Joey (Chicago Ruthless, #2)

by Sadie Kincaid

I, Joey Moretti—a one hundred percent card-carrying feminist—would gladly drop to my knees and crawl to this man if he told me to.

Spending time with her is the most exquisite kind of torture there is. She’s the one woman I can’t have and the one woman I want more than any other.

He leans forward, and I catch the scent of him, cologne and fresh air and sex. Damn, he is the finest man to ever walk this earth. “One of these days, you’re going to regret rolling those eyes at me, Joey,” he says with a dark chuckle.

She gasps when I roll on top of her, her perfect tits shuddering against my chest as I take her wrists and pin them above her head. “Fucking you against a building in that alley was incredible. I will remember your tight virgin cunt squeezing my cock for the rest of my days. But I meant I should have made it more memorable for you, baby girl.”

Fuck me, this girl is dangerous. She is going to drive me to the brink of insanity, which is even more reason to establish some ground rules with her. I ignore her snark and thread my fingers through her hair, palming the back of her head. “When I hit the back of your throat, you’ll gag, maybe even feel like you’re choking. Tears are going to run down this pretty little face. And that’s only gonna make me want to fuck you harder, baby girl.”

She will never do this with anyone but me. Never. Joey Moretti is mine. All fucking mine.

Maximo DiMarco is going to ruin me for all other men.

“Damn right, baby girl, because you’re mine. I warned you that my kind of love wasn’t what you were looking for, but you went after it anyway. And now that you got it, it’s not the kind you can escape.”

“You’re not alone, baby girl. You’re fucking mine.” I swallow my emotions, determined not to cry. “Whose are you?” he asks, and the deep timbre of his voice makes goosebumps prickle along my forearms. “Yours,” I whisper with a smile. “Every fucking part of you.

Max has him by the neck before Romeo can even blink. Pressing his face close to the younger man’s, he snarls. “She is Joey fucking DiMarco, Cosa Nostra royalty, and your fucking boss, you smug little prick. You only get to work, walk, breathe, live, and die at her say so, do you understand me?” Romeo’s eyes bug out. He tries to nod, but Max has him pinned to the wall by his throat, his feet dangling an inch off the floor. “Don’t you ever mistake my wife’s submission to me as anything but a reflection of my utter fucking devotion to her. I would crawl through fire and broken glass on my hands and fucking knees if she told me to. If you ever disrespect her like that again, I will rip out your fucking tongue and use it to choke you to death. You got that?”