Trapped in his End Game (Series)

I might die tonight.

It keeps running through my head in a soft whisper.

I expect it to happen. They’re reckless. They’ve already shot at us in a public restaurant surrounded by family. What the fuck do they care about rules? The only thing that gives me hope is that John will be there, mediating this meeting.

Still, why the fuck am I making it so easy for them?

Because it’s better to walk to your own death. To actually choose it, instead of it jumping out at you, striking you down like a lightning bolt.

Staring out into the city from my apartment makes me breathe easier. I look down at the quiet rumble of traffic, the haze rising over Central Park, and I feel removed from all of the politics within the families. Sometimes, when I feel guilty, I just stare out of this window and remind myself that we’re all a bunch of ants scurrying around. What will it matter to the universe if one of them is gone?

But I’m not floating in space. I’m a human being. I’m just as much of a slave as the rest of these poor bastards walking around this city, but at least I know who I am.Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

At least I accomplished that.

I never got to do all the things I wanted. Never saw Italy, never got married, or had kids.

My heart pounds a dreadful beat. I want all those things. I never realized how badly I wanted them until I met her. When there’s nothing between you and death but your intelligence or your guts, it’s easy. In the past, I would have gladly walked in the line of fire for Jack because we were part of the same family. This was my life.

Now she is.

Adriana sits at the small round table that she dragged near the windows, pouring over sheaves of paper almost spilling from the table.

I cannot deny the small sting of envy when I look down over her shoulder, at the notes strewn with mathematical symbols and phrases I’ll never understand. She’s so much smarter than I am. A part of me wonders what my life would be like if I had gone to college. What career would I have chosen?

I can’t even fathom honest living anymore.

She wraps her arm around my leg and squeezes my thigh, turning her head to give me a kiss on my stomach. I feel tightness in my chest that strengthens when I lay my hand on her gorgeous head. Words can’t describe the happiness I feel when I see her ring gleaming on her finger, to know that she’s mine.

“Vince, did you say you had to be somewhere tonight?”

The happiness deflates like a balloon bursting.

“Yeah.”

Her head turns as she looks up at me with a slight frown. “Something wrong?”

Oh, you don’t even know.

Instead, I smile at her. She nuzzles my stomach and her mouth kisses a trail up my abdomen. My cock stiffens in my pants and she smiles when she sees it. She stands up, hands around my waist.

This fucking woman can get me hard so easily. Every stroke of her hands sets off a million nerve endings. She kisses my chest as her hand reaches around my thigh and strokes my cock. It hardens uncomfortably.

“God damn it, Ade.”

I move her hand away from my cock, and she gives me a wide grin. It makes me want to shove my cock down her throat to get rid of her gloating smile. Grabbing her shoulders, I pin her against the wall as I seek out those gorgeous, full lips. My tongue sweeps across her bottom lip, and I pull down her jeans. My hand spreads across her smooth belly and I dip my fingers behind her panties. Reaching back, I stroke her soaking clit and she moans into my mouth.

My woman is so hot for me that I can feel her wetness all over my hands. My two fingers tease through her folds and stab upwards. I feel her around me, as smooth as the inside of my cheek. She kisses me back desperately as I twist my fingers.

Goddamn, it’s hot.

“Vince-oh, Vince.”

My cock is so hard in my pants that it’s painful.

I love her. I want to fuck her. I’m going to tease her like she teased me.

“You want me so badly, don’t you?”

Her mouth opens in another gasp as I wrench my hand. “Yes!”

I chuckle in her ear, loving the way her body writhes against mine. Her nipples peak through her t-shirt and I’m tempted to grab her tits, but I know that if I do, I won’t be able to stop myself. My hand slides from her panties and she looks at me questioningly, her face flushed.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to leave.” I can’t quite suppress my grin as she grabs my waist.

“No, you can’t just-”

“Yes, I can,” I say, shooting her a warning look.

My fingers are still wet with her juice. I raise them to her face, and brush them against her lips. She leans forward and sucks them clean, probably hoping I’ll break down and fuck her.

I don’t.

When they’re clean, I tap her face with my hand. “Be a good girl and don’t masturbate. Wait for me. If you do it anyway, I’ll know.”

“Oh, come on!”

I push her away gently and I hurry out the door. Self-control can only go so far, and I’ve nearly spent all of mine.

It’s only till I’m outside that I realized I forgot to tell her that I love her.