“The girls who lived here?”
“Yes.”
“And you believe them?”
“I do. They have no reason to lie. And it’s not like I asked about him specifically. They brought it up first, and then I showed them a photo of the son of a bitch.”
Kirsten frowns at me, then glances at my limp dick. I was so busy watching her get dressed I forgot to put clothes on. “You’re upset by what they told you.”
“Who wouldn’t be? I knew rookies go through shit like getting hazed, but they’re crossing a line.”
“Are you going to hurt him?”
“Probably. Does that upset you?”
“I don’t want to know the details.” She slips her white panties up her legs. “And I don’t want him ruining our morning.” Kirsten comes over and wraps her arms around my neck, then places a kiss on my cheek. “How about we change the bed sheets, you lie down, and I use my mouth to get you nice and hard again for me?”
“Can I restrain your hands behind your back first?”
“Sure.”
“Then you’ll suck me off and ride me?”
“Reverse cowgirl so you can slap my ass and pull my hair?”
“Fuck yes,” I agree, giving her bottom a hard slap. “Why did you put clothes on?”
“I thought you were leaving.” She glances down and adds, “And it looks like you don’t need my mouth after all.”
“Oh, I still need to come in your mouth. It’s all I’ve thought about since that night you came to thank me and the next morning.” I push her down onto the bed. “After all, you’ve come on my tongue at least, what, ten times? So, you’ve got some catching up to do.”
21
Kirsten
The morning with Tristan is no less passionate than the night before. I swear it’s like I can’t keep my hands off him. I want more of what only he can give me.
So, when he climbs out of bed and starts putting on a suit, I’m annoyed and disappointed. “I’ve got to head out and handle something real fast. Do you need anything before I go?” Tristan asks as slips on his suit jacket then checks his firearm.
“I…I want to get out of the apartment for a few hours,” I tell him because I don’t want to be left alone. “Can I come with you?”
“Really?” He scowls. “It’s not safe. And you’re not going to like what you see me do.”
“What are you going to do?” I question. “And I’ll be safe with you. Nobody knows I’m here except your cousins and the girls downstairs, right?”
Shaking his head, he says, “Fine. Come or don’t come, but I have to go.”
“Give me a minute to get dressed,” I huff. While I need to set up a meeting with Serafina — outside of the courthouse — I figure it can wait another day since nobody will expect me to be tagging along with Tristan.
Once I’m ready, dressed down in black yoga pants and a gray sweatshirt with my hair in a messy bun, we take his truck across town and find a parking spot in front of a cluster of Italian restaurants and delis. Even the pharmacy and dry cleaner have names like Giordono’s and Lombardi’s.
“Let me guess, these are all mob businesses?” I ask before he kills the engine.
“Creed owns some small businesses, but most of these are run by individuals who are not made men. They’re just associates.”
“Associates who have to pay you…what’s it called? Pizzo?”
“No, they chose to pay the pizzo,” Tristan replies.
