alishah > Recent Status Updates

I glare at him. “You didn’t listen to any of Rory’s calls?” “Nah. I’m not nosy, like you.”
“Don’t worry; you weren’t missing out on much, brother.
Her confessions were shit.”
Before he can jump up and swing for me, I stroll out to the
entryway, flipping him off over my shoulder.

I don’t dare breathe; I’m too scared something cute will come out. Instead, I fist the fabric at my sides, and watch him cross the threshold.
“Wait,” I blurt out.
He turns at the top of the stairs, hopeful eyes clashing with mine.
“Black.”
They narrow. “What?”
“That’s the color I want my Birkin.” I pause. “The first
one.”
Then I slam my broken door shut.

moaning. “Another orgasm isn’t going to cut it.”
He moves up to my throat again, smiling against it. “No? Then what do you want? Diamonds? A car? Two cars? An island, Queenie? A Birkin in every color? Fuck,” He licks the sensitive spot behind my ear. “I’ll give you the world in every color if you want it.”
I can’t help but grunt a noise of approval. It’s the hustler in me, I guess. “Yes.”

I’m too distracted. Can barely hear him over the pounding in my ears. “I didn’t give it to her; she won it.”
“Did she win Mama’s necklace, too?”
My gaze slides down from the rotting beam to his. “What?”
“The four-leaf clover necklace. Did she win that off you too?”
But by the dry humor dancing behind his swollen eyelids, I know he already knows the answer.

chapter 17 is too good

They look beautiful, magpie,” he says. “You’re getting good at this.”
I flick a glance to the cookies. They’re so burnt they look like they’ve been salvaged from a house fire, but it’s then I realize; he’d do anything for her. If Rory asked him to wear a Santa suit, he’d do it. I used to think he’d turned into a simp, but fuck, I’m starting to understand that feeling now

Biting back a smirk, I regard the panting dog nestled in the crook of my brother’s arm. With her golden curls and big brown eyes, she actually looks like my sister-in-law, but I’m in enough shit with Angelo that I think it best not to tell him his wife looks like a dog.

“Thank you,” I whisper.
I don’t specify what for. For shielding me from the storm, for killing Martin O’Hare. For giving me the two most ridiculous orgasms of my life. For the fucking key ring.
But the thunder is loud; my acknowledgment is quiet.
The only reason I know Rafe heard it is that his lips press down on my forehead, giving me the most gentle of kisses.

“I like inflicting pain on men, even just for a little while.”
I knew I liked this girl. My attention drops to the gun.

“He means, he gets why Rafe is obsessed with you now. You talk almost as much shit as he does.”

Angelo Visconti killed them for me like it was nothing.

Holy crow, I’m so in love with this man it makes my teeth ache. Not just because he’s handsome and protective and loving, but because he’s bad. Real darn bad, and it appeals to the darkness inside of me, too.

“They tried to pin me to a desk and rape me.”
The silence is blistering. I steal a look at Angelo, and the indifferent expression on his face scares me. I flinch when he suddenly jumps to his feet and grabs his cell and car keys off the bedside table.
I bolt upright. “Where are you going?”
“Give. Me. Names.”
“Angelo—”
“Names, Rory.” His voice is rough and strangled, like he’s trying—

Gabe and I stand shoulder to shoulder as we watch Angelo’s Aston
Martin disappear down the hill, taking a piece of me with it.

Beside me, he shifts. “Shame.”
I turn. “What is?”
“I was looking forward to listening to your call. I never could stand uncle
Alberto.”

I nod, slowly taking it all in. “But you hate Devil’s Dip.”
His eyes harden on the windshield. “But I don’t hate you.”

What’s going on?!” I gasp, dizzy from the sudden movement and the feeling of him touching me.
“I’m taking what’s mine”
“Yours?”
He drops me onto the passenger seat of his car and leans against the door
frame. “Yeah. A capo needs a wife. Guess I choose you.”
Heat rips through my veins, and I can feel my heart sewing itself back
together.
“You guess?” I whisper, looking up at hi

It doesn’t feel like my hand that reaches into my purse and pulls out the gun. Doesn’t feel like my thumb that flips off the safety catch, or my fingers that press the barrel against his temple. Doesn’t sound like my voice either, when I choke out, “I said, take me to Devil’s Dip.” Desperation. It’s crawling around my body like a nasty virus, making me do the unthinkable. A handful of days ago, I’d

“Yes?”
Danger sparking in his eyes, he pushes his thumb further into my mouth, and with wetness pooling between my thighs, I open my mouth wider to take him all in.
“Out of all my sins, you’re my favorite.”

I feel her throat bob against my palm as she swallows. “The moment he leaves the Preserve, or even goes inside our own house, his long-term memory goes.”
Her jaw grinds and she catches a sob before it forms.
“He doesn’t recognize me outside of the forest, Angelo. That’s why it can’t be knocked down, and that’s why we can’t leave. What my father and I have, it doesn’t exist outside of it.”

Shaking my head in disbelief, I fist Aurora’s panties and bring them up to my lips. They are still warm and wet.

I inhale deeply, filling my soul with the scent of a girl that will never be mine.

“You’re wearing the same panties you were on Halloween.” With my cock throbbing, I slide the pen under the thin, pink fabric and gently push it to the side. “You know, I think I have the matching bra somewhere,” I say dryly.
“Uh, yeah. Can I, um, get it back?”
“No, it’s a souvenir.”
“Of what?” she whispers thickly.
“Of the time I almost fucked the hottest girl I’ve ever met.”

“Open the glove box. There’s something in there for you.” Frowning, I do.
Then my smile stretches into a wide grin.

first he gave her his jacket and now this 🤭🤭

“Fuck, Aurora. I love it when you scream for me. It makes me want to spread that perfect pussy and shove my cock inside you and give you something to really scream about.”

MY HEART SLAMS AGAINST the hood of my car, and a similar thumping sound beats in my ears, fueled by disbelief. This can’t be happening. Can it? The November chill coasts over my bare backside, a
reminder that I’m not imagining this. I really am naked from the waist down, bent over a car in the cold light of day with a makeshift gag in my mouth. In public.
Oh, and, I’m about to feel the leather wrath of Angelo