Did she look pissed?" Jo asked.

"It was hard to tell. Her mouth was full of Gambini's cock."

"You're kidding! Mike left that part out. Right there on the floor? In front of everyone? What a whore!"

Is what me and Mike did really so different? Whatever. If gossiping about Lucia makes her feel better, I'll happily go along with it.

"I know. I couldn't quite believe it myself," Lara said.

"I'm not surprised. But she must be pretty desperate to get in his good graces to just suck him off in front of the entire club," Jo said.

"She's wasting her time. Gambini doesn't like her. Sure, he'll use her as a warm, wet hole, but that's all she'll ever be to him," Lara said, ramping up the crudeness, knowing that's what Jo wanted to hear.

"Really?" The satisfaction in Jo's voice was unmistakable. She sounded almost gleeful.

"Yeah. He's made it clear that he doesn't like 'her type.' I think he has a thing against Hispanic women. Dave kind of hinted that Gambini didn't want to hire her."

"Well, boo-fucking-hoo for her. God, I'd have loved to see her face when he said that, being turned down for once. Must be a first for her."

"I think she suspected it going in. It might be the main reason she wanted me in there," Lara said.

"So Gambini likes you better?"

"It appears so. Before Dave suggested the bet, Gambini was all over me."

"Good."

"Good?" Lara asked. "Jo, I don't want to be within a mile of that creep."

"Obviously. What I meant was, it must really sting that he likes you better. Do me a favor? Rub it in her face. Remind her that she's not the hot shit she thinks she is."

Lara couldn't help but smile at Jo's request. "I'll let her know. Anyway, I'd better go. I need to shower and get ready."

"For what? Aren't you already done for the day? Mike said Dave had you doing morning shifts?" Jo asked.

"It's not a shift at The Pearl. I have a.... date," Lara said.

"A date? Who with?"

"Nico Gambini."

"Wow. He asked you out?"

"Yeah. We're having dinner tonight."

"I'm betting Lucia loves that," Jo said.

"You'd win that bet. She wants me to spread my legs for him before the appetizers even arrive," Lara said, a sardonic tone to her voice.

"Fuck what she wants. What do you want?"

"Honestly, Jo? I don't know. My head is all over the place about it. Part of me wants to cancel. Another part wants to go. And I keep mulling over what Alan said to me when I visited him."

"What did he say to you?"

"Jesus, I never told you this, did I? He told me he didn't want me putting my life on hold and waiting for him. He.... um.... gave me a pass."

"A pass? Like a hall pass? A sex pass?" Jo said. She sounded genuinely stunned.

"Yeah."

"How very enlightened of him."

"I couldn't get my head around it at first. When he said it, I lost it. I screamed at him and stormed out. But the more I think about it, the more I get where he's coming from. And then the thing with Mike happened. That wasn't normal for me, Jo. I don't usually.... get there that fast."

"It makes sense. You said it yourself. It's been a while. There is no shame in admitting that you are lonely, Lara. You have needs."

"Fuck, that is exactly what Sarah said," Lara sighed.

"Well, don't tell her I said this, but she's right."

"Not a chance. Her ego is big enough as it is."

"Look, don't listen to Sarah. Don't listen to me. For sure, don't listen to that cunt of an agent. Decide this for yourself. What do you want to do?"

Lara went quiet. The question hung in the air while she sorted through the tangle of guilt, loneliness, and desire. Finally, she took a breath.

"I want to go and have dinner with him. I want to go dancing. It's been so long since I just did something fun. Just for me, you know?"

"So do it."

"Does it make me an awful person? Am I cheating on Alan?" Lara's voice cracked on the question.

"You started doing all this for Alan. To get him out. And he gave you the pass. Use it. Enjoy yourself. Do what you want for a change. Go have some good food, show everyone up on the dance floor, and flirt with a handsome guy. And then come home."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Or say, screw it. Go back to his place and have hot, sweaty, passionate sex. And then call me tomorrow and tell me all about it," Jo said, giggling at the end.

"You're terrible," Lara said, but she was smiling now, the heaviness in her chest finally starting to lift.

"Let me live vicariously through you. Nobody is inviting my pregnant ass out anytime soon. If I can't have a torrid love affair, at least let me enjoy hearing about yours."

Before Lara could answer her, the phone vibrated against her ear. She pulled it back to glance at the screen. A text notification from Mike sat across the top: Call me when you get a chance.

"Jo, I just got a message from Mike. He wants me to call him. It might be important, so can I call you back later?" Lara asked.

"Yeah, sure. Go on. Leave me here to marinate. I get it. Nobody wants to talk to the baby factory," Jo replied with mock offense.

"I knew you'd understand," Lara said sarcastically.

"Tell Mike I said hi. Remind him who I am, in case he forgets. Oh, and remember to call me tomorrow. I mean it. I want all the details," Jo said.

"I promise."

Ending the call, she immediately pulled up Mike's name. She hit dial. He answered before the first ring had finished.

"Lara, I need to let you know something. I only have a few minutes before I'll be missed out on the floor, but this is important," Mike said quickly.

"Are you at the club?" Lara asked him.

"Yes. I just dropped Lucia off, and I'm in the security camera room. I'm alone for the moment. I couldn't really get into it earlier because Lucia was in a hurry to leave, but if you are going to be spending time with Nico, I feel it's better if you know all the facts," Mike said. His words tumbled out in a rush.

"What facts?"

"I've been reading Price's ledger. He details all the people he dealt with. Who they are, what he did for them, bribe amounts, that sort of thing."

"I know. What does Nico have to do with any of that?"

"It's about what Price did for him. The trouble Nico got into that Price made disappear as a favor to his old man. It involves a woman. A dead one."

***

"Now?"

"Yeah, now. Dave just left his office. They are getting ready to head out, I think," Mike said, leaning close to Lucia so that they wouldn't be overheard.

Lucia gave a tight nod and took point, striding through the club's pulsing crowd as if they didn't exist. Mike found himself studying what she was wearing. It was hard not to. She was mid-shift and so was dressed accordingly. She was showing off a lot of skin.

The bottom half of her outfit was a pair of black micro-shorts. They were tight, and cupped her ass, riding up to expose the lower curves with every sway. Her legs were bare and on full display. She had paired the tiny shorts with a black cropped top that left her midriff uncovered and her breasts heaving against criss-cross straps.

Mike trailed two steps back, his view filled by the dramatic pendulum swing of her hips, the way her cheeks clenched and released in perfect sync.

He tried to ignore the sight. He knew he had to focus. They'd likely get only one chance at this. If the bug was discovered so soon after he had started, he'd be out. He knew that. The timing would be terrible, and he'd be blamed.

As the pair climbed the stairs to Dave's office, there it was again, right in front of him at eye level. That ass ascending, round and firm, capturing his attention once more. He hated how his cock twitched in response, traitorous and insistent.

Stop staring, you creep! Mike admonished himself inwardly, forcing his eyes to the steps.

At the top of the stairs, they walked along the corridor, the noise of the club fading as they reached Dave's door. Mike pulled out the right key and worked it into the lock. The tumblers gave way smoothly. He nudged the door open and ushered Lucia inside first. He followed behind her and eased it closed quietly.

"You said you planted it under the desk?" Mike asked.

"Yeah. There is a bracket thing on the underside of the desk that holds some cabling together. I unscrewed it, made one of the holes a little longer, and stuck it in there."

"Smart."

"I thought so. You brought the screwdriver, right? I had to use the heel of my shoe last time. It took more time than we have now," Lucia said as she moved over to Dave's desk.

"I have it in my pocket. We should...." Mike said, trailing off.

As he had reached the desk with Lucia, his eyes had been drawn toward the sixty-five-inch OLED television, mounted on the wall next to them. More specifically, to what was playing on it.

On the screen was a stunning blonde, utterly naked, kneeling at an equally naked man's feet. She was blowing him, her full lips stretched wide around his thick shaft, sliding down in slow, glistening strokes that took him into her throat. The sound was muted, but the lighting of the scene was professional, and the image was crisp. The quality of the footage led Mike to believe that it had been created by a high-end studio.

"I wonder which one of them was watching this? Dave or Gambini?" Mike said, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen.

"Maybe they were watching it together?" Lucia chuckled.

"Sorry. This is unprofessional. I'll find the remote and turn it off," Mike said.

"Bad idea. We need to leave everything as we found it. He'll expect his porn to still be running," Lucia said.

"This doesn't bother you?" Mike asked, glancing at her.

"Why? Because I'm a woman? Women can't enjoy porn?" Lucia asked him, one eyebrow raised in an arch.

"Well, a lot of these women get treated pretty poorly. The industry is rife with exploitation," Mike said.

"This porn is top-shelf, Mike. She's getting well paid. And she looks like she's enjoying herself. I mean, look at her go!"

Mike turned his head back to the screen. Lucia was right. The blonde had accelerated her assault on the actor's cock, bobbing with frantic energy he could almost feel through the pixels. He watched her throat bulge on the deep dives as her hand pumped the base at incredible speed. Her impressive breasts swayed as her body moved.

"I really like how he's thrusting now. So hot. Oh, she's speeding up. They must be near the end of the scene. Do you think she'll swallow, or will they go for the facial?" Lucia asked in a low voice.

Mike's cock throbbed, now almost fully erect. It tented his pants painfully. He shifted his weight, trying to ease the pressure without drawing attention. His arousal was matched only by his embarrassment at not being able to control his reaction to both the images and her words. He forced himself to turn away from the screen and face Lucia directly. She was looking right at him.

"We should really get to work," Mike said.

"You're right. It's time I joined her on my knees," Lucia said.

Lucia held his gaze, a tiny curve to her lips, then began a languid descent to her knees in front of him. Her body unfolded with deliberate slowness, the motion fluid and unhurried. Her hips dipped first, her thighs parting slightly as she lowered herself, breasts thrusting forward against the flimsy top. Her eyes never left his, her eyeshadow dark and sultry, as she settled onto the carpet. She tucked her legs beneath her, knees together, sitting back on her heels in a pose that screamed submission. She peered up from below, chin tilted, lips parted invitingly.

Mike's eyes bulged, a look of pure shock on his face as he felt his heart race.

"Screw me."

"What?" Mike croaked.

"Can you hand me the screwdriver? I'll need it to get the bug," Lucia said, looking up at him.

"Uh, yeah. Of course," Mike stammered. He reached into his pocket and retrieved it. He thrust it toward her clumsily, nearly fumbling it, as she grasped it from his hand.

"Thank you," she said, smiling up at him wickedly, before she swiveled on the floor, still on her knees but now leaning forward under the large mahogany desk. "This shouldn't take long."

Get a hold of yourself, Hawthorne.

Mike swallowed hard, willing his pulse to slow and his erection to stop straining so obviously. Watching the porn, even for a minute, had been a mistake. It had left him aroused and distracted. His mind had twisted her words into something sexual when she'd clearly only intended to kneel under the desk and ask for the screwdriver. For a moment, he'd honestly thought she had meant something else.

"I've got it," Lucia said, as she removed the pill-shaped listening device from its hiding spot and placed it inside her top and into the cup of her bra.

"Good job."

"Okay, the bracket is screwed back in. Take this," Lucia said as she handed the screwdriver back to him. He pocketed it and then started to lean down to help her up when they both froze.

"Somebody is coming!" Lucia whispered from beneath him.

Mike's head snapped to the office door. He could hear footsteps echoing in the corridor. They were heavy, and it sounded to him like several people. Low voices murmured, too muffled to make out words, but close enough to know that they were about to be interrupted. The sound of a key scraping into the lock made his mind race.

What do we do? There is nowhere to hide. What reason would we have to be.... what the fuck?

Mike's thoughts were stopped dead in their tracks as he felt fingers yank his zipper down. Lucia's fingers. Her hands plunged inside his slacks, taking hold of his rigid cock before pulling it free, quick as a flash.

"Lucia! What the fuck are you doing?" Mike hissed.

She didn't answer him. Lucia lunged forward, engulfing his entire length as she impaled her mouth on him. She swallowed him fully, taking him to the hilt in one expert drop. Her throat convulsed around him as she held him deep.

The door flew open. Dave and Gambini took several steps into the room before halting abruptly, both their faces slack-jawed in shock at what they were seeing. Mike, standing there with a dazed look on his face, while Lucia devoured him. But she was no longer just holding him in place. The two men watched as she slammed her head forward in a frenzied rhythm, deep throating him relentlessly.

She pistoned back and forth, her lips stretched obscenely around his girth, her tits bouncing with each forceful bob. The only sound in the room was of her gagging as she took him.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE!" Dave bellowed.

Lucia yanked back, releasing him with a loud slurp, saliva stringing from her bottom lip to his tip. She stared at Dave and Gambini, eyes huge, face flushed crimson, the perfect image of mortified surprise as she remained kneeling.

"Oh my God!" Lucia shrieked, stumbling backward and struggling to get to her feet.

Mike jammed himself back inside his pants, fingers fumbling with the zipper in his haste. He spun toward the doorway, ready to make excuses and defend himself, only for Gambini to explode in raucous laughter before he could utter a word.

"You don't mess around, do you, Mikey boy? First Lara, now her? And in our office? Ha!" Gambini said while stepping forward and slapping Mike hard on the shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Gambini...." Mike started to say before he was cut off.

"Wanted to pretend to be the big man in charge, yeah? Fuck her on Dave's desk? You pussy hound!" Gambini said with a big grin.

"I'm glad you find this amusing, Sal. I fucking don't," Dave said, glaring at Mike.

"Come on, Dave. Who are we to stop the guy from getting his dick wet? Have a heart!"

"No, he's right. I'm really sorry, Mr. Miller. This was an error in judgment," Mike said.

"Yes. It was. You shouldn't be fucking the girls in the first place.... and certainly not in my office! This is your only warning, Mr. Hawthorne. There won't be another. This had better not happen again, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, sir."

"Good. Now, get out, the pair of you," Dave ordered.

Mike grabbed Lucia by the arm and shoved her ahead of him as if he were escorting a problem out of the building. Lucia teetered a half-step in her heels, then caught herself and hurried with him. The pair rushed out, closing the door behind them.

"That guy certainly doesn't waste any time, does he? He's probably working his way through the entire roster!" Gambini said, still grinning. "Who knew Mr. Bud Light had it in him?"

"Yeah. Who knew...." Dave said.

He stared at Gambini, wondering whether or not to tell him about what he had seen in the VIP on the hidden camera. The fact that Mike hadn't fucked Lara and how suspicious it had looked. But if he did, he'd have to reveal the existence of the cameras, and he was in no rush to do that. So he decided to keep it to himself.

Maybe Mike didn't drag Lucia in here for a quick suck and fuck? Maybe there is more to it. Could they be together? Is that why he didn't fuck Lara when he had the chance? Some misguided sense of loyalty to Lucia? But that doesn't explain why he and Lara were so friendly on the couch together after he came. Lara and Mike know each other somehow and are lying about it. I'm sure of it.

