Page 10 of Dark Alliance
She cries out that douchebag’s name as she climaxes, her muscles trembling.
I despise Dane Ryder, but I love Cat’s pussy, so I orgasm right on the heels of hers, pulling out and shooting all over her olive-toned, rock-hard abs while she keeps shuddering through the waves of her own pleasure.
What a magnificent body she has. Curvy and muscular. Feminine and tough.
Just right.
I crash down on the bed beside her, panting.
Before we even say good night, Cat passes out. She’s asleep in minutes, curled up around a fluffy pillow.
As I reflect on the evening, I study her lush lashes, those rosy lips, her cute earlobes. Beneath a thin, diamond bracelet, a honeysuckle tattoo decorates the inside of her right wrist.
She didn’t say much about herself. She mentioned her family, briefly, while leaving out the whole mafia thing. Truthfully, I’m surprised she told me anything at all.
I gave her even less. I was honest about my mother loving art and encouraging my father to collect pieces, but I also implied she was still alive and I had two loving and supportive parents. Utter bs.
I guess Dan Ryder had a happier childhood than I did.
Playing make-believe over drinks was fun enough, but the appeal withered once we got to bed. I wanted to hear her screammyname. To roll her over, take her hard, smack her ass, and get a little rough.
To do what Dane Ryder wouldn’t. Becausehe’sa gentleman, I refrained.
I slip out of bed and into my clothes. Before disappearing into the night, I find a notepad and a pen. Dane’s not the kind of guy to fuck and run.
I had a great night, but I’ve got a five a.m. wakeup call. Life of an actor.
As I reread, I decide the message will make her smile. Then I sign “his” name all big and bubbly, scrawling it diagonally across the notepad like those ego-riddled A-listers do on headshots.Dane Ryder.
Once the door clicks shut behind me, I experience a strange tug in my chest.
Regret? Longing?
Maybe both, along with shock. That was the best date I’ve had since I figured out what to do with my dick.
Despite what my research indicated, Caterina Ricci is fun.
My mind wanders to Brody. Did he feel like this when he first met Trinity?
Or is this the ruse talking? The thrill of pulling off a con on a Ricci?
Cat’s already full of surprises.
And our time together is only beginning.
Chapter 4
Caterina
It’s absolutely vile that on a day I’d love to sleep in, I’m obligated to attend a family meeting before noon. Especially after a night with a god like Dane Ryder.
Of course. You’re always on the clock, Cat.
We host most meetings in my father’s office at the Ricci estate, but today we’re in the den attached to my father’s room on the main floor. The room is showy enough—classy black leather furniture, dark wood tables, a stone fireplace, eggshell walls covered in classic pastoral artwork—but our goal is comfort.
We all decided that Father should keep up appearances as a healthy, energetic leader, and limiting his physical movements preserves that image. The short walk from his bedroom to the den is easier on his body than traversing the whole house.
He’s got a tote-sized baggie full of pill bottles, but nothing helps, not even the IV fluids meant to filter the toxins that his liver can no longer handle. Hepatic encephalopathy, they call it. I’ve researched what I can, and though the condition is supposed to be reversible, the treatment’s not working. As a result, we’re forced to watch my father’s slow, uncomfortable decline toward death.
