The Love Killers by Jackie Collins

Author:Jackie Collins
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Jackie Collins, The Love Killers, Leroy Jesus Bauls, Rio Java, Prince Alfredo, Sammy Albert, April Crawlford, Lara Crichton, Frank Bassalino, Stefano Crown, Bosco Sam, Larry Bolding, Rose Bassalino
ISBN: 978-0-9857459-3-6
Publisher: Chances, Inc.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Angelo’s apartment in Mayfair was small. A living room, kitchen, and bathroom. He’d splashed out on the bedroom. The walls were draped with leopard and tiger skins, the floor was carpeted in three-inch-thick fur, the ceiling was a kaleidoscope of different-colored mirrors. Naturally, the bed dominated. It did everything electrically, from turning around in a slow circle to producing television, stereo, or coffee at the touch of a button.

Angelo was proud of his domain. ‘Hot, huh?’ he boasted to Rio.

She dismissed her surroundings with a glance. ‘Get yourself a water bed, baby’ was her only comment.

They were both stoned. After Rio’s initial introductory remark to Angelo he’d lost no time in getting rid of his blond companion and joining up with Rio’s group. She was immediately cool, palming him off on Peaches while making rude comments about cocky Italian studs.

As usual, Rio was the center of attention, outrageous in whore’s shoes with five-inch heels that raised her six-foot height to ridiculous proportions. She towered over everybody, her sinewy body undulating on the packed dance floor in a revealing dress tied and swathed around her body. Silver bangles jangled halfway up both her arms, and fertility symbols jostled and moved around her neck. Her makeup was extreme, while her long black Indian hair was coiled up and hidden under a purple Afro wig.

She danced with everyone, generating sexuality and excitement at high-level voltage.

Angelo was content to hang around and watch. He had no doubts that later she’d go home with him.

He sat back and enjoyed the show, remembering a few years earlier. New York. At the time he’d been working for his brother Frank, and one day he’d been sent over to Billy Express’s house to deliver a package. ‘Personally,’ Frank had said. ‘Make sure you give it to him personally.’

Billy Express was not home, and Angelo had been told to wait. He hadn’t enjoyed being treated like a messenger boy. It pissed him off. But then he heard the noises, unmistakable noises, and he went to investigate, soft-footed in the white sneakers he always chose to wear.

The noises came from the room next to the study where he’d been told to wait. Opening the door a crack, he peered in.

Rio Java and a Chinese man were performing on the floor. She was naked, spread-eagled, and above her the Chinese posed very still while she groaned loudly. Occasionally the Chinese man moved, grinding himself deeply into her, withdrawing, and then remaining motionless until the next short stab. It was driving Rio mad, until suddenly she’d clutched at him, locking her extra-long legs around his neck and screaming with complete abandon.

Angelo had closed the door quickly, feeling more than horny. As soon as he’d delivered the package to Billy Express he’d hurried over to Carita’s house and dropped another load.

‘You bin here four times this week,’ Carita had complained. ‘I told Frank you could have two freebies a week. Whaddya think I am, for chrissake? I’m running a business, not a friggin’ charity!’

The memory had always remained with Angelo.

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