"Get your gun and let's get going. The boys are waiting," Gambini said, interrupting Dave's thoughts.

"Right. It's in the safe," Dave said as he went to collect it.

"I don't know why you insist on bringing it. We have a dozen guys there. If shit goes sideways, one more gun won't make a difference," Gambini said as he watched Dave input the code into the wall safe.

"Maybe so, but it makes me feel better knowing I have it. And if the Mexicans start some shit, I'll be able to take a few of them with me."

"I bet you couldn't hit a parked car on an empty street with that thing," Gambini said.

"Let's hope we don't have to find out."

***

Mike sat hunched in the passenger seat of Lucia's car, eyes locked on the line of vehicles three cars ahead. He was impressed by how well she was doing; tailing efficiently was a skill. Too close, and you drew attention to yourself, but too far, and you risked losing the target.

Lucia made it look easy. She drove with a relaxed grip, navigating the stop-and-go rhythm like she had done this a thousand times before.

The convoy of cars was boxed in by heavy evening traffic. Six vehicles total, snaking through downtown at a crawl. Red lights and crosswalks kept forcing them to cluster, then spread out again. The congestion worked in Mike and Lucia's favor, helping to hide them in the sea of commuters heading home. It was getting dark, though. Mike checked his watch. It was 8:24 pm. He knew the fading light would make it trickier to identify which car was which.

The traffic light in front of them turned green, and everyone started to move. Mike felt nervous at being as close as they were.

"Give them a little more room. Your shift is done, but I'm still supposed to be at The Pearl. It would be disastrous if they spotted us," Mike suggested.

She nodded without looking at him and slowed the car to let the distance stretch. Two cars merged into the gap she had left, giving them an extra layer of separation.

"Yeah, that's good. Let's hold this gap," Mike said.

"If they do spot us, we can pretend you are playing hooky. We are going back to your place to fuck. I think they'd believe it after what they just saw," Lucia said.

"Sure. But let's hope we never have to use the lie," Mike answered.

Mike turned his head slightly, catching Lucia in his peripheral vision. Her face was calm, professional, her eyes tracking traffic. If she was upset or bothered about what had happened back at the office, he couldn't see any sign of it. Her hair was still perfect, lipstick only slightly smudged, as if the last twenty minutes had not happened at all.

But they had happened. He couldn't pretend like she had not been on her knees fifteen minutes ago with his cock buried in her throat. He could still feel the phantom pressure of her mouth, the heat, the shock of the door opening. His heart rate increased just thinking about it.

I need to say something. Acknowledge it. Something like that is never supposed to happen. I need to make sure she's okay.

"Listen, about what happened back in Dave's office. That was really quick thinking. You know, doing what you did. It may have even enhanced my rep with them. I'm just sorry you.... had to do it," Mike said apologetically.

"Don't worry about it. What's a little head between colleagues?" Lucia replied.

Mike exhaled a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding. He felt relief. She wasn't angry with him for what she had been forced to do. She didn't blame him for choosing the wrong time to make the bug retrieval attempt. In fact, she was being kind about it. Professional. Brushing it off like it was no big deal.

"It's big of you to say that," Mike said.

"Not as big as you. Honestly, I wasn't sure I could cope with your size."

Jesus. So much for being professional. Is she joking? Should I joke back?

"Um...."

"But you noticed I did, right? Take all of you?" Lucia continued. Her eyes flicked down toward his lap for half a second, quick as a check of the mirrors. The corner of her mouth lifted, pleased, before she looked back to the road.

"Uh, yeah. I did." Mike shifted in his seat, suddenly aware of how small the car felt.

"I think they noticed too," Lucia said, appearing satisfied by both his answer and physical reaction. "We didn't have time to do anything else, like get up on his desk. With our clothes on, it was the only viable option. But I knew that I had to go for it. Make it look real. You can't really fake a blowjob, you know?"

Why are we still talking about this?

"I suppose not," Mike managed, not knowing what else to say.

"It's a good thing you didn't finish. Dave may have fired us both on the spot if you had made a mess on his carpet," Lucia said with a laugh. "I guess I could have swallowed, though."

Mike said nothing. He could feel her waiting for his response, but he was afraid that whatever answer he gave would only encourage more conversation about something he was eager to move on from.

The car went quiet except for the rhythmic click of the turn signal when Lucia changed lanes. Her casual conversation and tone sent Mike's thoughts spiraling back to the office. To Lucia dropping to her knees. To her diving forward and taking him. The look on Dave's face when he walked in. The feeling as he slid right down her throat. He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge the images.

Focus. To the job, you moron.

"You don't have any mints on you, do you?" Lucia asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"No. I'm not really a mint guy. I've never seen you have any, either."

"Normally, I don't, but there isn't anything to drink in this car, and I figured a mint was the next best thing. I can still taste you."

"Jesus, I'm sorry, Lucia," Mike said.

"No, it's nothing like that. Don't worry. You tasted great. It's just that it's a little distracting, you know?"

I tasted great? What the fuck do I say to that?

Mike's mind ran through every possible response, but each one felt like a trap. Apologize again? Agree? He opened his mouth, closed it, then stared hard at the convoy as if it required his full attention. Mercifully, he noticed that the lead cars were all turning right, exiting the main road.

"They are turning," Mike said.

"Yeah. I actually think I might know where they are headed now," Lucia commented, changing lanes to make the same right turn as the convoy had.

"Really?"

"Yeah. We are half a block away from the warehouse Dave owns. My money is on them stopping there."

"Do you think it's a delivery? Maybe they have already made a deal?" Mike speculated.

"No. Gambini always insulates himself. He would never show up for a delivery. This must be a meeting. Or a negotiation," Lucia said.

"So you think the Cartel has sent someone?"

"That would be my guess."

Mike and Lucia watched as one of the convoy vehicles peeled off, stopping just outside a chain-link gate topped with razor wire. The other five rolled forward through the entrance, headlights sweeping across concrete and corrugated metal. The gate began closing immediately, sliding on a motorized track with a low mechanical screech until it sealed shut with a metallic clang.

"Pull in over here," Mike said.

Lucia steered the car to the curb half a block down, tucking it between a dumpster and a parked delivery truck. She cut the ignition, plunging them into silence. Mike exited first, moving quickly but carefully, scanning the street for witnesses or cameras. Lucia slipped out her side, shutting the door behind her as softly as she could.

"We need to get in there," Lucia said, checking the fence for an opening.

Mike shook his head. "We can't climb that. I don't suppose you packed some wire cutters?"

Lucia's head snapped toward him, eyes narrowed, a scowl on her face. "Why yes, I'll just pull some wire cutters from my bra. I store an entire toolbox in there."

Mike turned to look at her. "Um...."

"Look at what I'm wearing, Mike! I don't even have a single pocket."

"I meant, like, in the trunk of your car," Mike said, looking a little embarrassed.

"No."

Mike tilted his head back, studying the surrounding structures.

The warehouse itself was a four-story industrial box with a flat roof, ringed by chain-link and razor wire. But just outside the fence line stood another building, the one they were parked beside. It looked older, maybe five stories tall, its brick facade crumbling slightly at the edges. The two rooftops were separated by a narrow gap. Mike estimated it to be about the length of a car. Maybe a bit less.

"How big do you suppose that gap is?" Mike asked, craning his neck as he looked straight up.

"What gap?"

"The one between the two buildings. On the roof," Mike continued.

"I don't know. Maybe nine or ten feet. Why?" Lucia asked.

"Yeah, that looks about right to me," Mike said.

He took several steps forward until he was right next to the older building. He wrapped both of his hands around a vertical drainpipe bolted to the wall, and yanked it hard, putting his full weight into the pull. The pipe rattled slightly but held firm. The brackets were old but solid, anchored deep into the brick.

"You can't seriously be considering this...." Lucia asked. Her expression had shifted to alarm, brows shooting up.

"I am. If I can get up there, I can jump the gap to the warehouse roof. I'll be able to see who is in there. Take some pictures. Maybe even get close enough to overhear them," Mike said.

"Are you insane? What if you fall?" Lucia asked.

"I won't."

Mike didn't give her time to argue. He gripped the pipe as he braced his boots against the brick, legs driving upward in powerful thrusts while his arms pulled in rhythm. Hand over hand, foot after foot, he scaled the wall as if it were a ladder. His arms bore most of his weight, biceps straining as he hauled himself higher in smooth pulls. His breath came hard and fast, but his movements were fluid and efficient. The pipe creaked under the load, but he didn't slow down. Within seconds, he was halfway up.

From the ground, Lucia watched him ascend with a mix of shock and admiration. Mike was not a small man. She knew he was at least two hundred pounds, most of it muscle. Yet he moved up that wall like it was nothing, raw strength and power on full display. She had known he was fit, but this was different. This was something else. Her eyes tracked him upward, wide with astonishment. But her eyes held more than just surprise. They were full of lust.

A moment later, he hauled himself over the edge and vanished from view.

Now clear of the edge, he rolled onto his back, chest heaving. He allowed himself a few seconds to recover, then got to his feet. He crossed the roof in quick strides, gravel crunching under his boots, until he reached the gap. Leaning forward cautiously, he looked across at the warehouse roof.

Fuck.

The distance between the buildings seemed wider from up here. A lot wider. What had looked like maybe ten feet from the ground now felt like thirteen or fourteen. He hoped it was just a trick of perspective. Doubts started to creep in.

Well, you're up here now. You'd look a real idiot if you had to climb back down. You can do this.

Mike backed up ten paces, rolling his shoulders and bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. He focused on the building's edge, calculated the run-up, and committed. He charged forward, building speed, arms pumping. At the last second, he planted his foot and pushed off with everything he had.

For a split second, there was nothing but air and the drop below. Time seemed to slow as he soared over the gap. Then, his leading foot hit the warehouse roof. Hard. He stumbled forward, momentum carrying him into a roll before he came out of it and skidded to a stop.

After a few steadying breaths, he moved to the edge and glanced down. Lucia stood below, face upturned and pale in the streetlight. He raised a hand, gave her a quick thumbs-up, then turned away.

Near the center of the roof, Mike spotted a metal access door propped open by a brick. He approached it cautiously, pulled it wider, and slipped through. A narrow stairwell descended into darkness. He took the steps slowly, controlling his breathing to stay silent.

At the bottom, a corridor opened up. To his left was a set of stairs heading down, and to his right was an open door to a bathroom. The final door in front of him led to an office. It was unlocked. He opened it and stepped inside.

He was alone in the room, and the lights were off. It contained a cheap desk, a handful of stackable chairs, storage lockers with peeling paint, and not much else. But the feature that grabbed his attention was the wall of windows stretching nearly from floor to ceiling along one side. Through them, Mike had a clear, unobstructed view of the warehouse spread out below.

This must be the manager or supervisor's office. High up and with a good view so that he can keep an eye on everything. This is perfect.

Mike turned back to the door he had come through and grabbed one of the plastic chairs. He wedged it under the handle at an angle, jamming it tight. It wouldn't stop anyone for long, but it would buy him a few seconds of warning if someone tried to enter. He then walked to the door on the other side of the office and checked it. It was locked.

Good. Nobody without a key is coming this way either.

Satisfied, he dropped to a crouch and moved toward the windows, staying low to avoid being silhouetted. At the glass, he slowly raised his head just enough to see over the sill.

A dozen men were staggered around the large room below. All of them were armed. Near the middle of the room, under the harsh fluorescent lights, stood Dave and Gambini.

They are still waiting. Whoever it is they are meeting hasn't arrived yet.

Mike dipped back down and lay on the floor. He pulled his phone from his pocket and typed a message to Lucia, his thumb moving quickly on the screen.

Hiding in the third-floor office. Have eyes on Gambini. Tell me if somebody else arrives through the main entrance.

***

Lara posed in front of the full-length mirror, turning slightly to check the back.

Yes. This is the one.

The red cocktail dress was the fourth one she had tried on in the space of an hour. Normally, she would never entertain this sort of indecisiveness over an outfit, but today, she couldn't seem to settle on one. Lucia had suggested she wear "something slutty," but Lara was in no rush to follow the agent's advice again. The second-guessing was definitely due to the embarrassment she had endured at the prison, the last time she had listened to her.

But finally, she felt pleased with her choice. Lara smoothed her hands over her sides, checking the fit. The deep crimson dress hugged every inch of her body, the stretchy fabric clinging to her curves as if it had been tailored specifically for her. It molded to her ribcage, cinched at her waist, then followed the flare of her hips before stopping mid-thigh.

Short, but not too short. I won't spend half the night tugging at it.

Her eyes went to the neckline. The V-cut dipped low enough to frame her cleavage, the inner curves of her breasts visible where the fabric pulled tight across her chest. It wasn't obscene, which was important, given the venue.

She had Googled the restaurant and realized that it was unquestionably the fanciest place for miles, and so she didn't want to show off too much or risk spilling out. The dress accomplished that while at the same time leaving no doubt as to what she was working with. It succeeded in being attention-grabbing without being garish.

She shifted her weight and watched the hem ride up ever so slightly on one thigh. She focused in on the way the material stretched across her ass when she moved.

Good. If we do end up going dancing, he'll certainly have something to look at.

She grabbed her heels from the bed and slipped them on, adding three inches to her height. The dress looked even better elevated now. Her legs were longer, her hips more pronounced, her chest thrust forward just enough. The thin straps framed her shoulders elegantly, leaving her arms bare.

Should I bring a coat?

Before she could ponder the question further, she heard the doorbell ring. She slung her purse over her shoulder and headed for the door. Reaching it, she pulled it open and found Nico standing there, as expected.

His gaze swept over her before he met her eyes. "You look absolutely incredible."

"I know," Lara quipped as she closed the door behind her, locked it, and hooked her arm in his.

As they both made their way toward his car, she noted his outfit. He wore the same black shirt and similar fitted pants as he had at the club.

Men have it so fucking easy. Still, he looks good.

He smelled amazing too. Not too heavy or overpowering, but a crisp, masculine scent that hit her as they walked. Nearing the car, he pulled open the passenger door for her. She stopped short, staring at the red Maserati Quattroporte, laughter bubbling up inside her until she couldn't help herself.

"What? You don't like my ride?" Nico asked. He looked confused, but his tone stayed light, letting her know he wasn't offended.

"I like it just fine. It's just that I've seen it before."

"Really? Where and when?"

"About a week ago when you were doing over a hundred and fifty on the highway and almost crashed into me," she told him, giving him a teasing glare.

So this is the "jackass" that nearly collided with me and Mike. It's a good thing Mike didn't pull him over like he wanted to.

"I make no apologies. How could someone buy a car like this and not drive it to the limit?" Nico said, grinning at her as he moved around to the driver's side. "It would just feel wrong."

