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CHAPTER 13.3

C H A P T E R - T H I R T E E N

He had a large workforce. He was driving a top-of-the-line Camaro. He put up sophisticated security measures. He could afford high-end designer shoes. He could heat a vast warehouse to the point that he could walk about barefoot and bare-chested, and I was perfectly content in only his shirt and thong.

"You live in an old warehouse," I stated flatly.

"Yeah," he acknowledged the obvious.

"There's a lot of room here, Falcone."

"Yeah," he said.

"A lot of space," I continued. He smiled and sipped his coffee. I did the same thing.

"Don't like close," he said as his mug slipped from his lips. "We need more space."

Interesting.

"All right, you've got it."

He grinned again, set his coffee mug down, pulled mine from my grasp, set it down as well, and then slipped into me from the front, his hands slipping around my waist to my back, wrapping around and drawing me to him.

I looked up as I rested my hands on his chest.