Page 37

“Hmm, it’s almost eight,” I mutter, glancing back at the sleeping mass still in bed. “I’m not sure when he’s supposed to get up. I hope he didn’t forget to set an alarm.”

I worry for a few moments before walking to the kitchen.

Boyd’s coffeepot is fancier than the ones I’ve used in the past, but after playing with the settings, I figure out how to get a pot brewing.

I consider making breakfast, even though cooking isn’t my specialty, but his fridge is practically empty.

The only thing edible is condiments, unless you count the beer. It’s way too early for that.

I didn’t bring my laptop, so I sit down with my phone while I wait for the coffee to brew.

Boyd’s phone would be lighting up if there was anything new about the Mafia Prince Killer, so I’m not surprised when all I see are recaps.

There are several stories about some motions filed by Arthur Dykstra’s attorneys.

I make a mental note to review those. I don’t have anything new to share, so I’ll focus on that during my next podcast.

A series of grunts and some heavy footsteps tell me Boyd is awake. The coffee is done, so I hurry over to fix two cups.

“Never been happier to see a naked woman in my kitchen,” Boyd chuckles as he turns the corner.

“You see that often?” I tease, turning to him and sliding a cup of coffee across the counter.

“No,” he says, ignoring the coffee and walking around the counter to pull me into a warm embrace. “I lay in bed for a few minutes convinced last night was just a fucking dream. Then I smelled you on my sheets.”

“If you were lying in bed, you must not have overslept,” I say, leaning my head against him and enjoying the way his arms feel. “I was worried you forgot to set an alarm or something.”

“Nah, you wanted to see what a normal day is like for me, right?” he says, finally pulling away and reaching for his coffee. “This is how most of them start these days.”

Boyd sips his coffee and walks back to the bedroom. He emerges a few seconds later, wearing his boxers, with a cigarette hanging from his lips. I grab a blanket and wrap up in it, then follow him outside.

“Oh, it’s windy,” I laugh, pulling the blanket tighter around myself as Boyd sits down and sips his coffee.

“Yeah, especially up here. Usually pretty nice, though, unless it’s raining.” Boyd lights his cigarette.

I sit down, puff my vape, and drink my coffee.

Boyd doesn’t seem to be in any sort of rush, but I assume this is the calm before the storm.

A moment of solace before the chaos that consumes Big Mafia Boyd’s everyday life.

Except when he finishes his cigarette and coffee, he lounges for a while before finally getting up.

“Want to join me for a shower?” he asks, holding out his hand.

“Um, sure!” I reply, taking his hand and letting him help me up. “You won’t even have to squat this time.”

“Nope,” he says, leading me back inside. “Mine is a lot more comfortable.”

“So is your bed,” I say. “I’m sleeping a lot better lately, but last night. That was heavenly.”

“I thought about telling Massimo to upgrade you to one of the penthouses, but you don’t have to go back to the Salvalagio,” he rumbles, stepping into the bathroom and starting the shower—all three showerheads come on at the same time. “You could just stay with me.”

“I guess that wouldn’t be much different,” I admit, considering his offer. “I mean, you stay in my room most nights. This would probably be a lot more comfortable for you.”

“We won’t break any more beds,” he chuckles, pulling me into the shower.

I can tell it isn’t just going to be a shower as soon as Boyd pulls me close and starts kissing me.

His lips and breath move against my skin as the water rains down on us from three angles.

Then he pushes me against the wall, digs his fingers into my ass and lifts me until I no choice but to cling to him.

“Already missed this,” he groans as his length sinks into me.

“Yeah, but this is supposed to be a normal day for you,” I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. “You don’t start any of them like this… I hope.”

“If you stay with me, I’ll be starting all of them like this,” he promises, moving inside me and forcing a series of soft whimpers. “And I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that at all.”

“No,” I agree as he continues to thrust into me.

His rhythm builds slowly at first. Deep, controlled, each movement deliberate as the water cascades over our bodies from every angle.

The warmth from the shower mixes with the heat between us, and I cling to him, my breathing heavy as he rocks his hips while kissing my neck.

A harder thrust causes me to slip against the wall and I groan.

“Don’t let go,” I whisper, my voice trembling with pleasure.

“I won’t,” he mutters, hands gripping me tighter as his pace intensifies.

The water drums softly against the tile, a constant backdrop to the sound of our bodies moving together.

But my heart thunders a lot harder in my chest. Boyd keeps me pressed to the warm wall behind me, the steam enveloping the both of us.

His lips roam while his fingers dig into my ass, keeping me balanced while ensuring I match his rhythm.

“This is where you belong,” he purrs into my ear. “Here. With me. All fucking mine.”

The words make me shiver, even as the heat inside me coils tighter, burning hotter.

I don’t have any arguments to offer to the contrary.

It would be easy to give in. Be his in every way.

Forget all about my life in Pine Grove. I can do my podcast from anywhere—and if it doesn’t work out, there are a lot more options in Las Vegas than there are back home.

Boyd shifts his grip and thrusts deeper, pulling a gasp from me that echoes in the shower and brings me back to the reality.

Then I get lost in the connection between us.

The slow, relentless buildup that makes my toes curl and my thoughts scatter.

My hands slip on his shoulders, my nails digging in enough to leave marks.

“You’re so fucking close,” he observes, his voice thick and low. “Why haven’t you asked for permission?”

“I don’t like having to ask every single time,” I breathe, groaning with pleasure. “Sometimes… it takes me out of the moment.”

“Fine,” he grunts. “You don’t have to ask permission unless I specifically say you do.”

“Oh, thank you!” I cry out, his next thrust sending me spiraling over the edge.

My body tenses, then erupts with bliss that makes my toes curl.

The pleasure sweeps through me like a wave, stealing my breath and flooding me with heat.

My pussy spasms on Boyd’s length. He speeds up, and I cry out when I get slammed into the tile, but his cock pulsates his release into me until he stills.

His mouth presses against my shoulder and he groans my name.

We stay like that for a long moment before he slowly pulls out, the water washing away the evidence of what we just did in a matter of seconds. Boyd gently lowers me until I feel the water under my feet. He keeps an arm around me to steady my shaky legs.

“Now what?” I whimper, catching my breath in the steam.

“Well,” he chuckles, reaching for a washcloth and bar of soap. “We still have to shower.”

I smile as he lathers it up.

I don’t think this is a normal day for Big Boyd, but I’m not going to complain.