Alessandra Torre - End of the Innocence

“Don’t stop, she’s close.” Brad leaned down, kissed me, deep and hard, his hand on my neck, my eyes stealing a glimpse of his cock. He lifted off my mouth, his hand tightening slightly. “God, you’re beautiful.” He turned his head to Marc, keeping his eyes on me. “Faster.”

Marc obeyed, giving me more, harder. Exactly. What. I ...

Fuck.

I took a gasp for air, getting one final look before my world went black, and I came on Marc’s cock.

Moments later, I tasted the man’s completion—hot and wet in my mouth. Brad finished the job inside of me. With Marc leaving us alone, Brad’s hard body above mine, one hand in my hair, his kiss on my lips, I wrapped my legs tightly, felt his shudder, and celebrated one more loosening of my sexual strings.

The blindfold. I didn’t need it.

I blinked, the window coming into focus, the coastline through it showing a mess of skyscrapers and beach umbrellas. Close to home. I turned to find Brad’s eyes on me.

“You’re awake.”

I nodded, covering a yawn. Trying to curl my knees into the plane’s seat, I was stopped by the belt. “I’m exhausted.”

He smiled. “We didn’t get much sleep this weekend. Want to hit bed early?”

“I’ll hit my own bed early.” I closed my eyes, leaning over until my head rested on his shoulder.

“Stay at my house tonight,” he whispered against my hair. I shook my head under his mouth. It was an old argument, one I often lost. “Warm bed. Fresh sheets,” he whispered more, furthering his proposition. “Breakfast in the morning. Your clothes pressed and ready.”

“Stop.” I slapped his chest. “Now let me sleep the last few minutes of this flight.”

He growled gently, the sound bringing a smile to my lips, and I settled further into his shoulder.

I won that battle, sleeping that Sunday in my own bed for no other reason than stubbornness. I had to make him wait for something, didn’t want to dive into the wife role without the marriage certificate signed. So I picked certain battles, maintained my separate residence, and the days ticked on.

♥♥♥

“Here.” Sheila slapped the form on my desk, her tight mouth turning into something someone in Death Valley might consider a smile. I looked from her face to the paper, the word EVALUATION in large letters across the top.

“Oh. Thank you.” I smiled up at her, unsure if I should be smiling, terrified to see what fun tidbits she added in the ‘Anything else we should know about this intern?’ section.

“Sure. And thank you,” she said, her words laced with a hint of reluctance. “We’ve enjoyed having you here. I’m glad to see that Mr. De Luca hasn’t been too much of a ... distraction.”

I relaxed a bit, smiling in parting when her pale suit turned and left the office. My hands were quick the moment the door shut, breathing a sigh of relief when only blank lines filled the available COMMENTS section. She shouldn’t have anything to complain about. Burge’s schedule was a far cry from Broward’s, our wing had changed gears, adopting normal nine-to-six hours, my attendance perfect despite any attempts by Brad to whisk me off. Burge also enjoyed long lunches, a perk that gave the entire staff the ability to lunch off property, and he’d brought me to court with him a number of times, a development that had me enjoying my job infinitely more. Slowly, the staff seemed to accept me again, forgiving me for the rebellious act of accepting Brad’s proposal.

But as the temperature inside the office warmed, the summer heat passed, bringing fall with all its color-changing gusto, each degree cooler reminding me of the looming holiday. Thanksgiving . Ominously before us, a family event that guaranteed the Magiano family in full, Italian force. I envisioned bumping elbows with henchmen and spent most nights cursing those damn Pilgrims and their merry feast.

NOVEMBER

Days until wedding: 283

I knocked gently on the door to Burge’s office, his Yankees coffee mug warm in my hand, then pushed on the handle, the door swinging open.

“Julia, please come in.” Brad stood behind Burge’s desk, leaning over the long expanse, multiple documents spread out in front of them. I paused, surprised to find him there.

“Brad,” I said, surprise coming through in my voice. I smiled at Burge. “Good morning, Mr. Burge.”

“Good morning, Julia. Please, have a seat. We have some documents that need your signature.”

Prenup. This must be it, the moment when I found out how much I would be allotted in the event of our dissolution. I felt a momentary flash of irritation at Burge’s involvement in this process. Brad could have easily handled this in his wing, with Rebecca instead of Burge. This wasn’t even Burge’s area of expertise. I nodded curtly and perched on the edge of the closest chair, fighting to keep the irritation off my face.

“You seem irritated, darling.” Brad’s amused voice floated over the desk, and I glanced up sharply to meet his eyes.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Mr. De Luca, but I do have work to attend to. You need my signature on something?”

“Multiple items, actually.” Burge spun the folder around and I stood, stepping forward and picking up a stray pen. I studied the first document, my eyes flitting quickly over it before examining it more closely. It was a stock certificate, for an entity name I was unfamiliar with. I looked up at Brad briefly before moving the certificate aside and looking at the next page.

“Uh, Julia. We need your signature on that,” Burge interrupted, gesturing to the initial certificate. I ignored him, flipping through the remaining pages, skipping twenty or thirty signature tags in my examination. Then I looked up at Brad for confirmation.

“You’re giving me Saffire?”

He grinned. “Well, not all of it. Evelyn has her ownership, as does Janine. But yes, I am signing over my share of the asset, including the real estate, to you.”

“Why?”

Burge shifted uncomfortably, and I ignored him, focusing on Brad. He left Burge’s side and walked to the front of the desk, leaning against it casually and crossing his arms. “Do you have a moral opposition to owning a strip club?”

“Why give it to me?”

He shrugged. “We’re getting married. It doesn’t seem like an appropriate asset for a husband to have. And I thought you would enjoy running it. Plus, it might ease any ... concerns you have.”

“You mean Alexis.” I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Yes. Alexis.” He looked pained for a brief moment, the look devastatingly perfect on his strong face.

“We’re not getting married for another nine months. Why transfer it now?”

“The process is not one that happens overnight. And I want to fly up there before the wedding. I’d rather do that with your ownership taken care of.” He smiled at me, dropping his crossed arms and stepping forward to gently kiss my neck. As he straightened, he paused at my ear, the next words hot on my skin. “Sign the papers.”

I shot him a disgruntled look, not appreciating the display of affection in front of my boss. “I’ll need some time to review them. Mr. Burge, do you mind if I take a few minutes in my office to look them over?”

The man looked relieved. “Not at all. Just return them to me once they have your signature on them. Certain spots need a notary, so please have Sheila help with that.”

I smiled at him, glanced at Brad, and then left, moving quickly to my office. Brad followed, slipping inside and settling into a chair across from my desk. I closed the door tightly.