Rita"Did you think I fantasized in soft core?" he asks with a sigh. "Help me up."I give him a hand. We stand side by side in front of the wall again, looking upward. I'm trying not to think about him touching himself, touching his pierced cock, and thinking about me.But a strange thrill of pride runs down my spine.This man, this handsome, closed-off man, finds me so attractive that he touches himself to daydreams of me."How come you haven't had a serious girlfriend in a while?" I ask suddenly as I walk forward and start to make another climb."You know that's a borderline insulting question, right?""Come on, seriously. Do you work too much?""Yes," he says. "But that's not it.""Why not then? Just haven't found the right girl?" I glance down and he nods slightly, but he's looking off in the distance, at the far end of the gym."I had a bad experience. Let's say she broke my heart, like I told you before, and leave it at that. Now, I want to try again. Double or nothing?""You ha
ScarRita's pissed and she doesn't try to hide it.I wasn't trying to get all controlling asshole on her. I was only trying to tease a little bit, draw attention to the fact that I notice what she wears, and I fucking like it.Instead, she took it like I was being a dick.But it's fine. She's right. We don't need to get close, we only need to get through this.Friday comes around. I've been skipping out on work to cram in Operation Know Rita, and now it's time for one final test. "We're going to dinner tonight with my friends," I tell her in the morning. I make her coffee, though she barely glances at me. "You need to meet them before we leave for Gloucester.""Fine," she says, banging around the kitchen, getting herself some cereal. "Anything else?""It's an upscale place. Extremely upscale. Wear something nice."She turns to me. "Oh, good, so you're going to start talking about my clothes again?" She gestures at her sweats and sweatshirt. "You think this is too sexy?"I stare at her
ScarThe Oak Club is the most exclusive invitation-only club on the planet. More exclusive than Bohemian Grove. More exclusive than the nuclear bunkers under the White House. It sits at the end of a long, private driveway, hidden behind high concrete walls lined with crushed glass and dotted by security cameras. Men in dark suits wander the scrubby grounds between the public world and the private oasis beyond. The scrubland gives way to a gorgeous ocean of green grass, shrubs, flowers, and trees, with the club itself in the center of all that gorgeously manicured plant life.The building is a massive marble beauty, like a temple to an ancient god. Huge ornate doors sit at the front surrounded by columns at least a story tall. Luxury vehicles are parked in a small lot off to the side, and a valet meets us as soon as I pull around front."I haven't been here in a while," I murmur to Rita as she takes my arm. We head up the steps and in through the main front door. Security knows me alre
ScarI watch him go, not sure what to make of that. Carmine's softened over the years, especially since he met Brice. He's been trying to take his family legit, but it's difficult to give up generations of criminal enterprises, especially when they make a ton of money.Still, he's angrier than I would've guessed. Might be that he's worried I'll get him embroiled with the Callahans, but he has to know I'd never do that to him.Maybe it's as simple as he's worried about me. Maybe even worried about Rita.But regardless of how he feels, I know Carmine would never do something that would get me killed, like tell anyone about my situation."He'll get over it," Ford says then grins at me. "Wife, huh? She's hot. Good for you.""Thanks." I squeeze his shoulder, a cold doubt creeping into my guts.Carmine thinks I'm going to get myself killed, and what if he's right? What if I dragged Rita into something I can't handle?But no, we can do this. That's why I told Ford about my spark with Rita—th
RitaA driver from the Callahan family meets us at the airport. He's a big guy, burly, dark hair. Never takes off his sunglasses. "Let me know if you need anything," he says as I climb into the back seat with Scar. "Shouldn't be too long of a trip. Sit back and relax." He puts up the divider as the town car pulls out."Seatbelt," Scar says. I roll my eyes at him, but buckle up. He leans over toward me a few minutes into the trip, hand on my thigh. I look at him, surprised. His lips brush against my cheek and I instinctively move to push him away, about to ask him what the hell he's doing, but he holds me back. "We're in character, wife," he whispers in my ear. "Don't assume they're not listening. From here on out, even if we're alone, we're not alone."I take a deep breath. Right, we're in enemy territory now.I reach up and stroke my fingers through his thick hair. I smile at the way his gaze sharpens, unable to help the thrill that runs down my spine. I love when I make him look at
Scar"Scar! Rita!" Orin walks over to us, arms spread. Rita clings close to my arm. Orin's in a polo shirt, khaki shorts, and boat shoes. If I didn't know better, I'd assume he's one of a dozen other rich assholes that spend their summers around here. "Great of you to make it.""Wouldn't have missed it for the world," I say, shaking his hand. I kiss Molly on the cheek. "Lovely to see you. This is my wife, Rita.""Aren't you a pretty thing," Molly says, beaming. Orin's wife is tall, broad, all hips and big brown hair. She grins as she gives Rita a tight hug. "How'd you end up with a man like Scar Scarfoni? You know how we feel about lawyers.""You... love them?" Rita asks, looking panicked.Molly bursts out laughing. "All right, dear, you'll do fine. Come on inside. I'll have Robert bring your bags in. Do you want a drink?""Drink would be lovely," Rita says, casting me a look.The girls disappear, leaving me out front with Orin. His friendly grin narrows into an appraising smile. "Did
ScarWe find the girls on the back porch drinking champagne. Rita seems at ease, smiling, her hair pulled back. Molly's in a big flowery dress with a hat shoved down over her unruly curls. "You're lucky Orin invited you out here," she says once we're sitting. "He's always such an uptight bastard in the city.""Hey now, easy there," Orin says, but he's grinning affectionately. He kisses his wife on the cheek. "You're right though, as always. Minus the bastard part, you old cougar."The idea that Orin Callahan would let his wife joke about him like that would've been absurd a day ago. But I'm starting to get a sense of how he lives his life. There's the crime lord Orin and the beach going Orin, and those men are very different people."He's more relaxed out here," Molly says, patting her husband on the knee. "I'm always encouraging him to spend more time at the beach house, but he always says his business is in Boston, and that's where he should be.""What's a man without work?" Orin as
ScarFucking obscene.That was the correct word for Rita in that bikini.It shouldn't get to me like this. It's a bathing suit—women wear them all the time. I've seen thousands of good-looking girls in tiny bikinis in my life, but I've never stared at them like I keep staring at Rita.I can't tear my eyes away.She's a goddamn miracle. Long legs, toned stomach, breasts like heaven, ass like a symphony.I want to shove her bathing suit bottoms aside, slide my fingers between her legs, and taste her moans on my tongue.Instead, I sit on a chair next to Orin while Rita chats with Molly, the two women lounging on towels in the sun."This is the life, my boy," Orin says, grinning. His sons are in the ocean, boogie-boarding. "This is why we do what we do.""Can I ask you something?" I struggle to look at the old gangster instead of at my wife—my fake wife."Please do." He tilts his head back, smiling, sunglasses over his eyes."Does this make the risk worth it?"He lets out a soft grunt, li