But before I can freak out, there’s a knock on the car door.
Dante doesn’t move. Doesn’t pull away.
His fingers are still pressed against me as he opens the door, and there’s poor, clueless Andre…immediately dropping to his knees.
"We're done with them, boss," Andre says, his head bowed.
Dante still doesn’t move.
Instead, he rubs his fingers against my panties—slowly before finally pulling his hand away like he didn’t just do that in front of his goddamn underling.
Then, with zero f*****g warning, he picks me up and drops me onto the seat beside him.
"Stay here," he orders. "And don’t f*****g move."
Then he’s out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him.
I roll my eyes hard.
Oh, for f**k’s sake. What exactly am I supposed to do, huh? Sit here like a good little girl while he