"Well, I'd rather get to the end of our date alive and in comfort."

"Don't worry. These seats are very comfortable. And they recline. In case we don't make it to my place," Nico said, giving her a wink before he dipped into the driver's seat.

Lara stared across the roof of the Maserati at where he had been a moment ago. An affronted puff of air burst out of her. It was the sound of pure, scandalized indignation.

Did he really just say that?

He'd already slid into the car before she could fire back, the perfect comeback never arriving. Still, as she shook her head and bent low to join him, she couldn't quite keep the smile off her face.

He doesn't lack confidence, I'll give him that.

***

"Stop pacing, Dave."

Dave shot Gambini an irritated glance, but heeded his words and halted his restless strides.

The Mexicans were late, and the endless wait frayed his nerves. He couldn't shake the memory of the last time he had joined Gambini for a clandestine meeting. Three men had been gunned down. Sure, Dave had wanted "The Russian" out of the picture, but the way Gambini had gone about it wasn't something Dave would soon forget. The casual carnage was not the way to do things as far as he was concerned.

To make matters worse, Dave's plan for the meeting had gone to shit. The idea had been to make sure Nico was with them. For protection. And so Dave had very purposefully let it slip to Nico that the Cartel was coming to town. Nico had been eager to join, and the pair had decided to spring his presence on his father at the last minute, so that Sal couldn't say no. The kid would get the involvement he wanted, and Dave would have his human shield. Gambini would never risk anything happening with his son standing beside him.

But then Nico had backed out. For a fucking woman of all things. He'd told Dave he had an engagement that he wasn't willing to cancel. And so Dave was exposed. He loathed the vulnerability almost as much as the waiting.

"This is why you have meetings like this in a club. You can smoke, have a drink, or have a woman while you wait," Dave said.

"You want a bunch of wetbacks showing up at The Pearl? Yeah, that wouldn't look suspicious at all," Gambini countered. "No, this warehouse is better. It's out of sight, and it proves we have the facility to store the amounts we are asking for."

"Well, we should have gotten some tables and chairs or something," Dave said.

"Don't act like you wouldn't still be walking in circles anyway," Gambini said. "If your legs are tired, you can always go sit in the car. Oh, wait. It's my car this week, isn't it?"

"Enjoy it while it lasts, Sal."

"I intend to. It's no Maybach, but it has its charms. I might not give it back!"

Dave didn't take the bait. The ten grand had stung, but watching Gambini lounge in the back of his S-Class stung more. Right now, though, it wasn't worth the petty back-and-forth.

"Oh, and by the way," Gambini added, "I gave Lara tomorrow morning off."

"What? Why the fuck would you do that?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"Sarah does the schedule now," Dave said, his feeling of unease heightening at the news.

"I know she does. And I told her to swap things around. I don't know why Lara is on mornings, anyway. Seems a waste of money-making potential," Gambini said.

She's on mornings because I told Sarah to put her there. To keep her away from you! Dave thought.

"Why give her tomorrow off, Sal? I'd like an actual answer," Dave said, trying to keep his voice even and tone neutral.

"Because Nico is taking her out this evening. He wanted her schedule clear for tonight.... and tomorrow," Gambini said with a grin.

Nico's date is with Lara? That little shit!

"When did that happen?" Dave said through gritted teeth.

"As soon as he walked into the place, Dave. He's a Gambini! Whichever room he is in, he locks onto the sweetest piece of ass like a homing missile. And they can't resist him. He's probably balls deep inside her right this second!" Gambini said with a deep belly laugh.

Before Dave could answer him, or shoot him, one of the armed escorts walked briskly up to them and leaned in close to Gambini.

"They're here, boss."

"About time," Gambini muttered.

Dave watched as two black SUVs with tinted windows rolled smoothly in through the main entrance. One of Gambini's men pressed the wall-mounted control, and the motorized door descended behind them. The two cars came to a stop twenty feet away. Three men emerged from each of the vehicles and approached them in a staggered line.

Six men? Is that it? Dave thought to himself.

They were dressed casually. Each man seemed to be wearing a combination of jeans, plain sneakers, and lightweight jackets that hung open to reveal simple shirts or T-shirts underneath. It was not what Dave had been expecting. He had expected suits. Maybe some tactical gear. Certainly not this. They looked to Dave like a group about to hit a ballgame.

The most disconcerting thing, however, was that none of them appeared to be armed. Whereas Gambini's men flaunted automatic weapons, the Mexicans showed no signs of carrying at all. If they were, Dave figured it had to be something small-caliber. Maybe a pistol tucked into a waistband. The fact that they hadn't come rolling in with a small army should have made him feel better. For some reason, it didn't.

One of them stepped forward ahead of the others and stopped in front of him. He was lean, with slicked-back hair tied into a low ponytail. His face was smooth, with no facial hair to speak of. He had an eerily calm demeanor, as if he already knew the outcome of the meeting before it had happened.

The two groups stood there, staring. Dave thought he could sense the tension in Gambini's men, but the Mexicans looked relaxed, almost bored.

Gambini finally broke the silence, settling the question of who would speak first.

"Welcome, friends. As I'm sure you are all tired from the drive, let's get right to it. My name is Salvatore Gambini, and I'm here as a representative of Liborio Bellomo and Mickey Ragusa, whom I believe you are well acquainted with. This is my associate...." Gambini said before he was cut off.

".... David Miller. Yes, we are familiar with both of you, Mr. Gambini," the man said.

What the fuck? Why do they know who I am? Dave thought, trying to contain the rising panic in his chest.

Gambini, for his part, looked completely unbothered and smiled broadly before continuing to speak. "Of course, you do. I would expect nothing less. But I'm afraid you have us at a disadvantage. You know us, but I don't think I know you. I was told I would be meeting with Alfredito, but it would seem he is not with you."

"You are correct. My name is Santiago Lopez," the man said.

This guy doesn't have much of an accent, and his English is too good. He must have been educated in the States, Dave thought.

"Alfredito sent me. He also sent these gifts that he hoped you would accept by way of an apology for his absence, which could not be avoided," Lopez said, before turning and snapping his fingers sharply.

One of his men stepped forward with a slim black case and flipped the clasps with a loud click that echoed through the warehouse. Then he opened it wide.

"For Mr. Miller, we have a bottle of Michter's Celebration bourbon," Lopez said as he extracted the bottle with both hands and extended it toward Dave. Dave took it from him and examined the label.

This can't be a coincidence. Of all the drinks they could have chosen, they picked premium whiskey? This isn't a gift. It's a flex. We know exactly what you like, and the cost means nothing to us.

"As for you, Mr. Gambini, please accept this Patek Philippe Nautilus, which we hope will be to your liking," Lopez said.

Gambini snatched the watch greedily, sliding the white-gold timepiece onto his wrist. He fastened the clasp with a snap, holding it up to admire the blue dial under the lights. A boyish grin cracked his face.

He can't even see past the shiny present. He doesn't even realize what they are doing. How they are shitting on him. On us.

Dave saw it for what it was. He'd used the same playbook himself on some of the girls at the club. This wasn't a gift between partners or peers. This was more akin to a man giving out presents to a kept woman or treats to a favorite dog. Pretty baubles to ensure loyalty and a quiet reminder of who was really in charge.

"Nice gifts," Dave said, speaking for the first time. "We don't have any for you."

Gambini shot Dave a sharp look, clearly unimpressed with Dave's tone.

Lopez just smiled, showing no visible signs that the comment had fazed him. "Of course. We did not expect any. What we do expect are some assurances," Lopez said.

"What kind of assurances?" Dave asked warily.

"Whatever kind they want," Gambini said, his voice tight, still shooting daggers at Dave.

"It pleases me to hear that. As this arrangement of ours is new, I require some details on how exactly you plan to distribute our product after we have made delivery."

"Why do you care? What we do, and how we do it, is our business," Dave said.

"I very much disagree, Mr. Miller. It is all our business. If you should draw the attention of the DEA onto yourselves and thusly onto us, well, that would be.... unfortunate. For everyone," Lopez said. He hadn't raised his voice, but Dave could detect a sinister undertone.

"Please, Santiago. Ask anything you want. I'm an open book," Gambini said.

"Where are you planning to store it? Surely not here?" Lopez asked.

"Yes, here, but only temporarily. I have two laundromats across town. One public and the other industrial. When you deliver the barrels here, we will use Dave's moving trucks to transport them there over the course of a few days to avoid suspicion," Gambini said.

"Why have you requested delivery of your methamphetamine in liquid form? I must say, we were not expecting this. Crystallizing the liquid is a complicated process. Why not let us complete that step for you and have the crystal ready to sell?" Lopez asked.

Dave glanced at Gambini, whose grin stretched from ear to ear. Gambini looked thrilled to be able to dazzle the Mexicans with his cleverness.

"Innovation, my friend," Gambini said. "I own a massage parlor next door to the laundry. My organization owns dozens, in many states. We move the girls who work at them around, spending a month or two in one parlor, and then we ship them off to the next. From the outside, it looks perfectly normal. We say it creates variety for the customers."

"So you are using these girls as mules?" Lopez asked, suddenly seeing where Gambini was going.

"Yes. A masseuse walks through Grand Central Station with a rolling case full of essential oils? Nobody looks twice. MTA cops? They see a professional girl with the tools of her trade. They don't see the liquid meth sitting in the bottles of oil."

"Interesting. What about the smell?" Lopez responded.

"We mix in oils to mask it. Eucalyptus, lavender, peppermint, that sort of thing. It smells completely normal. Even the dogs can't tell the difference. We also add a small amount of dye to turn the color to amber. It looks like massage oil, and it smells like it. The X-ray machines can't detect it either."

"I see. It sounds like an efficient way to transport it, but you still have the issue of reversing the liquid suspension. You can't sell it as a liquid," Lopez said.

"That's not a problem. We have our own little Heisenberg in a mobile lab. 'Sweet Release Spa Supplies.' Candles, oils, and diffusers. All that crap. We send him to whichever massage parlor the girls deliver to. He drives from state to state, and he doesn't need to cook anything. You've done the hard part for us. He just puts on the finishing touches, and we never need to risk shipping the crystal anywhere. It's already in the city where we plan on selling it. All the major cities, in fact."

Lopez nodded repeatedly, his smile tight and approving. "I'm impressed, Mr. Gambini. If your operation works even half as well as you claim, I'm sure this arrangement will be a long and prosperous one. We will make our first delivery on Sunday morning at 6:00 am. Please make sure your men are here to welcome us and help unload."

"How about some reciprocation? We showed you ours. Now, you show us yours," Dave said.

"Dave!" Gambini barked out.

"I'm just curious how you plan on getting sixty gallons of this stuff past Customs and Border Patrol. You going to shove the barrels up your ass?" Dave said, ignoring Gambini.

"Dave, shut the fuck up!" Gambini said, clamping his hand on Dave's shoulder as a physical warning.

Lopez let out a low chuckle. He appeared less offended and more entertained by Dave's attitude.

"It's quite alright, Mr. Gambini. Your associate has a point. Trust does go both ways. To answer your question, we...." Lopez started to say before the man to his left took a quick step forward and grabbed his arm.

"Patron, neta les va a explicar a estos cabrones como movemos el jale?" the man said.

Lopez didn't move. He didn't speak. He simply stared at the man with dead eyes until the grip on his arm loosened. The other man backed away like a dog that had just been kicked, clearly regretting his decision to speak out of turn.

"As I was saying, we have a variety of methods," Lopez continued.

"A tunnel?" Dave asked.

"Yes, we have those. But there has been a major increase in the use of seismic sensors under the direction of your newly elected king. They are using mobile radar trucks that can penetrate hundreds of feet, too. So we only use the tunnels under certain circumstances. This isn't one of them."

"So what are you planning on doing?"

"We'll go over the wall."

"Do you mean flying?" Gambini asked, suddenly interested now that Lopez was being forthcoming about their methods.

"No. We drive over it," Lopez said with a smirk.

Dave and Gambini exchanged looks of clear confusion.

"Allow me to explain. The wall is monitored by automated security cameras, but we know where they are. We simply knock them out."

"Won't they come looking?" Dave asked.

"Of course, but we know their patrol routes as well. It gives us plenty of time. And we never pick the same spot twice. We knock the cameras out, and then roll in the ramp."

"A ramp? The wall is fifty feet high! How big is your ramp?" Dave asked in disbelief.

"Actually, the highest the wall gets is around thirty feet, and most of it is substantially less than that. Our ramp is more than large enough to accomplish what we need. But it is collapsible. We drive in, assemble it, lower the ramp onto the other side, and drive over. Then the ramp gets disassembled. We clean up any tire tracks, and by the time the patrols arrive, we are long gone. We leave no trace. The only thing they know is that their cameras failed."

"Genius. I love it. You make it sound.... easy," Gambini said.

Fucking ass-kissing sycophant, Dave thought.

"This is what we'll be doing for your first sixty gallons. If everything goes well, we can discuss increasing the amount," Lopez said. "As for payment, our representative will fly to New York next week to finalize everything and sign the paperwork. I trust our earlier figure still stands?"

"Yes. A four percent stake in our Long Island holdings. But enough business. Let's celebrate. Dave, crack open that bottle. I'm sure we can find some glasses for our friends here," Gambini said.

"Unfortunately, I have to decline. We have a long drive home and some more business to attend to on this side of the border before we can begin it. I'm sure we will have a chance to have that drink in the future. Nos vemos, gentlemen," Lopez said, before nodding at them both and turning to head back to the rear vehicle.

His men followed him. The sound of car engines roaring to life filled the warehouse before the two cars rolled out smoothly, the motorized shutter closing behind them. Dave exhaled hard, his shoulders dropping as the tension slowly started to leave his body.

"That went well, all things considered. But you need to learn when to shut up. Why the fuck were you pressing him?" Gambini asked Dave.

"Because he was full of shit. A ramp? Over a wall of that height? Without getting spotted? What a load of nonsense! If you believe that, I have some magic beans to sell you," Dave said, shaking his head.

"If there is one thing that these spics are good at, it's getting around that fucking wall. They've been doing it for generations. I'd believe it. But did you hear the way he talked about President Trump? The fucking nerve! Anyway, we have our delivery. If they don't want to celebrate, fine. But I'm fucking going to," Gambini said.

"Back to The Pearl?" Dave asked.

"Yes. But I need to take a leak first."

"The bathroom is up on the third floor, just past the office. I have a key. I'll unlock it for you. And I may as well use the facilities myself," Dave said.

The two men crossed the bare warehouse floor, their heavy footsteps echoing off the concrete. Dave led the way toward the metal staircase in the corner as he searched for the keys in his pocket. The stairs rang hollow with each step as they climbed.

"You looked so nervous when they pulled up, I'm surprised you haven't pissed yourself already," Gambini said with a smirk as the two men reached the top of the stairs and moved toward the office.

