The check in Augusta’s hand teases me as every twist in my stomach and voice in my head warns me not to reach out and take it from her. When I accepted the money last time, it felt different than her offer tonight. This time, it would mean signing my soul to her indefinitely. Too bad there aren’t employee reviews I can Google. But what am I thinking? I can’t accept her dirty cash. I refuse to be in debt to her or to dig myself even deeper into her world.

“Find someone else to be your dancing monkey,” I say. “I just want to go back to my mundane life.”

“I had a feeling you’d refuse this too.” Augusta reaches into her robe one last time and pulls out a new check. This one says fifty grand on it. “Imagine how much more you could make if you agree to be my eyes and ears.”

“I don’t care.”

“Do you honestly think you can return to normal life after this, Miguel? Your hands are filthy now. The cartel knows who you are. There is no going back, but under my wing, you will have my protection, allowing you to be untouchable.”

“What’s your idea of protection?”

“As I said, you will be invincible. As long as I call the shots, no one can touch you.”

What if Augusta is right, and my new normal is all this bullshit? What if, no matter where I go, I’ll always have to look over my shoulder for people who want to harm me? However, nothing is guaranteed in life, and neither is Augusta’s word. No matter what, when this is all over, Angie and I are leaving this shit hole to start a new life. We’ll figure out how to live peacefully without Augusta’s help.

“I can tell you’re conflicted.” Augusta tucks the check back into her robe. “So I’ll give you a few days to let it marinate.”

“My answer will still be no. Even if I wanted to take your offer and money, the moment I cash the check, the Feds will probably be all over me.”

“What?” she chuckles. “Our money is clean. There is nothing the Feds can go after.”

“You sure about that?”

“People will spend their lives trying to sully my family’s name and dethrone us, but the truth is, no one will ever have the influence and reach that my family does. Law enforcement has tried and failed time and time again. For every good cop, there are twice as many willing to turn a blind eye at my say so."

"No one is that indestructible, Augusta. Someone is always building up a stronger army and waiting to strike."

"Sure. They can try, and some have come close, like the Italian mob, but they fucked around and found out, too.”

The RICO charge… I think back on Sammy and the load of other mafiosos getting busted for racketeering. He spent twenty years in San Quintin prison because of it. Then I recall how Sammy mentioned wanting to take over the territory again. I rub the bridge of my nose. Sometimes it feels like this shit show will never end, and I’m the idiot who placed myself in the middle like a hot dog between two buns.

“Listen, it’s late, and I’m tired,” I say. “Can I leave now?”

Augusta takes a drag from her cigarette, her eyes studying me. She flicks ash off to the side, her words escaping her mouth in a stream of smoke, “Or you can spend the night.”

“No. Absolutely not.” I rear back, criss-crossing my hands. “You used me last time. In fact, my therapist helped me understand that what you did was sexual assault. So no fucking thank you.” 

“I did not sexually assault you!” Augusta springs to her feet. “How dare you say that.”

"But you did."

"You think I don't know what sexual assault looks like?" she barks. "When I was fourteen, my father's business partner used his age and authority to pin me against a desk and steal my innocence! And when I told my father, he said to toughen up and learn how to use what's between my legs to my advantage."

"I'm real sorry that happened to you, Augusta. I truly am, and it sounds like your father is a real piece of shit for not protecting you, but how do you not see that you did the exact same thing to me?"

"I did not rape you!" she shouts.

“But you did…” I begin counting off on my fingers. “You blackmailed me, threatened me, emasculated me, and dangled the information about Alma over my head. You figuratively pinned me against a desk, making it impossible to say no. So yeah, you did assault me, you fucking cunt.” 

“I did no—” Her words cut short, her gaze going to our feet, searching the ground as if digesting what I said. But then it’s like a light switch, her gaze meets mine, and the affliction knitting her brows has dissolved. Now, there is zero remorse or emotion in her expression. “I did what I had to do. You, more than anyone, should understand that. Now leave.” 

She turns on her heels, her robe swaying behind her. So I grab her arm and reel her back. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” She glares and yanks herself free. “You think I’m a monster. Well, so are you, Miguel! We both get off on having control over situations, and we both do whatever is necessary to accomplish a goal. Your hands are just as filthy as mine!”

“You’re joking. You have people killed at the snap of a finger when they get your coffee order wrong. You’re a psycho.”

“It takes one to know one.” She glares. “Don’t forget you came to me wanting to kill Richie because of some squabble at a nightclub. Are your precious feelings that delicate?”

