Page 71 of His Kidnapped Queen
I put my head against his chest and my eyes drift shut.
The mobster’s heartbeat lulls me to sleep.
20
LUCA
I don’t sleep, just listen to the sounds of her heavy breathing, her slight snores. I extract myself from her as moonlight streams into the window. I check my watch—just after midnight.
I should have left right after I pleasured her in the bath. I have no idea what I’m doing, if I’m honest. I’ve been trying to stay away from her, but as soon as Diego said she was in the bath…
All I could do was picture her naked, and it was over from there.
I suppose some part of me felt guilty for how I’d left her so suddenly after we had sex, but how am I supposed to act? She’s my prisoner. My enemy.
I just can’t keep my fucking hands off her.
I shouldn’t have slept with her last night, shouldn’t have had her in my arms for hours like that. It’s not helping my confused emotions.
Diego looks up from his book when I walk into the hallway.
“You leaving?” he asks idly. He doesn’t ask me why I carried our naked prisoner to bed. Thank god Diego is a man of few words.
I nod. “Just want to go for a drive. Clear my head.”
“Aye aye, boss,” Diego says with a sloppy salute, and I walk out of the cottage, sliding into my car.
I can check up on some of the shipments we have coming in, go down to the warehouses. It’s a ninety-minute drive into the city, but it’s not like I feel sleepy, so I have nothing else to do.
I think about Sophia all the way there. I wonder what her middle name is, who her parents are. I want to know more, and I wish I could say it’s just because I’ve always believed you should know your enemies. I think about her breasts, just enough for a handful, her perfect ass.
Why does this woman have such a hold on me? I’ve never been in love, never felt any type of way about a woman except to warm my bed. So what’s different about Sophia? She’s beautiful, but so many women are.
Most of them, in my estimation.
Maybe it’sbecauseshe’s a cop? I have to admit that’s part of the reason I went after her in the first place—the thrill of something taboo, something that might get me caught.
I drive up to the first warehouse, one that’s dilapidated. We haven’t fixed it up yet, didn’t want the feds to get any ideas about where we’re storing things. Sudden construction on an inactive warehouse would definitely tip them off.
When I pull up, Arturo comes out to meet me, his face slightly panicked.
“Something wrong,Caputo?”
I shake my head, getting out of the car. “Nothing wrong. Just wanted to do a random check.”
“Nico was here earlier,” he admits, and I freeze.
“What the fuck was Nico doing here?’
He shrugs. “Same as you. Wanted to check in on the shipment. I wouldn’t let him.”
I let out a sigh of relief. Bless Arturo and his hatred for my brother.
“Good. Don’t let him stick his fingers into any of the shipments.”
“I know. They’re sticky.”
Especially when it comes to the cocaine shipments we’ve been getting from Columbia.