Dave rolled his eyes as he reached out to unlock the office door. With a quick turn of the key, he pushed it open and stepped inside while looking back at Gambini.

"Yeah? Well, you might want to wash your face while you're in here. You were so far up his ass that.... FUCK!"

The chair came out of nowhere.

Dave registered the blur of metal and plastic an instant before it sailed past his face and crashed into Gambini's skull with a loud crack. Gambini stumbled backward, arms windmilling as he grasped for anything that might stop his fall.

Dave wheeled around to find the source of the flying chair. In the dim light, he saw a broad figure sprinting away from them, already halfway to the opposite door. Dave's hand went to his gun, and he pulled it free from behind his back. The movement was clumsy, awkward, and slow, but eventually he lined up the sights and squeezed the trigger.

The shots boomed in the small space as Dave fired three times in quick succession, missing his target and hitting the far wall. The figure vanished through the exit, unscathed. Dave stood frozen, gun still raised, when the pain hit him like a train. He looked down and saw blood spreading fast across his suit trousers. His leg gave out, and he crashed to the floor.

Gambini staggered to his feet as he brought a hand up to his forehead, checking for blood. They heard boots pounding up the stairs, and suddenly the room was full of armed men, all yelling over each other. Light flooded the office as one of them found the switch.

"Get after him!" Gambini bellowed to his men, who streamed past him with their guns drawn in hot pursuit of the mystery figure.

"Argh! Ugh.... Sal, I've been hit!" Dave screamed while clutching his left leg.

Gambini moved to where Dave was thrashing on the ground. He looked down at the leg wound, then at Dave's gun, then back at the wound.

"Whoever that fucker was, he didn't fire a shot, Dave. It must have been a ricochet from one of your own bullets."

"I don't care! Look at my fucking leg!" Dave shrieked, rocking back and forth as blood spurted out of the wound.

"Guess we found out, huh?"

"Found out what?" Dave gasped.

"Whether or not you can hit something with that thing," Gambini said, unable to stop himself from grinning.

"This isn't fucking funny! Call a fucking ambulance!"

"I have a guy. Don't worry. Marco!" Gambini shouted behind him to the man standing over them.

Marco had his own gun in hand and pointed back toward the stairs they had come from.

"Yes, boss?"

"Get Rossi on the phone. Tell him we have a gunshot wound, and he's needed," Gambini said.

"Doc Rossi isn't here, boss."

"What? Where the fuck is he?" Gambini demanded.

"He took his wife to Barbados. He won't be back until next week."

"Take me to a hospital, Sal! I'm not dying on this fucking floor!" Dave said, his eyes squinting with the pain.

"They ask questions at a hospital, Dave. We need to be smart about this." Gambini paused as he stared at the gushing leg, then continued when a thought occurred to him. "What's the name of that doctor you have who tests the girls from The Pearl? Clark, was it?"

"Does this look like a dose of the clap to you? It's a fucking bullet wound! I need a real doctor. For the last time, take me to a hospital. The bullet is from my own fucking gun. I'll say.... ugh.... say it went off while I was cleaning it. Get me out of here! NOW!"

***

Lara played with the napkin that sat beside her plate. The restaurant was even more upscale than she had guessed. Her napkin was linen, and she wouldn't have been surprised to be told that it had a higher thread count than her sheets at home. The entire ceiling was clear-paned glass, offering a stunning view of the night sky, and the spacious room could have fit twice as many tables as were present. It gave the place an air of exclusivity and afforded the diners some privacy due to the open space surrounding them.

She was making good money now that she was back at The Pearl, but even so, she would never have chosen to dine in this sort of restaurant. Nico had ordered a five-hundred-dollar bottle of white wine as if he were ordering a water.

The well-dressed waiter had just left them after taking their order, and Nico was checking his phone for the third time since they had sat down. In the car, he hadn't stopped talking. He had kept the speed down, for her benefit she assumed, but had kept the charm up. It had felt like a good start to the date.

But now, he was acting like she wasn't even there. She was pretty sure that he wasn't doing it on purpose and was just distracted, but she still felt the need to let him know. To snap him out of it.

"So, how about them sports teams?" Lara said, giving him a playful smile.

Nico looked away from the screen of his phone and directly at her. He appeared totally lost for a moment, then his eyes widened in horror as he realized the meaning behind her comment. At just how rude he was being.

"I'm so sorry, Lara. I'm being a complete ass. A conversation black hole. Forgive me," Nico said, putting the phone down and pressing his hands together as if begging.

"Waiting for an important call?" Lara asked.

"Actually, yes. But there is no excuse for my behavior. I'm turning it off," Nico said as he held up his phone and made a show of switching it off completely before slipping it into his pocket.

"If it's business, I get it. You can leave it on. Something to do with your father?" Lara said, trying to subtly probe him for details in a way she thought Lucia would approve of.

"He has a big night. I'm more than a little curious about how it went for him. But he can tell me later. The phone is staying off. Tonight, you come first," Nico said.

"First, but not multiple times?" Lara teased.

Nico let out a low chuckle, his face filled with amusement at how she had jumped on his unintended entendre.

"Check, please?" Nico said, while motioning dramatically toward an imaginary waiter.

"Nope. I'm not leaving until I find out what five-hundred-dollar wine tastes like," Lara said.

"Probably the same as forty-dollar wine. I'm not exactly a sommelier. I was just trying to impress you," Nico said.

"Then I feel like I should tell you that ostentatious displays of wealth don't impress me much."

"What does?"

"Honesty," Lara said.

"So ask me anything," Nico replied.

"Do you mean that?" Lara asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Yes. In fact, let's cut through all the usual first-date crap. Nothing is off-limits."

"You might regret saying that after I psychoanalyze you," Lara said.

"Are you inviting me to lie down on your couch?" Nico asked suggestively.

"As long as the only lying you do is on furniture, and not to me."

Nico let out an appreciative whistle and raised both hands in a gesture of surrender. He looked genuinely impressed. "Okay, I'm outmatched here. I submit to my new wordplay queen."

"I accept your surrender. But if you were serious about being honest, I have a question for you."

"Ask away," Nico replied smoothly.

"When you asked me out, were you expecting a bimbo?" Lara asked. She knew she should be steering the conversation toward Nico's father, but she couldn't resist testing him.

"No. Of course not," Nico said quickly.

"You said you'd be honest, Nico. I won't be offended, and your answer will have no bearing on whether you get laid or not. You don't have to butter me up."

Nico didn't answer immediately. Lara watched the corner of his mouth twitch, fighting a losing battle against a grin that threatened to break through his composure.

"You're imagining literally buttering me up, aren't you?" Lara said, attempting a scolding look but breaking into a smile anyway.

"Guilty as charged."

"That sort of thing is best left to the imagination. Or romance novels. Food play sounds sexy, but mixing sugar with the female anatomy is a recipe for disaster. Trust me."

"You don't have to tell me. Have you ever seen the movie 'American Pie' by any chance?"

"You didn't...." Lara said, her face a mixture of shock, amusement, and disgust.

"Let me tell you, Lara, it's a rite of passage for every young man to try and fuck something from his kitchen."

"I can't believe it!"

"I've just destroyed my image as a suave and sophisticated guy, haven't I?" Nico asked.

"Yes. It's gone forever. But nobody sane would ever admit to doing something like that, so you've proven that you are honest. I prefer honest to suave."

"Well, that's something. And joking aside, it was obvious after spending more than two minutes with you backstage that you weren't a 'bimbo,' as you put it. Why would you even think that?" Nico asked.

Lara shrugged. "People make assumptions. I wouldn't blame you if you just saw a decent pair of tits and decided to go for it."

"Decent? Really? Does Steph Curry have a decent free throw?" Nico scoffed.

"I don't know. Does he?"

"No. He has an exceptional free throw. His free throws are extraordinary. In fact, I think he has the best free throws I've ever seen."

They stared at each other across the table, the absurdity of the basketball comparison hanging in the air. Lara cracked first, starting to chuckle before Nico joined in a second later.

"I feel like I'm not worthy of the title of wordplay queen anymore. There is a super obvious basketball boob joke in there, and it completely eludes me. The only thing I can come up with is to ask if mine are worth two or three points?" Lara asked.

"All the points."

Their banter was cut short by the waiter's return to the table. He presented the bottle Nico had ordered with a flourish, and then dipped it over Nico's glass, pouring him a tiny amount to taste. Nico took a sip and then nodded his approval. The waiter filled both their glasses to halfway and then placed the bottle gently into a silver bucket on a stand that he had brought with him.

As soon as the waiter retreated, Lara sat bolt upright as if something had just occurred to her.

"Palming!" Lara blurted out suddenly.

Nico gave her a confused look.

"It just came to me. The basketball boob joke," Lara said, looking pleased with herself. "Palming the basketball is a violation, right? The same way you might palm my...."

"I get it. And your title is now restored," Nico said, lifting his glass in mock celebration.

Lara lifted her own glass and took a decidedly unladylike swig.

"Wow. I could get used to this," Lara said, savoring the wine.

"I thought you said that displays of wealth didn't impress you?"

"Shut up, I'm allowed to be flighty," Lara said as she took another long drink.

"Enjoy it. The bottle is yours. I'm driving, so I'm just having the one glass," Nico said.

"Ah, so your plan to get me nice and drunk is working beautifully."

"Of course. I'm not foolish enough to just rely on my looks and personality. The other guys on the court need help to keep up with the likes of Curry and his.... free throws," Nico said.

"I'm really going to have to start paying more attention to basketball, aren't I? You're obviously a big fan."

"You could say that. I played ball in college."

"Really?" Lara asked, surprised.

"Yeah. D3 when I was at NYU," Nico said.

"Is that.... um.... good?"

"It's all relative, I suppose. The level of play is better than most pickup games you'd find, but we weren't going to show up on ESPN or anything. Most D3 players know they won't make the NBA. You just play it because you love it and are good enough to represent your school," Nico explained.

"I see. I'm pretty ignorant of the whole thing. I know the basics, but the only sport I would say I have a good grasp of is football. Probably because I cheered a bit in high school," Lara said casually.

Nico's eyes went wide at the revelation. He subconsciously licked his lips.

"Cheered as in, like.... cheerleading?"

"Yes," Lara said, smirking at his predictable reaction.

"I bet the bleachers were packed every game to see you work your.... pom-poms."

Lara's expression suddenly turned stern and undeniably harsh. "Okay, that's two strikes. First basketballs and now pom-poms? If you refer to my boobs as anything else like that for the rest of the night, I'm leaving."

His face dropped, and he looked worried that he had overstepped. "I.... I apologize. I was trying to...." Nico started to say before he saw Lara's facade crack and her face turn into a wide grin.

"Got you," Lara said, giving him a wink.

"That was mean!" Nico said, pointing an accusatory finger at her, but visibly relieved that she had been joking.

"Maybe it was. But I want to keep you on your toes. It should be easy work for you, being an athlete and all. So, Mr. Baller. What did you study in college?" Lara asked.

"Do you still have your uniform?" Nico asked, still stuck on the cheerleading.

"Maybe. But answer the question," Lara replied.

"Business."

"Was that your father's idea?"

"Actually, no. He was pissed when I told him. He wanted me to pick literally anything else, but I had made up my mind."

Interesting. So Gambini wasn't pushing him.

"So your plan was always to go into business with him? Follow in his footsteps?"

"I know. It's cliche," Nico said. Then he dropped into his best movie-trailer voice. "Italian-American son follows mob boss father into life of crime."

Lara didn't say anything, unsure of how to follow up his "mob boss" comment. It felt like an incredibly frank admission. She hadn't expected it. He seemed to pick up on her hesitation.

"Does that surprise you? That I just came out and said it?" Nico asked.

"A little," Lara admitted.

"I told you. Full honesty, and I meant it. Besides, I would never insult your intelligence by pretending otherwise. We both know who my family is and how we make a living."

"Does that mean you aren't going to try and convince me you are in 'Waste Management'?" Lara asked, a sly grin on her face.

"God, no."

"Damn. You are really shattering the image I had of you. This, and earlier you picked the steak off the menu. I was waiting for you to order some gabagool!" Lara said, gesticulating with her hands in the stereotypical Italian manner.

"That fucking show!" Nico said with an exasperated sigh. "It's capocollo! The Jersey accent is just so strong that I guess it.... morphed into that word over time."

"It looks tasty, whatever it is supposed to be called."

"Are you saying you want to try some Italian sausage?" Nico said with a toothy grin.

Lara rolled her eyes so far back into her head that she was worried they might fall out. "Come on. Boo! Boo, Nico. That was awful. Into horny jail with you. Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars, and minus ten points to Gryffindor," Lara said.

She watched him chuckle, but also noticed a slightly confused look on his face.

"Minus ten points to what?" he asked her.

"You've never seen 'Harry Potter'? Really?" Lara responded, shocked that he hadn't gotten the cultural reference.

"Oh. The wizard thing. I get it now. But no, I've never seen it."

"So when Salvatore sat little Nico down in front of the TV as a kid, what was he showing you? The Godfather?"

"Okay, this works both ways! If my sausage joke sent me to horny jail, that comment gets you sent to stereotype prison. Minus ten points to.... Griffsindur for you too!" Nico shot back.

Lara couldn't help but laugh at him. His mangling of the name. The easy banter. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. It was all really attractive. And she had to admit to herself that, so far anyway, the entire date had been the most fun she'd had in a long while.

In many ways, he was a walking red flag. Born into wealth. Cocky, and clearly a player with the ladies. Son of Salvatore Gambini. Part of a dangerous family and living a perilous lifestyle. These were all things she knew she should run a mile from.

But she had no intention of going anywhere. If she were honest with herself, it wasn't just because Lucia had told her she had to be here. She wanted to be here.

She knew he wanted to get laid. It was one of the certainties of life, along with death and taxes. He was playing the game, and playing it well. But Lara was experienced at this, and she was sure she wasn't imagining his sincerity.

His line about honesty hadn't felt fake. It really did seem like he wasn't putting on a show just to get her into bed. He appeared to actually enjoy her company and want to know her better. His next question gave more credence to that theory.

"Now that we are both locked up in our jails, I'm curious. You know what my family does. What about your family?" Nico asked as he took a small sip from his wineglass.

"I'm afraid that answer isn't going to get me released from stereotype prison."

"Tell me anyway. I want to know."

"Both my parents are retired. My mother was a waitress, and my dad worked for the USPS," Lara answered as she played with the stem of her own glass.

"This was nice while it lasted. That's a deal-breaker!" Nico said, making a show of pretending to get out of his seat and leave.

She chuckled for a moment at his slapstick move, but then tilted her head at him. "Which one? You have a problem with waitstaff?"

"No. The damn post office. Picture this. You order something online. Do they deliver it? I wish. They just give you a stupid slip in the mailbox instead. The slip tells a complete lie and claims they 'tried to deliver it, but you weren't home.' Like clockwork. It drives me crazy. So, every time that happens, it's your old man?" Nico said with a hint of exasperation.

