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“I haven’t decided shit, yet.” I pull up to the gate of my second stage house, and code the door open. This one has been vacant for almost a year now, and each room is soundproofed to act like a separate studio.That’swhy Captain Dall is sitting in this basement.
If Quinn slips and opens her mouth, the jig’s up. Patrick will either think the Russian’s kidnapped his daughter, or… I don’t know what.
I pull up to the back entrance, which is surrounded by trees and a high fence. Awnings and gazebos are installed everywhere ever since I read about drones snapping pictures of mobsters from above. I hate this day and age.Hate it.
“You’re coming out my side.” I grab her hand. “Listen to me, Quinn. Listengood. One peep. If he so much as takes in your scent, he won’t get released. Hecan’tknow the Italians are involved, or that you’re involved.”
“How many times you going to say it?”
“Plenty. Each time gives me a slightly better chance to penetrate that TikTok brain.”
“Should’ve penetrated me when we were in the shed,” she mumbles under her breath while blindly climbing out the car.
Did she really just say that?
Another river of blood flows to my cock.
If she only knew how hard it was not to. Since that day, all I wanted is to cuff her to the bed and drop every load deep into her pussy, but I’m a fool for thinking that way. No way that ends well.
I unlock the reinforced back door of the house and step inside, leading her from behind me. “Shoes.” I guide her to the mat as I walk onto the wood floor with my loafers. Dall will be expecting me, but this kid needs to be as silent as a lamb.
She pulls off her boots—ridiculous lion socks half off her foot—causing me to cackle and grumble as I get on one knee to fix them for her.
“Such a gentleman,”she whispers, picking up her other foot for me to fix.
“Tease me with those leggings of yours, then ruin it all with these fucking lion socks… you really know how to drain the blood.”
“Hater,”she whispers. “Can I take this off yet?”She points to her blindfold.
“In a minute. Talking stops here. Understand?”
She nods once as I guide her toward the basement door. The chestnut wood floor is pristine as we make our way through the house. As she nearly knocks into the couch, her grip tightens around my hand. Her touch is so soft… so young. I feel like a fucking vampire being involved with her.
I unlock three latches and open the door, and when I do, I whip the blindfold off of her. She blinks a few times as her eyes adjust to see me with a finger over my lips.
Stay fucking quiet, Quinn, I swear to God.
Don’t ruin this for yourself.
Crhnk!
The heavy door closes behind us, and my loafersclunkafter every step.
“It’s too early for another meal. What’s going on?”Patrick’s voice comes in muffled from the bottom floor, and Quinn freezes on the steps.
I look up to see both her hands covering her mouth. Tears welling up in her eyes.
The sight makes me angry… because I fucking care.
Dammit.
I continue down the stairs. “What are you, counting the seconds?” I say in a Russian accent while waiting for Quinn to quietly descend the last steps.
Her brow furrows at me, judgingly.
I only roll my eyes and present her father.
“You’ve given me nothing else to do down here. I asked for a fucking newspaper or something.Jesus,” Patrick says.