“Well, at least I don’t have to spread my legs to get what I want, like you do. At least I don’t have to throw money around to get some head or have business sex like some street hooker with your washed-up, middle-aged twat. That’s why you’re alone and surrounded by guards because no one will go near you unless you pay them. Even your own sister doesn’t love you and wants you to fucking rot.” 

The words zoom like arrows, stabbing her chest like a bullseye.

“Get out of my house!” Augusta roars with a shove, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears. It’s a sad attempt. I barely budge. She wipes her eyes and turns away from me. “Leave! Now.”

So I do. I speed walk to the end of the garden, where the path meets the front of the mansion, then sprint for the gate, my phone in hand, hiring an Uber. I can’t get away from this shit hole fast enough. I’m steps away from exiting when there’s a whirr of something coming up fast behind me. I glance over my shoulder, and it’s Bernard’s gigantic self going full speed in a security golf cart. His body is too big for it, like a muffin top spilling over the waist of a tight pair of jeans. He skids to a halt, jumps out, and marches to me.

He isn't happy.

Air escapes my lungs with an explosive gasp when his meaty fist drives into my stomach. 

Holy shit. That’s going to bruise.

“That’s for making the boss cry.” He punches me in the gut again. “That’s for pissing me off.”

My body doubles over, so he grabs me by the hair to pull my head back, forcing me to look at him. He raises his hand, and I shut my eyes tight in a reflex. This is going to fucking sting. 

But he doesn’t knock my lights out.

“If you ever make her cry again, I will turn you into a human piñata,” he growls, and I open my eyes to find his finger wagging in my face. “The next time you return here, it better be to apologize. Got it?” 

Before I can answer, he punches me in the gut again, and I groan, clutching my abdomen. It’s like being hit with a sledgehammer. Bernard must be a mutant. 

“I said, got it?”

Coughing, I reply, “Got it.”

“Good. I’ll be in touch.” He hops onto the golf cart and zips away. 

What does he mean he’ll be in touch? The security gate rolls open behind me, so I stumble toward it. I’ll worry about it tomorrow.

For now, I want my bed.

And I want the soothing sound of Angie sleeping next to me.

∆∆∆

It’s not often I sleep in—if you call sleeping until nine, sleeping late. In my semi-conscious state, I roll over, expecting to drape my arm over Angie, but find her spot empty. 

I bolt upright, throwing off the covers, my ears twitching and heart racing, concentrating on the sounds of the apartment. My gun is under the bed, so I hop out to grab it, but there’s a sizzle in the air. So I freeze and wiggle my nose. Bacon? My shoulders relax, and I slump to the floor, resting my back against the bed. 

Nothing is wrong. It’s just a typical morning, and I’m losing it.

“Wakey, wakey, eggs, and bac—” Angie pauses in the doorway, her eyes wide, and curls in a messy bun.“Why are you holding a gun?”

“I panicked. You were gone.” 

“Just to the kitchen.” She points behind her with a spatula. 

“I panicked.” I shrug, and her face softens. She walks to me wearing an oversized t-shirt with bare legs.

“You got home late. Rough night?” 

I place the gun on the nightstand and blow out a breath. “Kay showed up at my mom’s.”

“What!”

“And took me to see the Sisters.”

“Why?”

“We’re free from our contract.”

“Good. Fuck that contract. Was that it?”

“Nope.” I shift my head side to side in a slow shake. “Augusta made me an offer.”

Angie squares her shoulders with a little scowl. “I swear if she spread her legs for you again.”

“She offered, but I said no.”

“Good!” She looks me in the eyes. “I will rip her tits right off if she thinks she can use you again. I was wrong for throwing you to the wolves before, but I’ll never do that again.” She brings her hand to my chest, over my heart. “I’m going to protect this now.” 

A flutter ripples through my stomach. “Kiss me.” 

“If I must…”

“You must.” I cup my hands under her ass and haul her onto my lap, causing a giddy squeal from Angie’s mouth. 

However, her smile fades as we stare into each other’s eyes, our pulses syncing and the cadence of our breaths steady. There’s serenity in feeling safe with someone, and it’s wild to think, not long ago, I hated Angie's guts. I even yelled horrible things in her face and made her cry. 

But now I want to protect her.

I want to protect the progress we’ve made.

Brushing aside a few curls from her face, I nuzzle my nose against hers, causing a laugh to bubble from her throat. I catch her laugh with my mouth—our lips connecting, then parting. She invades me, and I invade her. An exchange sweeter than anything else I could ever need. I break away, but only to trail kisses from her neck down to her shoulder and arm, which still has a bandage. 