"Yup. That was him. Every single time."

"I think they must get some sort of perverse pleasure out of it," Nico said, shaking his head. "And if you complain, the next time they just leave it out in the open for some porch pirate to steal."

"Do the job for a couple of days. You'd change your tune. Believe me, there are easier jobs out there," Lara countered.

"You may be right," Nico said. "And I suppose I shouldn't gripe anymore. My current building has a doorman, so he usually takes the packages in."

"You live in a building with a doorman? Fancy. Way to flex how rich you are," Lara said.

"To be fair, I normally come in through the parking garage. It's not like I get much use out of having one, apart from the mail thing," Nico said.

"So you never tip the poor guy? For shame!" Lara said.

"I wouldn't worry. I've seen the car he drives. He's well taken care of."

"Maybe I'll quit The Pearl and become a doorwoman for your building then," Lara said.

"Visitor numbers to the building would skyrocket, I'm sure."

"Since we're on the subject of career changes, answer me this. If your dad came to you tomorrow and said that he was retiring and he wanted you to take over, what would you do?" Lara asked.

"I'd take you out to celebrate."

Lara dipped her head, locking eyes with him from under her brows in a cool, appraising stare that spoke volumes. The look was obvious. It said, It's time to be serious here.

"Nico...."

"If you are asking if I would go all Michael Corleone and start making promises about turning us completely legit, the answer is a definitive no. Look, the family owns legitimate businesses all over the country. Bars, restaurants, clubs, hotels, dry cleaners, cafes, car washes.... the list goes on forever. You name it, we probably have one or more. But we don't limit ourselves. If there is money to be made, it would be silly not to take advantage of it," Nico explained.

"So you sell drugs? Run girls?" Lara asked quietly.

"Yes. Weed. Ecstasy. Cocaine. Party drugs. Nothing hard. We never touch meth or heroin," Nico said.

"Okay. But I asked about girls, too."

"We have strip clubs. We have massage parlors. We have brothels in the places they are legal and escort services where they aren't. But Lara, and you need to hear me when I say this, none of them are forced into anything. We don't traffic. If they are there, it's because they want to be. You have my word on that."

"Nico, I know you may believe what you are saying, but I find it hard to swallow that line," Lara said, knowing that if Lucia could hear her talk right now, she'd throw a complete fit. But at that moment, she didn't care. She wasn't going to back down on this issue.

"Sure, and that's understandable. But look at you. Did anyone force you to work at The Pearl?" Nico asked.

Actually, yes, she thought to herself. But she knew he had a point.

"Don't misunderstand me, Nico. I know what year it is, and I agree that many of these women get into this by choice. I was one of them. I'm all for people choosing sex work as a career path if that's what they want to do. But you can't be so naive as to think that a portion of these women don't feel trapped. Some of the girls who work in your clubs and as escorts are undocumented, right?"

"I'm sure a number of them are, yes."

"So what options do you think they have?" Lara asked.

"Does the single mother who works at McDonald's have more options? Does the father working three jobs to support his family have a bunch of choices available to him? Do you think he wants to do that? He does it because he has to. I'm not saying you are necessarily wrong, Lara. It sucks that people have to do things they might not want to. But that's life. And it's not my job to fix society."

Lara nodded her head slowly at his answer but didn't say anything.

"Does that answer upset you?" Nico asked.

"I don't know. Maybe?" Lara answered before taking a beat to think about her words. "Look, if somebody wants to get high, they will. If a guy wants to pay for sex, and a woman is willing to sell it, where is the harm? I'm with you on that. Part of me thinks you are filling a demand that will always be there. But then I see the junkie begging in the street when I drive to work. Or I see some sixteen-year-old girl who barely speaks a word of English, working some corner downtown for her pimp. And I struggle with it."

"You should struggle with it. So do I. But as I said, we don't do that. That junkie didn't end up there because of us. The girl, too. That's not what we are about."

Lara knew nothing more could be gained by continuing down this road. She had to let it go.

"Pretty heavy stuff for a first date, huh?" Lara said, smiling to break the tension.

"Yeah. But I'd rather do this than talk about the weather, or who got voted out on 'Desperate Has-Been Island' this week."

"How dare you! I love 'Desperate Has-Been Island,' I'll have you know!" Lara said, bringing a hand to her chest in mock offense.

He smiled back at her, the mood lifting somewhat.

"Want to hit the trifecta? Do politics and religion next?" Lara joked.

"Oh, don't get me started on those crooks in Washington. Some of what we do might be illegal, but we will never be half as bad as those vultures," Nico said, scrunching his nose up.

"Vultures? I mean, they aren't perfect, but most of them are just trying to make the country better, no?"

"Not a chance. Let me tell you, the biggest gang in this country isn't MS-13 or the Crips. It's Congress. Look at Pelosi. The best example of insider trading you will ever see. She has broken dozens of laws and enriched herself to the tune of three hundred million since she got into office. This isn't a Democrat versus Republican thing, either. They are all at it. All of them with skeletons in their closets. Corrupt bunch of hypocrites. And they call us criminals!" Nico said.

Okay. Steer clear of politics. Got it.

"Don't hold back, Nico. Tell me how you really feel," Lara teased.

Nico's face softened as he took the hint. "I'll get off my soapbox. You didn't come here to listen to me drone on about politics."

"Why did I come here?"

"I've been asking myself that question all night and thanking my lucky stars."

"Nice save," Lara told him. "But forget about their skeletons. Where are yours hidden?"

"You first."

"I keep mine under my bed, next to my go-bag," Lara quipped.

Don't joke. This is a good opportunity to ask him about what Mike told you. Test him. See what he says, she thought to herself.

"You have a go-bag?" Nico asked, not sure if she was being serious.

"Of course I do."

"Preparing for the zombie apocalypse?" Nico asked.

"Yes. You've got to be ready. But forget zombies. Let's circle back to skeletons. Have you ever been arrested?"

"I have."

"What for?" Lara probed, leaning forward without realizing it, anticipating his answer.

"You sort of guessed it earlier. Speeding," Nico said with a smile.

He's lying.

Lara knew he wasn't telling the truth. Mike had told her earlier in the day about what had happened. About the trouble Nico had gotten into and what Captain Price had helped him with, all detailed in the former captain's ledger.

According to Mike, during Nico's time at NYU, he had brought his college friends home for spring break, inviting them all to stay with him. He had been one of twelve people at a house party when one of the group, a nineteen-year-old girl, had been found floating face down in the backyard swimming pool. Dead.

There had been alcohol and drugs present, and this, coupled with the dead girl, was more than enough to launch a formal investigation. Gambini had stepped in for his son, and Captain Price had put a stop to it. The death was ruled an accident. The investigation ended. No charges were ever filed, and the autopsy that had been performed never saw the light of day. Nobody would ever know what she had in her system. The semen found inside her had never been DNA tested.

Mike saw this as reason enough to suspect Nico of foul play. Lara didn't. A year ago, she herself had been at a similar frat party where a death had occurred. Rob's death. And she'd had nothing to do with that.

And so she wasn't going to presume Nico's guilt. To her, it was perfectly understandable that he didn't want to disclose that event to her, regardless of his earlier pledge of honesty. He was entitled to have some secrets. She didn't judge him for it.

The waiter arrived, interrupting her thoughts as he placed their plates down in front of them. A thick ribeye sat sizzling on Nico's plate, while hers was a delicious-looking risotto. She dove in immediately, eager to see how it compared to the cheap stuff she usually had. They ate in silence for the next two minutes, both content to just enjoy the meal.

"Happy with your choice?" Nico asked, watching as Lara devoured another mouthful of her dish.

"It's exquisite. Here, try some," Lara suggested.

She scooped a generous sampling onto her fork and leaned forward, lifting herself slightly out of her chair to offer it to him. As she extended her arm, the movement caused the neckline of her dress to dip. She saw his eyes leave the food she was presenting to him and fixate on her cleavage, on the swell of her breasts. They stayed there even as he opened his mouth to take the risotto off her fork.

He chewed for several seconds, his eyes finally leaving her chest as she sat back down.

"Well?"

"Yes. I like them a lot," Nico said.

"Them?" Lara asked, latching onto his slip of the tongue.

"It. The.... risotto. I like it a lot," Nico said, looking flustered for the first time since the night began.

"Uh-huh. I caught you looking, by the way," Lara said.

"I'll have to be more stealthy next time and hide my ogling better," Nico shot back, trying to regain some of his swagger.

Lara held his gaze, her eyes darkening with a heavy, hooded look that dripped with invitation. She lowered her voice to a soft murmur.

"Don't. You have my permission to ogle away."

Nico cleared his throat roughly, his face turning red as he averted his eyes and pretended to check his watch, though she doubted he even registered the time.

Lara smirked faintly, enjoying his discomfort. It felt good to pierce his cool facade. But then her eyes were drawn to the watch he had checked.

Seriously? Mike and now Nico, too? Are watches making a comeback or something?

"You do know that your phone has a clock on it, right?" Lara asked him.

"Oh, this? I don't usually use it for that. I just wear it."

"Why?" Lara asked.

"I guess because my father always does? He likes to say, 'Every man should own a good watch.' It's a status thing, I suppose."

"Seems a bit pretentious, if you ask me," Lara countered.

"Maybe. Let me put it to you this way. Do you own a pair of Louboutins?" Nico asked her.

"Yes, but those are shoes. I'm talking about watches. That's different," Lara said.

"Is it? Are your thousand-dollar Louboutins more comfortable than your eighty-dollar heels? Do they always look better?"

"Okay, I see where you are going with this," Lara said.

"Right. People see them on you, the red soles, the heel, and they immediately know what they are. And then they know something about you too. A watch is like that," Nico said.

"So your watch screams 'I'm rich' to the world?" Lara asked.

"We all have to use what we have. Having money is an asset. It would be like a beautiful woman wearing a necklace to highlight her.... um...." Nico said as his eyes dipped to her chest once more.

"Tits? Melons? Fun-bags?" Lara said, cocking her head to one side.

"I was searching for decolletage, actually," Nico replied.

"Sure you were."

"I suppose it was a poor example, anyway. You aren't wearing a necklace," Nico said with a smile as he took another drink of his wine.

"Yet. I'm sure you can help me with that later...." Lara said as she lowered her lashes and stared at him, parting her lips in an attempt to look as sultry as possible.

Nico choked, wine nearly escaping his mouth and spraying the tablecloth as he struggled through some combination of a laugh and a cough. "Fucking hell."

"Diamonds, Nico. Diamonds. What else could I have meant?" Lara said, feigning innocence.

"Remind me to thank Sarah properly for introducing us," Nico said.

"I'm sure she'd love a necklace too. I could help you give her one, if you'd like," Lara said nonchalantly.

"Wow. You have to join me in horny jail for that one," Nico said.

"Oh, I'm there," Lara shot back.

"Do we get time off for good behavior?"

"For bad behavior, Nico."

"I can do that."

She took another bite of her food and then thought for a minute while chewing.

"At least I know what to get you for your birthday. I would have never even considered a watch. I guess I'm not used to seeing them anymore. My dad never wore one. My brother doesn't either."

"Any other brothers or sisters?" Nico asked.

"No, just Shawn. You?"

"I'm an only child. I always thought it would be cool to have a brother," Nico said. He paused, studying her for a moment before continuing. "Can I ask you a personal question? You don't have to answer me if you'd rather not," he said, his tone gentle.

"No, they don't know what I do for a living," Lara answered, already knowing what he was going to ask. She decided to keep her mother's recent revelation that she knew about the stripping to herself.

"I see. I can understand that."

"How about you?" Lara asked.

"What do you mean?" Nico asked, unsure of what she was getting at.

"Do your parents know you are out with a stripper?" Lara asked with a smirk.

"My dad does. I told him. That reminds me. He gave you tomorrow off. So you don't have to worry about.... an early start."

Presumptuous. But smooth too.

"So you can buy me breakfast. Nice. I see what you did there," Lara said, admiring the move.

"The thought never crossed my mind," Nico replied.

"Okay, so your dad knows. How about your mother? Does she know about me?"

"She's long dead, so I doubt it," Nico said, grinning at her.

Lara's face dropped. His answer had been altogether unexpected, and she wasn't sure what to say.

"It's fine," Nico reassured her, picking up on her dismay. "You couldn't have known. My dad says that she wanted a home birth, and well.... it went wrong. I never knew her."

"Fuck. I'm sorry. See, this is why topics like this aren't suitable for a first date. I just made it weird," Lara said.

"No, you didn't. I'm glad you know. I want you to know about me. And I'm not sore about it. It was just one of those things. It's not like I lost something. I'd never had it to begin with," Nico said.

Lara zeroed in on his face as he talked. She didn't believe him. His words said one thing, but his eyes looked sad.

"That's a really admirable way to look at it. Still, I'm sorry for your loss," Lara said, reaching across the table and squeezing his hand in hers.

"Yes, my life is tragic. The clothes, the cars, the money. None of it can fill the hole left in my heart. Only the love of a good woman can get me through the day," Nico said dramatically.

He's deflecting. Making jokes to avoid it. I need to let him.

"In that case, you're screwed. A good woman? There's nothing good about me," Lara said, raising her eyebrows twice suggestively at him.

"I've seen you on stage, so I know that's completely untrue."

"That's a decent point, actually. There is no mystery left, is there? You've already seen me naked."

"You are absolutely right. Fair is fair," Nico said as he pulled his hand from hers and reached up to start unbuttoning his shirt.

"Stop! Jesus, Nico," Lara said in a low whisper, her eyes darting around the restaurant.

"What's the matter? I never took you for the timid type. If you can get naked for a crowd, why can't I?" Nico said, still undoing his buttons, a large portion of his chest now showing.

"Because I do it in the club. Look where we are! They'll throw us out!" Lara said, her eyes still flitting about, searching for the telltale sign of management rushing toward them. She was genuinely starting to panic at his antics.

Nico brought his hands away from his shirt and gave her a hard stare. The playfulness disappeared in an instant. In its place was a look of lust and raw intensity.

"Lara, the management here knows who I am. I could get out of this chair, strip completely naked and make love to you on this very table. They wouldn't bat an eye."

She was taken aback both by his words and his shift in demeanor. His stare was unnerving but also hot. Primal. And she believed him. Every word.

For a brief moment, she imagined it. She pictured him sweeping the plates off the table, picking her up and throwing her down onto the fancy tablecloth, pinning her there as she looked into his eyes. Images filled her mind of him ripping her dress open, exposing her to the entire room as he drove into her, fucking her for all to see. She felt her nipples harden and could tell she was becoming wet.

She knew right then that she was going home with him.

"Check, please," Lara said, repeating his earlier joke.

