She nodded.

“Tell me,” he insisted.

“I remember,” she said on a harsh moan as he withdrew and pushed back in.

“You like the way I fill you?” he asked.

She nodded.

“You like that these people are watching me fuck you?”

Another nod.

“You’re a dirty girl, Ms. Adorite.”

“You haven’t seen nothin’ yet,” she told him. “Now shut up and fuck me.”

“I’ve got a condition of my own,” he whispered harshly, lodging himself to the hilt and stilling.

“What’s that?” she asked, her fingernails digging into his back.

“No more men. Only me.”

“You think you’re that good?” she asked, her eyes reflecting her skepticism.

“I know I am,” he said confidently. “And you know it, too.”

He retreated, pushed in again, continuing to watch her face.

“Fuck me, Jase. Fuck me. Please.”

“If you agree,” he countered. “Only me from now on.”

He had fully expected her to argue, but to his utter amazement, Ashlynn nodded in agreement, so he gave her exactly what she asked for.

Holding her leg up to open her wider, he began nailing her to the wall, never caring that the people around them could be watching—and likely were. The only thing that mattered was the intensity of Ashlynn’s gaze, the warmth of her pussy gripping his dick, the way she said his name over and over as he impaled her. He wasn’t gentle with her, but he knew she didn’t want that. Ashlynn enjoyed rough sex, but more importantly, she wanted a way to keep sex and love separate. From what he’d seen, she was good at that.

But Jase wasn’t worried about convincing her to love him. Not yet.

That would come with time.

So, as he slammed home, feeling the smooth walls of her pussy grip him, he vowed that one day he would convince her that sex and love weren’t the same thing, yet they did go together.

You just had to find the right person.

And she was it for him.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Not exactly how they’d planned it, but...

Present day

Saturday night, November 7 th

One thing about being a highly respected mafia boss, when you made a phone call insisting that a meeting take place, people didn’t argue. In a matter of minutes, Max had done what Leyton hadn’t been able to do all damn day.

Now, as Leyton followed Max into the small Italian restaurant, he was feeling a little jumpy.

Moroso had agreed to meet with Max tonight, to discuss options. Little did Moroso know, but they were actually going to talk about the only option available—cancelling the contract on Ashlynn. Otherwise, things were going to get ugly.

The place was cleared out, as Max had instructed it to be. Not even the owner was present, which didn’t surprise Leyton, either.

Marco Moroso—a short, heavyset man, probably in his late thirties, possibly early forties, with dark hair and a long, straight nose—sat at a table next to another man, both with a glass of wine in their hands, their expressions bored as Max and Leyton joined them. Rock and Dane had come along for the ride, both joining them inside while they had four other men standing guard outside. From what Leyton could tell, there were three guys, clearly Moroso’s men, standing guard in the corners. Everyone was armed to the teeth, but that wasn’t unexpected, either.

“Adorite,” Moroso greeted but didn’t bother getting up.

His lack of respect for Max wasn’t earning him any points tonight.

Max took a seat across from Moroso, leaning back in his chair as though this were just another casual conversation.

Leyton didn’t sit. Instead, he stood behind Max as he’d done in the past, holding his favorite assault rifle at the ready.

“You wanted to talk?” Moroso said. “Talk.”

Max’s head cocked to the side. “I think you’re forgettin’ who you’re talkin’ to.”

Moroso smiled, a slimy devil-may-care smile. “I’ve got shit to do. I need to hurry this along if you don’t mind.”

“Actually, I do mind,” Max said more firmly. “We’ve got an issue. And until that’s resolved, your other shit is gonna have to wait.”

Moroso’s expression hardened. “Your sister killed my brother.”

“Oh, that’s fucking bullshit,” Max retorted. “First of all, my sister didn’t kill anyone. But if she did, Tony was nothin’ more than an errand boy. Half brother or not.”

“He was still family.”

“He was a fucking rat is what he was,” Max countered. “But yeah, that does about sum it up. I see it now. The family resemblance and all.”

Moroso cleared his throat. “You better watch yourself.”

“Is that a threat?” Max asked.

“It’s a promise,” Moroso declared.

Rock growled, clearly not impressed with Moroso’s response. The rough sound drew Moroso’s attention, and it appeared he’d just realized he was there. Rock was not the type of guy anyone wanted to go up against.

“Where’re my guns?” Max asked when Moroso glanced over at him once again.

Moroso shrugged. “Don’t know nothin’ about your guns.”

“No? That’s not what Tony said, right before his tongue was cut out of his fucking mouth,” Max relayed, his tone oddly calm. It was apparent he’d just lost his patience with the man.

Moroso’s eyes widened briefly, but he managed to mask his reaction quickly. “Is that why you brought me here? To call me a thief?”

“I’ve got people lookin’ for the guns,” Max explained. “And if I find out you’ve got them, it’s not gonna be pretty.”

“Is that a threat?” Moroso asked, tossing Max’s question back at him.

Max leaned forward. “It’s a fucking promise. And I’ll give you an hour to cancel the hit on my sister.”

“Or…?”

“I heard your brother’s appeal was denied,” Max relayed, obviously changing the subject.

Moroso’s eyes widened slightly, but he tried to hide his surprise.

“I’ve got more power than you’ll ever dream of having, Moroso. If you think puttin’ a hit out on my sister is gonna get you where you wanna go, you’re delusional.”

“All a matter of time,” Moroso replied.

Leyton’s finger itched to pull the trigger, to put Moroso out of his fucking misery. But he managed to refrain, watching the interaction between the two men.

Max considered Moroso for a moment. “You’ve got a sister, right?”

Moroso didn’t respond.

“How would you feel if there was a contract out on Sabrina?” Max asked, referring to Moroso’s sister by name. “It would suck for little Joseph to grow up without a mommy, wouldn’t it?”

Moroso hissed, but Max didn’t react whatsoever. For as long as Leyton had known Max, he’d never hurt a woman or a child, but he knew that Max wasn’t above making threats to get people to do what he expected them to do.

“One fucking hour,” Max snarled. “That’s all the time you’ve got. If the hit’s not cancelled and I don’t have my guns, your sister and your nephew will find themselves relocated until it’s done.”

With that, Max stood. Leyton waited until Rock and Sal flanked Max before backing out of the restaurant, holding his assault rifle in front of him as he did. He didn’t trust these bastards and for good reason.

They were bottom-feeders. Bottom-feeders who were clearly looking to make a name for themselves.

Leyton only hoped like hell they didn’t succeed. Because in order to do that…

No, he wasn’t going to think about it. If he did, Moroso wouldn’t be walking out of that building ever again.

Not that killing him wasn’t a good idea, because it was. It definitely was.

Chapter Thirty-Six

About damn time.