Paper Trails

20.

"Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again..."
~ The Sound of Silence, Simon & Garfunkel

Niccolo's POV.

I could still taste the bitch on my tongue, even though she wasn't here. Even though it's been days since my dick was inside her. I could still see her under me, eyes rolled back, hair framing her face. I could see it clearly, like I was staring at a picture. I could see her flesh flush against mine. I could see her breasts, nicely sized and pert. I could see her lip, taken between her teeth. I could see where our bodies joined. Her bare. Me...buried to the hilt. Us. Groaning. Fucking taking whatever we wanted. No questions asked. Niceties out the window. The first time, I was kind. At least, I thought so. I was also a little selfish. I can still hear her breathy moans. Could still feel her nails in the skin of my back. Could feel the pain of her digging in, drawing blood. Lived in it. Drowned in it. Lost in it. Lost in her. Sleek and wet and warm and somehow still fucking tight—

It was fucking sickening how that puta managed to get herself into my head.

I was a sucker for good pussy.

My eyes drifted back to Marino, my right hand man and closest friend. He was a fucking asshole, but I respected him. A good business man and a loyal friend. You don't run into many like him. He was waving his hands animatedly, recounting his story of his recent trip to Barcelona. I zoned out right around the time he started describing what Barcelonian püssy felt like. I had a different kind of pussy occupying my mind...

Merda.

"Amico mio," Marino frowned. "Qual è il problema?"

"Niente," I snapped and irritably shrugged off his question. I should not be thinking about her. Not with other pressing matters at hand. "What are you doing about the helicopter?"

Marino immediately shifts out of his relaxed state, sitting up and putting on a serious face.
"Working on it. That's a lot of money he's asking for.

I shrug. "For what we require, it's understandable."

He nods, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "And if the girl can't get it done?"

Neila. How I despised that name, and the woman it was given to. My hand curled into a fist and I brought it to my mouth, my eyes meeting his evenly. Simple. She fails, she dies.

That would be a shame.

All that... potential gone to waste.

"She will," I replied simply. "She knows what would happen."

He nodded but didn't reply. I didn't like the way he was looking at me. Like he knew something I didn't. I snapped 'what' and he shrugged, replying with a calm 'nothing' and a satisfied smirk on his face. I wanted to punch him. He laughed as if he could read my thoughts and clamped a hand over my shoulder, which I shrugged off.

"Look, Nic, if this girl is giving you trouble, why keep her around?"

Because I like being inside her more than I thought I would.

"She's dead anyway, Marino." I picked up my abandoned drink and downed it's contents. "Might as well make use of her."

*****

She smelled like something sweet. And cigarettes. I wasn't particularly attracted to women who smoked, but this one...