“Careful,” Angie breathes. “It’s still tender.”

So I press a gentle kiss, remembering how that night could have been so much worse. Angie could have lost her life. 

“Hold on,” I say, cupping her ass again and getting to my feet. 

She half giggles, half gasps, her legs pretzeling around me and holding on tight with one arm. I ease her onto the bed, our gazes locked, and we both know what’s coming next. I rest her legs against my chest and kiss one of her ankles. My heart rate has gone from steady to erratic in seconds, the pulse vibrating in my ears. 

Gliding my hands up her thighs and under her shirt to her panties, I curl my fingers around the lace fabric and begin sliding them down. A leopard pattern reveals itself, and I absolutely love animal print on lingerie. I slip the panties up her legs and off, catching an intoxicating whiff of her arousal on them. It’s a scent that drives every man wild, and I’d wear the undies on my face, inhale deeply, and bathe in it if I could.

She’s ready, and I’m so fucking ready, too.

So, I push my boxers to the floor, kick out of them, and reach for a condom in the nightstand.

“Wait!” Angie blurts, and I freeze mid-rummage for a rubber. “I want to feel you.”

“Not a good idea."

“Just for a second.” She tries sitting up, reaching between us for my erection. “I need to feel you.”

With the gold foil in hand, I glance at it, then glance at her. “Before we do anything sans protection, we should get tested first. Considering recent events…”

“Fucking Augusta,” she mutters and gives up, her back thudding against the mattress with a huff. “Ruins everything.”

“Then we won’t let her, but for now…” I tear the foil with my teeth and roll the condom on. 

But I need her closer. I grab Angie’s hips and pull her ass to the edge of the bed, so we can fuck while I stand and use her ankles as anchors. She tenses.

“Relax…” I keep her legs flush with my chest and hold her ankles with one hand while guiding my erection to her glistening entrance. 

I've missed seeing how wet I can make her.

And I’ve missed seeing how our bodies connect. 

“That feels so good.” Angie covers her face with her hands, my cock stroking the wet folds and teasing her clitoris. 

“Look at me.”

However, Angie keeps her eyes covered, her hips rocking toward me, yearning for more of my gentle strokes. 

“Look at me,” I repeat, and abandon my dick to remove her hands, coaxing a growl from her. “I want you to watch me make you come.”

“Fine,” she sighs, but I know she’s excited. “Just stop talking and get inside me already.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Bracing her legs against me, I guide myself inside her, and she’s so tight and slick with arousal that I might come right now from how good it feels.

But I want this to last.

So, I take each ankle in one hand and use them to ground me as I slowly thrust in and out, in and out—like getting a taste before taking a big bite. Angie releases a moan, our gazes locked, her hands attempting to reach me. She loves kissing during sex, so I know she wants my face near hers. I prop her ankles on each of my shoulders, opening her legs just enough to lean forward and drag my hands up her arms, thread my fingers through hers, and pin them against the mattress. 

Our mouths graze, her moans invading my mouth like a hum, our hips meeting in gentle yet insatiable thrusts. I need to feel her skin against mine, so I yank my shirt off and push her t-shirt up, revealing her breasts. My hands go to them, my mouth sucking them in. 

Angie releases a shutter-like moan, “Keep moving. Please don’t stop.”

“As you wish.” 

She’s so wet that I can hear it when I straighten my posture, speed up, and clasp Angie’s ankles while losing myself in the tempo. We stare into each other's eyes, her lips forming around soft moans that fill the room and swell my chest. Her sound is like a melody I want to hear for the rest of my life. We’re perfect.

 She’s perfect.

But then she recoils with a yelp, her legs kicking away from me as she rolls onto her side, clutching herself.

“Fuck,” I panic. “You ok?”

“Too hard,” she groans.

“I’m sorry. Shit…” I crawl onto the bed and pull her curled body into me. “I’m so sorry.”

“I guess we got a little carried away,” she tries to laugh, but she’s still holding her abdomen.

“Sorry.” I kiss her neck.

She looks at me over her shoulder. “How about I get on top and control the tempo?”

“We don’t have to finish if it hurts.”

“Are you kidding me?” Angie scoffs. “We are finishing. You wanted me to watch you make me come. It’s happening. Now get on your back.” 

“Yes, ma’am!”

For the rest of the morning, I let Angie do things her way, teaching me how to make love to her with positions that don’t hurt. As much as I like to be dominant in the bedroom, I don’t mind making adjustments for her.

I think it’s worth it.

*
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This chap is dedicated to those of you who have been waiting patiently for Miguel and Angie to roll in the sheets again 😌