***

Mike pushed through the door of his new apartment, Lucia close on his heels. He strode to the center of the living room, adrenaline still surging through his veins as his hands trembled at his sides. His breathing was short and fast as he crossed to the window and pried apart the blinds with two fingers, scanning the street below for signs of pursuit.

"Mike, nobody followed us. I wouldn't have taken us back here if they had. They lost you when you jumped the roof, and they didn't see you climb back down the drainpipe. Everything is fine," Lucia said, shutting the front door and moving toward him.

"It's not fine. I got careless, Lucia. I could have been shot," Mike said, turning away from the window to face her.

"But you weren't."

"Yeah, through dumb luck. I'm a fucking idiot. I should have been paying attention. When the Mexicans left, I.... I turned away for a second to text you. I had my head buried in my phone and didn't see Dave and Gambini climb the stairs. They practically walked in on me."

"And you handled it. You said in the car that the office lights were off, right? You said that they didn't see you? We have the photos you took of the Cartel guys. I'll get them analyzed to find out who they were. It all worked out. You need to relax," Lucia said, looking at his hands.

Mike followed her gaze down to his own hands. They were still shaking.

"It's the adrenaline," Lucia said, taking a step toward him.

"I know. I've taken fire before. More than once. But I've never reacted like this. I don't know what's wrong with me," Mike told her, clasping his hands together to stop the tremor.

But as his eyes darted around the room, he saw the baby book on the table. In an instant, he knew exactly what was wrong. The difference was obvious. Before, getting shot meant dying. Now, it meant letting his child grow up without a father. It meant leaving Jo alone. And those two things changed everything.

Lucia moved even closer to him, invading his space. "You need to slow your breathing. Think about something else."

"I know the theory, but it's not that easy," Mike replied.

"Here, give me your hand."

She grabbed his hand in her own and placed it at her sternum, about an inch above her cleavage. "In for three seconds, hold it, and then out for three. Just like this."

Mike felt the heat coming off her bare skin as she pressed his palm flat against her chest, just above her breasts. Her hand covered his, holding it firmly in place. She inhaled slowly, her chest rising beneath his touch. He forced himself to match her rhythm, drawing air in deeply and exhaling with control.

"Better. Now, keep doing that, and feel your pulse slow," Lucia said.

Then, without warning, she slid his hand lower. It dragged down over her skin and then over her top. He felt her guide his palm onto her left breast. She was still wearing the same crop top from her earlier shift at the club, and the thin material did nothing to mask the weight and softness filling his grip as she pressed his fingers firmly into her flesh.

"Feel it. My heartbeat. Keep breathing like this until you feel your heart rate match mine."

Mike's eyes widened. He couldn't feel her heart beating. What he absolutely could feel was the full, heavy weight of her breast in his hand. The warmth of it, the way it yielded deliciously under pressure. He tried to gently pull away, but her grip was firm. She pressed his palm even harder against her.

"Lucia, this isn't appropriate," Mike said.

"It doesn't bother me, and you need this. Now, stop talking and focus on your breathing," Lucia commanded.

They stood there for nearly a minute. Her breathing was slow and deliberate, each inhale pressing her breast more firmly into his hand while each exhale felt like a subtle release. She smiled at him, warm and encouraging, as if this were perfectly normal.

"This sort of reaction is common. I've seen it before, many times," Lucia said between her breaths. "My instructor at Quantico used to call it the three F's."

"I thought it was just fight or flight? What's the third F?" Mike asked.

"Fuck. This is your body's way of letting you know you are still alive. Don't fight the feeling. Lean into it. I can help, if you want," Lucia said.

"Help?"

"Let me help, Mike. I want to. We can finish what we started earlier. Without interruption this time. I'll get on my knees and take you again. Not for show. For real. I'll take you deep. Swallow you whole. Worship your cock," Lucia said, her voice low and sultry.

"Lucia!" Mike exclaimed, his face filled with shock at what she was saying.

"Shush. Your body wants it. You should give it what it wants. What it needs. You need release. Let me be the one to take you there. And when I've swallowed your cum, we can go to your bed. You can lie back. I'll do all the work. I'll ride you, make you feel so, so good. Make you feel alive. Imagine how good it would feel, my pussy surrounding your cock. Milking you for as long as you want. Nobody has to know. It would just be us. Let me do this for you, Mike. Let me fuck you."

Mike couldn't believe what he was hearing. What she was saying. She was actually propositioning him. She was offering to fuck him. His mind reeled. Jo's words rang in his ears. She had been right. Lucia did want him. He knew he had to stop this.

He tried to pull his hand away from her breast, but her grip locked down. He yanked harder, twisting sharply until his hand finally tore free.

Mike thought he saw a flash of something on her face, an emotion he didn't quite recognize. Anger maybe? But there was another element to it. Before he could put his finger on it, the expression was gone, and she broke into a wide smile.

"Look, I don't know whether I've given you the wrong idea, but I can't...." Mike started to say before she cut him off.

"Mike! Stop. Look down at your hands," Lucia said, grinning at him.

He glanced down at his hands. They were perfectly still. No shaking. Not a single tremor.

"Oh," Mike murmured.

"You're welcome."

"So all that stuff you just said was...."

"Shock therapy. I needed to distract you. Get your mind focused on something else. And it worked. Although the blood might be rushing somewhere else instead," Lucia said, letting her eyes fall to his crotch.

Embarrassment flushed through him. She could clearly see the evidence of what her words had done to him. But beneath that was relief. She hadn't meant a word of it. She'd been playing him, trying to snap him out of it. And it had worked. He knew he shouldn't have doubted her or questioned her intentions.

"Well, effective or not, I doubt they teach that at Quantico."

"No, that one is all mine," Lucia said. "Are you good?"

"Yeah. I'm good."

"In that case, send me the photos you took. I'll find out who our mystery Cartel guys are in the morning. For now, I'll head home, and you can get some sleep. And you can take care of that.... situation I think I caused," Lucia said, giving him a sly wink before turning on her heel and heading for the door.

Mike exhaled a long breath as he watched her go. He ran his hands through his hair and then gave a mirthful laugh at what had just transpired.

Keep your ego in check, Hawthorne. Not every woman out there wants to jump you. "Magic Mike" indeed. Lara would probably find this hilarious.

Shaking his head, he made his way to the bathroom. He needed to call Jo and check in for the night, but the desire to get clean felt stronger.

Mike reached into the shower stall and twisted the knob, waiting as the pipes groaned to life. He stripped off his shirt, then his slacks and boxers. He kicked them into a pile on the floor and then reached into the stall to test the water with his hand. Happy with the temperature, he stepped into the shower and stood under the spray. He let out a sigh as the hot water hit his face and body.

It felt amazing. But as he stood there, letting the water bounce off him, his mind wandered back to her words. At what she had said. And he couldn't help himself. He reached out and gripped his rock-hard cock. It throbbed in his palm. He started to stroke.

He closed his eyes, and images of Lucia filled his head. In his imagination, he didn't stop her. He didn't pull away. She dropped to her knees right there in his living room, looking up at him with those dark eyes as she took him into her mouth. Deep. All the way.

In his mind, he could see her lips stretched wide around his shaft. He reveled in how her cheeks hollowed as she sucked. Her tongue swirled around the head before she plunged down again, taking him deeper. She gagged on him. He loved it.

He placed one hand on the shower wall and kept stroking with the other as he pictured her working him with that perfect mouth. He could see spit dripping down her chin as she worshipped his cock like she'd promised. The heat of the water on his cock let him simulate the wet heat of her surrounding him. His fist was a surrogate for the tight constriction of her throat.

He grabbed her head with both hands and thrust. She moaned around him, the imagined vibration sending real sparks up his spine. Her hands gripped his thighs as he fucked her face, harder and faster, watching her sexy eyes water but never look away.

The fantasy shifted. Now, she was on top of him, riding him just like she'd described. He was lying on his bed as she straddled him, naked and perfect. Her lips parted in pleasure, head tilted back as she rolled her hips. Her nipples were hard and almost begging to be touched. She leaned forward, hands braced on his chest as she grinded down on him.

"I told you I'd do all the work," Lucia purred. "Just lie back and let me take care of you."

She sat up tall and lifted herself until only the head of his cock remained inside her. She hovered there, holding his gaze, then dropped her full weight back down in one hard stroke that took every inch of him. At the bottom, she clenched around him before rising and doing it again. And again. Each drop made her breasts bounce and settle, her nipples standing out against her skin.

He could imagine exactly how it would feel. The slick heat of her pussy sliding up and down his length, gripping him so tight, taking him perfectly. He watched her throw her head back and moan his name as her dark hair moved wildly around her. She rode him harder. Faster. He pumped his own cock in the shower to match the tempo that he saw in his mind.

Mike watched himself grab her ass with both hands, the same ass he had lusted after on the club stairs. He imagined squeezing roughly and pulling her down harder onto his cock with every thrust, watching her tits bounce wildly as she gasped and begged for more.

Then she stopped bouncing. She sank all the way down and stayed there, fully seated, and began to grind in small, tight circles, never lifting off him. The friction was relentless. He could feel her squeezing him on every rotation, a slow, rhythmic pull that started at the base of his cock and traveled all the way to the tip.

"Feel that?" she whispered, leaning down until her breasts brushed his chest. "I could milk you like this all night."

He felt the mattress dip beside him. He turned his head, and Lara was there.

His mind didn't bother explaining how she had gotten there. She was just there, lying next to him on the bed, naked, propped up on one elbow with her brunette hair spilling over her shoulder. Her breasts pressed against his arm, full and impossibly high, in a way no other woman could match. She was watching Lucia ride him with an expression he had never seen her wear in real life. Amused. Like she found the idea of him fucking Lucia funny. But there was lust there, too.

Under the spray, Mike knew he should open his eyes. He kept them shut.

Lara leaned in until her lips brushed his ear. "Look at her," she whispered. "She's wanted this since the minute she walked into your life. Did you see her face at the club, during the bet, when you had your fingers inside me?"

Her tongue traced the edge of his ear, and a shiver ran through him.

"But you weren't thinking about her then, were you?" she went on. "You were thinking about me. About how wet I was. About how fast I came for you. Imagining how good it would feel to fuck me with more than fingers."

Mike groaned. Lucia rolled her hips harder, refusing to be outdone.

Lara took his hand and placed it on her breast, pressing his fingers into the soft, firm weight of it. It filled his palm and then some. When he squeezed, it gave beneath his fingers and sprang back. He'd felt them before. He didn't have to guess. She arched into his touch with a soft sound of approval.

She kissed him. Softly at first, her lips barely brushing his, then deeper, her mouth opening and her tongue sliding slick and warm over his. Her hand cupped his jaw and held him there while Lucia kept rolling her hips on top of him. It was nothing like the brief whiskey swap during her lap dance. This was much more, and it went on until he was dizzy with it.

When she finally pulled back, she was breathing as hard as he was. She rose onto her knees. "No fingers this time. I need your mouth."

She swung one leg over his head and lowered herself onto his face, facing Lucia.

The first taste of her was sweet and slick and hot. He ran the flat of his tongue up through her folds, from her entrance to her clit, and Lara's whole body shivered above him. He did it again, taking his time, then sealed his lips around her clit and flicked his tongue over it in quick, tight circles.

"Fuck, yes. Right there," Lara gasped. Her hips began to rock, grinding against his mouth, chasing the pressure.

In the shower, water ran over his face and into his open mouth. In his mind, it was her.

He gripped her thighs and pulled her down harder, pushing his tongue inside her before sliding back up to her clit. His whole world had narrowed to the heat of her against his mouth and the soft insides of her thighs pressed to his cheeks. He couldn't see Lucia anymore, but he didn't need to. He could feel her still riding him, and hear her moaning just beyond Lara's gasps.

"I needed this so badly," Lara panted. "You have no idea how long it's been. Since Alan went away, nobody has touched me. Nobody but you. I've been so alone, Mike." Her voice cracked on his name. "But you're always so good to me. You always look out for me. God, I wish...."

She never finished. He sucked her between his lips, harder than before, and whatever she had been about to say dissolved into a long, shuddering cry.

On top of him, Lucia's hips slowed.

"You are distracting him. Go bother someone else. He's mine," she demanded.

Lara opened her eyes and looked at her, their faces only inches apart over Mike's body. "Since when?"

Lucia stopped moving entirely. "Since I had his cock in my mouth earlier tonight."

"That little suck in Dave's office? That was nothing," Lara said, Mike's imagination somehow giving Lara knowledge she couldn't have. "I gave him the real thing a year ago. He couldn't resist coming down my throat."

"You are so jealous. It's pathetic. You've had him all to yourself for so long, now I'm here, and you hate that. Hate the competition," Lucia said.

"Jealous? Of you?" Lara laughed, a short, cold sound. "Mike and I have history. You're just the new girl. You can't compete."

Lucia's eyes narrowed. "I won't need to compete when you're gone."

"Big talk. Let's see you try."

Lucia lifted herself off him in one smooth motion, and Lara swung her leg back over his head. A second later, they were both kneeling upright on the bed near his legs, facing each other, naked and flushed and glaring. Neither one looked ready to back down.

Mike sat up, his cock standing slick and aching between them, and rose onto his knees.

"Ladies," he said, sliding a hand around the back of each of their heads. "Let's all just get along."

He drew them toward each other, his hands firm on the backs of their heads. For a second they resisted, eyes locked, neither one willing to move first. Mike didn't give them the choice. He pulled them in the last few inches himself and pressed their mouths together.

It started out almost hostile, and then it was anything but. Lucia's hand slid into Lara's hair and fisted there. Lara's tongue pushed into Lucia's mouth. Their bodies came together, Lara's breasts mashing against Lucia's, soft flesh flattening and spilling around each other, hard nipples dragging across skin. Lara moaned into the kiss. Lucia answered with a moan of her own.

Mike knelt beside them with a hand still on each of their heads, watching the two women who could barely stand to be in the same room together devour each other. It was the hottest thing he had ever seen.

In the shower, he pressed his forehead against the tile, his fist never slowing.

When they broke apart, both of them breathing hard, he looked at Lara. "Show Lucia there are no hard feelings."

Lara smiled. It was a wicked smile, and she turned it on Lucia.

Lucia lay back against the pillows and let her knees fall open. Lara crawled forward on her hands and knees and settled between them, her back arched, her ass raised. She kissed the inside of Lucia's thigh once, then again higher, drawing it out. Then she buried her face between Lucia's legs and licked her pussy in one long, firm stroke.

Lucia's back came off the bed. "Oh, fuck."

Mike moved in behind Lara and took hold of her hips. The view made his cock throb. The long curve of her spine. The swell of her ass. Her brunette hair spilling across Lucia's thighs. And beyond her, Lucia's face, eyes half closed, mouth open.

Lara glanced back at him over her shoulder, her lips glistening. "No hard feelings?"

