“Don’t stop,” I demanded softly to her. Then, louder, to Gav, “Alright.”

Saff started moving again.

Going faster.

Taking me deeper.

But Gav’s footsteps weren’t retreating back to the door.

They were moving across the floor below.

They were getting closer.

Saff moved faster still, her hand working me as she sucked me in little twisting movements.

“Fuck, I’m—” I started to warn her as I heard Gav’s feet start up the steps.

Saff sucked me to the base, letting me come down her throat with a low curse.

She swallowed down my release, but was back on her feet in seconds as Gav’s steps continued to climb closer.

Her hand shot out toward the table, and I was still too fucking out of my mind to realize what she was doing as she turned and strode toward the steps, fastening her pants with one hand before she got there.

“Here you go, Gav,” she said, holding out the phone she’d grabbed off the table.

“Thanks, Miss Amato,” Gav said as I just sat there, come-drunk, cock out, unable to do anything but watch her back as she told Gav to have a good day.

His footsteps retreated before Saff finally turned to look at me.

Her gaze was intense, her smile self-satisfied.

She knew what she’d done to me, what power she had over me now.

Then, without a fucking word, she turned with a smile and left me there just like that.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Saff

“You’re in a mood,” Bastian said as we stood in Renzo’s apartment after our usual weekly meeting, everyone discussing any issues going down with their associates, soldiers, or clients.

As always, after the actual meeting, things shifted more to party mode. Food was delivered. Drinks were poured. Music came on.

I usually loved the parties at the boss’s house.

It gave me the feeling of family that I’d never gotten to have while growing up. I ate up the familiarity, the feeling of belonging.

But, yeah, I was not feeling it.

“I’m always in a mood,” I said, tone dead. “It’s kind of what I’m known for.” Was that a bit of bitterness in my voice? And if so, why?

I was proud of my reputation.

I liked that everyone in this room knew I was a badass, that I’d busted my ass to belong with them.

Why would I suddenly be annoyed by that?

Why did it no longer feel like enough?

“It’s different. You’ve been different.”

“Different how?” I asked, spine tingling, worried that he’d maybe seen or heard something he shouldn’t have.

But, no.