Lunchtime Chronicles: Death by Chocolate: Lunchtime Chronicles Season 7, Protectors of The Governor Hotel, steamy mafia bodyguard romance by S. London & Siera London & Lunchtime Chronicles

Author:S. London & Siera London & Lunchtime Chronicles [London, S. & London, Siera & Chronicles, Lunchtime]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Siera London Books
Published: 2024-10-30T00:00:00+00:00

9

DANI

DAMN IT, MANDY

The air in The Governor's rooftop training center is thick with the scent of sweat and rubber mats—an odor that's practically the perfume of my morning grind. It’s a little after ten o’clock when I step through the arched doorway behind the reception area, the familiar sound of grunts and thuds fills my ears.

“Sounds like you this morning,” Xeno whispers in my ear. A shiver snakes down my spine at the reminder of how he drank from my pussy like an explorer plunging into the Fountain of Youth. He’s at my back, a mountain who makes me feel protected and delicate. Not that anyone who knows me would agree…but, maybe Xeno would.

“I’m working, remember?” For five years, I’ve come to this very place alone. His being here—with me, is a statement. The question is, am I ready for the world, that being The Governor and its residents, to know that I’m with Xeno?

“I do. I dressed you.”

A process he took great pleasure in prolonging as he lifted my foot, one at a time, easing my panties over my ass, to cup my pussy. We argued about me wearing my lace front wig and an arm sling. He likes my natural hair over the headdress of my uniform.

When I told him it was my decision, he threatened to bend me over his knee. I snatched both the wig and the velcro contraption and put them on. “Don’t remind me,” I murmur.

Training is in full session, and I'm here for one purpose: to spar with Cookie, my trainer and a constant since my arrival at The Governor. Silvio had hand-selected her to minimize my weaknesses and enhance for physical strengths following my escape. Xeno is beside me now. I glance up to spy him mean-mugging any knuckle-dragger who looks up from their workout to acknowledge my presence. A couple of the guys from the security team wave, Rhys isn’t one of them. Beside me, I hear Xeno grunt.

“No dick swinging,” I whisper. He grips my neck and kisses me, pushing his tongue deep until I whimper in surrender. Stretching, I angle my head in his direction, wanting to taste more of him—the smoothie we shared over breakfast, the sweet burst of the fresh pineapple he quartered and served me. Too soon, he pulls away, a spark of mischief dancing in those dark eyes.

“Say less,” he grins before patting my ass with his hand before heading to the only available bench press machine in the left corner. “Stay close.”

And if I could stray when he’s laying down kisses that buckle my knees and adle any good sense I possess. I watch Xeno walk away, hypnotized by his predatory movements. Rhys cuts behind him, his eyes searing into mine. He’s drenched in sweat, muscles bulging. I lift one brow in question. What was there to say? We fucked. It never went beyond meeting our physical needs.

No goodbyes necessary.

“Dani, you good?” Xeno calls. He’s watching this entire interaction. In fact, most eyes are on me.

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