"Just the one," Mike said, and pushed into her.

She was soaked. He slid all the way inside in one stroke until his hips met her ass, and she moaned into Lucia, long and muffled. He held there, feeling her clench around him, then drew back until only the head remained inside her and drove forward again.

He set the rhythm he wanted. The one he longed for. Long, deep strokes at first, all the way out and all the way home. Every time he bottomed out, Lara's body rocked forward, pushing her face deeper between Lucia's thighs, and Lucia gasped. He was fucking both of them. Every thrust into Lara traveled straight through her and into the other woman.

Lara's breasts swayed beneath her with every stroke, the soft flesh rippling on each impact, neither one ever losing its shape. Mike slid one hand underneath her and filled his palm, feeling her bounce against his fingers in time with his hips.

He sped up. The long strokes turned short and hard, the slap of his thighs against her ass sharp and rhythmic, the wet sounds rising from where they were joined. Lara pushed back to meet him, harder each time, taking him deeper. She lifted her mouth from Lucia just long enough to give a quick instruction.

"Don't stop," Lara gasped before Lucia's hand found the back of her head and pulled her back down.

Lucia came first.

Her thighs clamped around Lara's head. Her back bowed off the pillows, her fingers knotted in Lara's hair, and she cried out, a raw sound that went on and on. Her hips bucked against Lara's mouth, and Lara stayed with her, licking her through every shudder until Lucia finally sagged back, trembling, and pushed her away.

Mike gathered Lara's hair in his fist and pulled her up. She rose onto her hands, back arching, her head pulled back toward him. The new angle drove him deeper, and the sound she made was pure sex. He'd heard her come on his fingers before. It was that sound, but more.

He pounded into her. No rhythm now. No measured control. Just desire. Hard, deep strokes, his free hand gripping her hip and dragging her back onto him again and again. Her breasts bounced beneath her. Her arms shook. Across from her, Lucia propped herself up on her elbows to watch, a lazy smile spreading across her face as she reached out and cupped Lara's cheek.

Then, Mike wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her upright until she was kneeling with her back pressed to his chest, still buried inside her. Somehow, she felt even tighter like this. He kept driving up into her in short, deep thrusts, his hands sliding up her stomach to fill themselves with her breasts. Lara reached back and hooked an arm around his neck, her head tipping back.

Lucia watched them for a moment. Then she rose onto her knees in front of Lara, close enough that the three of them were pressed together, and pushed one of Mike's hands aside. She took Lara's nipple into her mouth and sucked hard. Lara let out a strangled moan. Held by him from behind and by Lucia's mouth in front, she had nowhere to go.

It was all too much for her. Lara came apart around him.

She clamped down on him hard, pulsing around his cock in fast, rhythmic waves. Lucia kept her mouth on Lara's breast through all of it, sucking her nipple until Lara's cry gave way to choked, helpless gasps. Then her strength went out of her, and she sagged forward into Lucia's arms. Lucia caught her and eased her down onto the bed, and Mike followed her down, still buried inside her. He kept going, fucking her prone body through it, until the pulsing eased and she was trembling and limp beneath him.

In the shower, his breath came hard and fast. His legs had begun to shake.

"I'm close," he groaned.

"Finish in me," Lara begged. "Please. I want to feel it."

"No. Me!" Lucia was already reaching for him.

Mike pulled out. Lara whimpered at the loss.

"You can both share," he said, rising to his feet on the mattress.

They knelt in front of him, side by side, so close that their shoulders pressed together, faces tilted up. The bed shifted under the three of them, and Mike planted his feet wider to keep his balance. Lucia's hair was wild. Lara's cheeks were flushed, and her lips were still wet from Lucia.

Lucia got there first. She took him into her mouth and bobbed fast and deep, a half dozen times, her eyes on Lara the whole time, before Lara pushed her aside. Lara swallowed him down to the base in one long pull and held him there, throat working, then dragged her lips all the way back up to the tip and released him with a wet pop. She shot Lucia a look that said, beat that.

Mike didn't give her the chance. He took his cock in his fist. He stroked himself hard and fast, slick from both their mouths, and the two of them leaned in close beneath him, mouths open wide, tongues out, waiting.

Mike groaned as his orgasm hit. His cock pulsed in his fist, and he felt his cum shoot out of him.

The first rope landed across Lara's face, from her cheek to the corner of her open mouth. The second caught Lucia across the lips and chin. He worked himself over both of them, back and forth, covering their faces while they held perfectly still for him, eyes open, as if the fantasy versions didn't care where it went. It dripped from Lara's chin onto the tops of her breasts. Lucia licked her lips clean and moaned. He gave Lara the last of it, her eyes locked onto his.

In the shower, rope after rope splattered onto the blue-tiled wall. He painted it white as he pumped his cock rapidly, his eyes still squinting closed. He gasped as the last spasm shuddered through him. His stroking slowed, and he loosened his grip.

Coming back to reality, he opened his eyes. He saw the evidence of his release slowly being washed away. What remained was a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Both their faces stayed with him. Lucia's and Lara's, side by side, looking up at him at the very end. He wasn't sure which one stirred more shame in him.

It's just a fantasy, Mike. It's harmless. It doesn't mean anything.

***

I've really, really missed this. God, he knows what he's doing.

Nico and Lara had left the restaurant but hadn't quite made it into his car. He had her pinned against the passenger side door, one hand braced on the roof and the other holding her waist gently. They were locked together in a kiss that he had initiated but she had more than welcomed.

He started slow and soft, their lips brushing lightly. It had only been a whisper of contact. His tenderness had surprised her and made her lean in for more. The hand he had placed on the roof now moved to her face as his thumb brushed over her cheek.

Nico pulled back a fraction, almost daring her to press forward. She did, leaning into the kiss as he returned his mouth to hers. Their lips slid over each other with a gentle friction. Back and forth they went, taking their time for over a minute. Lara parted her lips, hinting that she wanted him to escalate. He declined the invitation and just continued that agonizingly sweet friction until she let out a frustrated little whimper.

When she parted her lips a second time, his tongue met hers in a velvet caress. It was sedate and controlled, as if he knew that there was more to come. That there was no need to rush.

His tongue stayed gliding across hers in deliberate strokes, never rushing or forcing. She could taste the salt of his steak on his lips, but the flavor wasn't unpleasant. It only made the kiss better. She could feel the restraint in him, the careful control. She enjoyed the way his lips would seal over hers completely, then ease back to brush lightly before returning with more pressure.

This was the first real kiss she'd had in months. She didn't count the brief whiskey swap with Mike, and she certainly didn't count Price's awful assault on her mouth with his bristled mustache.

This was in stark contrast to how most men kissed. He wasn't slobbering all over her. He wasn't flinging his tongue around her mouth. Nor was he jabbing his tongue as far into her mouth as he could. She called that one the "Angry Slug" and it was sadly quite common. Not here, though. Nico knew better. He'd either had plenty of practice, or he'd had a good teacher.

He moved the hand from her cheek and slid it up into her hair. She felt his fingers thread through her brunette strands and reach to cradle the back of her head. The grip was firmer than before but still careful, angling her exactly where he wanted. Lara let him guide her, opening her mouth wider, as his tongue explored deeper.

Lara arched against him without thinking. Her hips pressed into his purely through instinct. He responded instantly, pressing his body harder against hers. She could feel the metal of the car on her back and the equally hard pressure of his erection brushing against her. With the firm grip he had in her hair, he tilted her head back gently. She let him do it. His mouth left hers as he began to trail hot kisses along her neck before brushing her ear with his lips. He lingered there for a moment before he was back to her lips, now with a little more pressure. More purpose.

How is this man single?

The kiss grew more urgent. Their breaths came in hot bursts between them. When his tongue tangled with hers now, it felt to her as if he was demanding more. Less tentative and more aggressive. She met him stroke for stroke, her own lust rising to match his.

At the same time, his fingers massaged her scalp in slow, hypnotic circles that made her eyelids heavy. Lara moaned in response, the vibrations coursing through her mouth.

His other hand left her hip and came up between them, finding her breast through her dress. She expected a similar soft tease or caress, but instead he squeezed hard. She gasped as his fingers dug into the soft tissue with obvious hunger. He kept going, kneading her in a way that bordered on painful.

Lara winced, shifting slightly to try and guide him to be a little gentler. He wasn't deterred, digging his fingers into her with a possessive grip that lacked all the finesse of his kiss.

Okay, not quite as good with his hands as with his lips. I'm attached to them, Nico.

Still, she could forgive the mauling. From all the wordplay at dinner, all the staring, it was obvious that he was enamored with her breasts, and she could tell he was worked up. Some over-eagerness was to be expected, even a little flattering.

His breathing was getting heavier, and she could feel his pulse quicken. She pulled back, and pushed him away with her hand on his chest, breaking the kiss but not the contact. They looked at each other, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. A smile played on her lips, full of mischief.

"What is the idea here? Are we going dancing?" Lara asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"That was the plan."

She leaned in close to his right ear and whispered. "Plans can change. We don't have to."

"Really?"

"Nico. Get in the car," Lara commanded.

He stepped back and almost dashed to the driver's side with eager steps as she swung her door wide and eased herself inside. She settled into the seat, her thighs pressed tight together, quite aroused from the make-out session.

Lara swiveled to face him fully as he closed his door. Her dress rode up a little on her thighs as she sat.

"How close is your place?" Lara asked.

"Pretty close. I'm in the center of town. Maybe five minutes," Nico answered. "But I meant what I said earlier. These seats recline."

He gave her a sly smile, his intent clear. Lara knew what he was suggesting. That he could lean back and she could scramble over to his side and straddle him. Fuck him right here in the front seat. She bit her bottom lip as she imagined riding him.

No. The car is cramped. We aren't teenagers. I want a bed. I want his bed.

"I'd like to see your place. Show it to me. Five minutes is nothing," Lara told him.

"The way I feel right now, it seems like an eternity. What if I can't wait that long?"

"Good things come to those who wait. Drive, Nico. I'll keep you entertained until we get there," Lara said softly as she reached one hand over and ran it up his thigh toward his crotch. She squeezed his thigh and then pulled her hand back. Lara moved to her knees on her own seat and then eased over the center console.

Lucia said that giving him a blowjob was no big deal. And I guess she was right. She would be ecstatic if she could see me now.

Nico started the car and wasted no time in pulling into traffic, the engine revving loudly as he did so. He gripped the wheel as he glanced down at her head hovering over his lap. His eyes wandered over her body. She was side-on, her torso draped across him, ass and hips thrust high in the air while her upper body was pressed low. The angle put her body on display. He could see the arch of her spine and the way her dress had ridden up her thighs. His cock throbbed at the sight. Her breasts strained against the confines of her dress, as her brunette hair spilled forward onto him. The pose was undeniably erotic. He felt her fingers attack his fly, yanking it open with purpose.

Fucking hell. She is so beautiful, Nico thought as he alternated between looking at the road and her body.

Reaching inside, she fished his cock out of his briefs, freeing him completely.

Thank God, she thought to herself as she stared at it.

Privately, she felt relief. He was a good size. She'd felt him hard and insistent against her during their kiss outside the car, so she'd known he was packing something, but there was never any real guarantee until you saw it free and up close. It wasn't the thickest she'd ever seen, but at around six inches in length, straight and ready, it was enough.

Definitely enough.

Lara brought her puckered lips to the tip of his cock and planted a soft, teasing kiss right on the sensitive head. The moment she made contact, he groaned loudly. She felt the car wobble slightly. Turning her head sideways, she peered up at him.

"Nico, I don't have my seatbelt on. Drive carefully, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Looking back down at his cock, she gathered her hair and swept it completely over her right shoulder to keep it out of the way. Then she dipped down. Her tongue traced a slow, wet path from his base to the tip of his cock, coating him with her saliva. She delivered long, languid strokes with her tongue designed to slick him up and drive him crazy at the same time. The car swayed gently as he navigated traffic. It still made her nervous, but she blocked it out, focusing entirely on teasing him. On making sure she covered every sensitive inch of him.

"Your tongue feels so soft."

Satisfied that he was ready, she parted her lips and wrapped them around his head. She held him there for a moment, her lips sealed around his tip. Pre-cum leaked onto her tongue. It tasted slightly salty. She heard him inhale sharply as she began taking him into her mouth. Slow and tender. She had no intention of getting him off here in the car. This was just foreplay, something to keep him hard and wanting. Her head bobbed gently, sucking with just enough pressure to feel incredible without pushing him toward the edge.

The center console pressed into her hip, not painfully, but firmly enough to remind her precisely where she was. Draped across him as she was, she couldn't see the road. But she didn't really need to. She could feel the muscles of his right thigh shift beneath her every time he eased off the gas or touched the brake, and before long, she was reading the drive through his body alone. Every breath she drew through her nose was warm leather and his cologne. It smelled like money.

It had been a long time since she'd done this in a car. She'd forgotten the thrill of it. The city sliding past outside, people seeing the car but not realizing she had her head in a man's lap.

"Fuck. Christ. That's so good, Lara."

She kept at it, enjoying his praise. Her tongue worked his shaft, hunting for the thick vein running along the underside. The sideways positioning shifted everything. His underside was now on the right side of her mouth, but she'd given enough road head to know how to adapt. She angled her tongue and traced the vein in slow, deliberate strokes.

Her mouth maintained that leisurely pace in his lap as she eased herself into it. She varied her depth, taking him halfway down before pulling back to his tip again, lavishing attention on the sensitive crown. She hollowed her cheeks on the upstroke, creating gentle suction. Not too hard, or too fast. Just enough. There was no need to use her hands; her mouth could do the heavy lifting. She took him a little further now, not quite to his base but more than before.

"Your lips look so fucking good wrapped around me. I love watching you work," Nico said.

Okay, he's a talker, she thought.

In Lara's experience, most men were fairly quiet during sex, and even less vocal during a blowjob. The only time they made a sound was when they were about to finish. But every so often, you got a talker. The kind who narrated everything, announced every sensation like a live sports commentary. Apparently, Nico fell firmly into that category. But that was fine. She could work with that. She decided to join in, matching his energy. At the next pause, she'd give him some dirty talk.

"Yeah. Take me deep. I want to feel your throat," Nico said.

She did as he asked and took him deeper, pushing past her gag reflex until her throat constricted around him, warm and oh so tight. She felt him throb against the back of her throat. It could have been her imagination, but he suddenly felt bigger.

She held him buried there for several seconds, swallowing around him, before starting a slow, teasing ascent. He cursed aloud as she reached about the halfway point of his cock.

Holding him there, she moaned low in her throat. Following the moan, she hummed deliberately, sending waves of sensation through him. She knew he'd enjoy it. Not just the vibrations, but the moaning to go along with it. The kind of pleasure sounds that most men knew were performative but loved all the same. The idea that their partners found their dicks delicious and couldn't help but purr.

Moaning a few more times for good measure, she then pulled off slightly, letting his cock slip from her lips with a wet pop, and looked up at him, her eyes fixed on his.

"You taste amazing. I can't wait to take your load," Lara said, her voice low and husky.

Without waiting for a response, she swallowed him back down, taking him into her wet mouth once more. The line had been for effect. She wasn't planning to finish him off in the car. It was premature, not to mention dangerous with him at the wheel. But she figured she'd play her role, give him the dirty fantasy while keeping him ready for when they reached his apartment.

Nico risked a glance down. From where he sat, all he could see was the back of her head and the side of her face, her hair swept clear of it. He watched her cheek hollow as she drew on him, her red lips gliding down his cock and back up again, glistening. Every streetlight they passed spilled across her bare shoulders and down the red dress before the shadows took her back. Light, then dark. Over and over. He forced his eyes back to the road.

He might need his eyes, but he didn't need both hands to drive. His right hand abandoned the steering wheel. It settled on the curve of her ass, raised high in the air, and rested there for a moment as if asking permission. She didn't object. His palm smoothed down over the red fabric to where her dress had ridden up and found the bare skin at the backs of her thighs. She hummed her approval around him.

The car rolled to a stop at a red light. The engine idled beneath her, a deep, low growl that traveled up through the console and into her ribs, her breasts, her whole body. She could feel it everywhere she touched the car.

Nico's hand slid back up her body and dropped low, under her torso. He grabbed the top of her dress and yanked it down. The fabric stretched taut beneath her breasts before giving way, unleashing them both with a bounce. They spilled free, warm and heavy against his leg, even with her straps still on her shoulders. Wasting no time, he grabbed a handful. He cupped the full weight before squeezing hard.

"Your tits feel incredible. I could do this all night," he said as the light turned green and he accelerated.

Lara usually enjoyed having her breasts played with, but his grip was too aggressive. His fingers were digging in hard enough to hurt rather than to arouse. He was manhandling her without any finesse. Again. Just like outside the car. Lara decided she couldn't stay silent this time. He needed correcting now. She eased off his cock and tried to suppress a wince at a particularly rough squeeze.

"Nico, they are sensitive. Go easier, please."

He immediately softened his touch, the painful grip transforming into something far more tolerable. His palm cupped her gently now, kneading with care. He ran his fingertips along the underside of her breast, back and forth for a few moments before brushing them lightly over her nipple.

Much better.

She moaned around him in approval, the vibration traveling down his shaft to let him know he'd gotten it right. That this was more her desired speed.

As Nico drove, a pickup truck drew level with them in the next lane, matching their speed. The driver glanced over. Then he did a double take and looked closer.

From up in his cab, the man had a clear view down into the Maserati. He liked what he saw. A woman draped across the center console, her red dress pulled down to her waist, her ass in the air, her brunette hair falling over the driver's lap, her head bobbing steadily.

The guy's grin spread from ear to ear. He caught Nico's eye and gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Nico grinned back, lifted his hand from her just long enough to return it, then eased off the gas and let the truck pull ahead. His turn was coming up anyway.

Lara, oblivious to their brief audience, continued at the same measured tempo, tongue and lips working together. Licking him, fluttering her tongue lightly, nothing too intense. Up and down she went, bobbing with the occasional head rotation. The twisting motion gave him the feel of something new, while she traced lazy patterns with her tongue. She never ceased her steady, gentle suction.

She let him slip almost all the way out, leaving just the head between her lips, and worked it with soft, popping sucks, drawing it in and letting it go, wet and teasing. From her position, the sensitive spot just beneath the ridge sat against the inside of her cheek. She found it with the tip of her tongue and flicked across it, again and again, feeling his stomach muscles jump each time. When his hips twitched up toward her, she eased off and drew back, breathing warm air over his wet cock before taking him back into her mouth. She was enjoying herself. The weight of him on her tongue, the taste of him, the car rocking her through every turn. And she had him exactly where she wanted him, simmering, nowhere near boiling.

They had been going for several minutes, and she assumed they would be nearly at his place. Confident she was doing an excellent job, she found herself anticipating what was to come. A night of passion. The kind she hadn't experienced in so long. She squeezed her thighs together, an unmistakable slickness pooling between them.

But then, all of a sudden, Nico cried out. The sound was desperate and sharp. His hand left her breast and grabbed a fistful of her hair. He tensed up completely. She barely had time to react. Her eyes went wide in surprise, a muffled sound of shock vibrating around him.

"FUCK!"

No way. I'm only in second gear. Is he really finishing?

There was nothing else to do at this point. Either she had misjudged her ministrations, or he had simply been too worked up to begin with. She took him in deep as he began to come, moaning around his length, knowing the vibrations would feel heavenly. Then she picked up speed, gripping him tightly as she bobbed quickly. There was no reason to go slow anymore; the horse had bolted. She figured she might as well give him a real finish since he'd already gotten there. She worked him through his orgasm, drinking him down pulse by pulse.

"Swallow. Be a good girl. Swallow it all."

Lara kept gulping him down obediently, but his words sparked a flash of irritation in her chest.

Good girl? Ugh. Really?

She pushed it aside. He'd said it in the heat of the moment. She'd heard guys say lots of stupid shit when they came. She took him deeper, burying him in her throat until her nose pressed against his pelvis. Her tongue massaged his shaft in rolling waves as he kept pulsing, but slower now.

Knowing he was almost done, she withdrew until only his swollen head remained between her lips, and she wrapped her hand around his base to stroke him through the final weak releases. Her strokes were soft and gentle, designed to coax out the last few drops.

When he was finally spent, she released him and began cleaning him with her tongue, light and careful licks, knowing he'd be hypersensitive now. She'd maintained a tight seal the entire time he was coming. There was barely any mess at all. Pressing one final, tender kiss to his tip, she sat back up in her seat, tugged her dress back up over her breasts, and started to smooth her hair.

His head turned toward her, that dopey post-orgasm grin spreading wide across his features. There wasn't much left in her mouth. Most of it had shot straight down her throat. But she knew he'd love the visual, so she played it up. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back ever so slightly, and swallowed hard. She made sure he could see her throat move in an obvious, theatrical gulp. When she opened her eyes again, she matched his expression with one of her own.

It only then dawned on her that the car was completely still. They were parked in an underground lot, surrounded by concrete and other vehicles in neat rows. She figured he must have pulled in while she was working him over, and she'd been too absorbed in what she was doing to even notice they'd arrived.

Tunnel vision. Or cock vision, I suppose.

Nico reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "Plus one billion points to Griffsindur."

The comment made her instantly crack up. Laughter flowed out of her, lively and genuine. Whatever slight annoyance she'd felt at his words as he came, or at how fast he had gotten there, all of it vanished in an instant. The endearing part of him overpowered the rest. The way he'd tucked her hair back had felt tender, and he knew exactly how to make her laugh at a moment's notice.

"That many points? Would that make me a witch?"

"I have no idea. But that was certainly magical," Nico replied.

Lara tilted her head toward the windshield, gesturing at the parking garage around them with a slight nod. "Your place, I presume?" Lara asked.

"Yes. I'm on the top floor. But don't worry. There's an elevator."

"You don't have the stamina for stairs?" she teased.

"I'm not sure I can walk after that," Nico said, opening the driver-side door.

She stepped out on her side and pushed the door shut, then leaned her forearms on the roof of the car, staring at him over the top. "Well, I hope your wand is ready to go again soon."

"I'm sure I'll manage," Nico said as he closed his door and locked the car with his key fob.

They crossed the parking garage together. The sound of her heels clacking on the concrete was distractingly loud as it echoed around them. They reached the elevator, and Nico input a code into a keypad and then pressed the call button. He reached out and pulled her close while they waited, his hand sliding to the small of her back.

Once they were inside, he pressed the button for the penthouse, and they started to ascend. To Lara, the ride up felt endless. Nico kept glancing at her, that satisfied grin still plastered on his face, while Lara felt heat coiling tighter in her belly with every floor that passed.

The months without sex, the flirting at dinner, making out at the car, even the blowjob she'd just given, all combined to make her wetter than Seattle in November. She couldn't help feeling wound up. Ready. He'd already gotten his. Now, it was her turn. The first turn of many, she hoped.

The elevator opened directly into his penthouse. The lights flickered on automatically as they entered. It was sleek, modern, and no doubt expensive. From the entrance, she could make out rows of glass windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. She was sure that the view was spectacular, but in that moment, she couldn't have cared less.

"Would you like a tour? I have a balcony, and...."

Lara cut him off, closing the distance and grabbing his face. She kissed him hard, wrapping her body around his.

"Yes, a tour," she murmured against his mouth, kissing him again between words. "Start with your bedroom."

He didn't argue. His hands found her hips as she backed him down the hallway, their mouths locked together. They stumbled past a side table, a standing lamp, and almost bumped into a wall. She didn't care. Her hands were already pulling at his shirt, tugging it free. His fingers fumbled with the zipper at the back of her dress as they crashed through a doorway into his bedroom.

The lights were on but dimmed. Lara kicked off her heels and shoved him backward onto the bed with both hands. He landed with a grunt, and she was on him instantly, hiking her dress up to her hips as she straddled his waist. His hands came up to cup her breasts through the fabric. Lara brushed them aside, sat up straight, and peeled the loosened dress down to her waist herself. His palms were on her bare skin before it had even finished bunching at her middle.

She attacked the buttons of his shirt, fumbling with the first two before becoming frustrated and just tearing it open. Buttons popped and scattered across the bed and floor as she shoved the shirt off his shoulders and threw it away from them.

With his upper body now bare, her hands roamed across it, taking him in. Dark hair covered his chest, enough to be masculine without being too much. His body wasn't Hollywood perfect, but it was good. He had solid shoulders, and a flat stomach with visible definition. Not a six-pack, but decently toned. But she'd examine him more later. Right now, she just needed to be fucked.

Seemingly reading her mind, his hands gripped her waist suddenly, and in one smooth motion, he twisted and rolled, flipping her onto her back. Her breasts bounced with the impact as she landed on the bed. Lifting herself off the mattress, Lara quickly pushed the bunched dress down over her hips and kicked it off her ankles. Just as quickly, she hooked her panties and dragged them down her legs.

At the same time, he slid off the bed and removed his pants and underwear in one aggressive pull down. His cock sprang free. He kicked his pants away, pulled off his socks, and crawled onto the bed, stopping as he kneeled between her spread thighs.

His eyes roamed over her, lingering on her curves, her heaving chest, and her brunette hair that had fanned out behind her across his pillow.

"You are a vision."

He leaned down and kissed her hard. She returned it hungrily, but a moment later, he was gone again. His lips left her mouth and trailed down her neck. His right hand slid between her thighs, and then two fingers pushed inside her, sinking deep. Her eyes rolled back as pleasure spiked through her, and she let out a loud moan. He began working them in and out, curling slightly with each stroke.

Her body was on fire. His fingers felt wonderful inside her, stroking deep, finding that perfect angle that made her tremble. His mouth moved lower to her tits. He drew her left nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue.

Lara moaned once more, loudly, almost a scream. It felt so, so good. But she didn't need any foreplay. She was already soaked. She just needed his cock inside her. And so she let him know. The clever wordplay, the entendres and the innuendos were nowhere to be found now. She told him six simple words.

"I need your cock inside me."

He pulled his fingers free, and she felt the loss immediately. But then he positioned himself between her legs. She felt the head of his cock press against her entrance. Lara pulled her knees up, opening herself wider for him, and he pushed forward.

His cock slid into her in one smooth stroke, her wetness making it effortless for both of them. She groaned at the sensation, at finally having him inside her. He began to thrust. Once. Twice. Three times, building a rhythm.

God, yes.

He didn't quite fill her; he didn't possess the girth. But it still felt incredible. Every thrust sent sparks of pleasure radiating through her body. She knew that with how worked up she was, he would only need to last two or three minutes to get her there. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him deeper, rocking her hips up to meet each stroke. A familiar pressure built low in her belly. Her orgasm was approaching much faster than normal. She closed her eyes and chased it.

But then, barely thirty seconds in, she heard him grunt and felt his whole body go rigid above her.

No. No! Surely not! Again?!

His cock jerked inside her, and she knew. Her fears were realized. He was coming. He stopped moving, and she could feel it spilling into her, his breath coming in harsh gasps as his orgasm took him. Within seconds, it was over. He pulled out and rolled onto his back next to her, breathing hard.

Lara didn't move and just stared at the ceiling, her pulse pounding in her ears, her body aching for more. More that she knew wasn't going to come.

What do I do here? What do I say? Do I make a joke? Do I ignore it completely? Surely he can't think that was enough for me?

"That was great," Nico whispered in her ear before kissing her cheek and then rolling over onto his side, his back to her. He clapped both his hands in quick succession, and the low light disappeared, leaving them both in darkness.

Great? For fucking who, exactly?

She lay there in the dark. A small part of her wanted to laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. A bigger part wanted to scream in frustration. But the largest part wanted to cry. Alan had given her a pass. And she had used it. For that. She had all of the guilt and none of the reward. Then, cutting through the silence, she heard it. A soft snore. He was asleep.

All the talk. All the buildup. For a minute man? Did he even make it a minute? Jesus fucking Christ. I should have just let him finger me. Well, mystery solved. That is why he is still single. He couldn't even get me off once.

Lying there wasn't an option she was willing to entertain. Not like this. Unsatisfied and desperate. But leaving wasn't possible either. Lucia would kill her. That left one choice. She clamped her arm across her mouth to muffle any sound and slid her free hand down her stomach, between her thighs, her fingers circling her swollen clit.

Tonight, you come first, he said. Ha! What a joke.

***

FBI Agent Carl Redmond stood looking out at the water as he listened to the waves crash against the pier. The metal railing was freezing cold against the agent's hands.

This is ridiculous. Next time we meet indoors. I'm not freezing my balls off again. Especially if this prick is going to be late.

Redmond turned away from the ocean and looked back down the pier, where he spotted a figure walking toward him. There was only a single streetlight between them, so he couldn't quite make out their face, but it could only be his contact. Nobody else would have a reason to be out here at this time of night.

"You're late," the agent called out to the man approaching him. "I was about to leave."

The man stopped a couple of feet away from him, his bottom half lit up by the streetlight but his face still obscured by shadow.

"I didn't pick the time. Or place," the man said with a yawn.

He then lifted his left arm and pulled back the sleeve of his jacket. The metal of a watch glinted briefly in the darkness as he checked the time. "I'm only twenty minutes late, anyway."

"This isn't a social call. And we've been over this before. When the Bureau sets a meeting, you are on FBI time. We aren't on yours. When we say 3:30 am, we don't mean 3:50 am. Got it?"

"Understood. Won't happen again," the man said.

Agent Redmond sighed. "Let's get to it. Tell me all you know about this meeting with the Cartel."