So Ace climbed on top of her, settling his legs on either side of her waist, taking her wrists and raising them over her head. The movement woke her, and he placed a hand over her mouth.
He was surprised to realize that the startled look in her flaming emerald eyes filled him with guilt. She writhed beneath him, as people tended to do despite the fact that they could never escape from beneath his grasp.
“Don't make me regret this,” Ace hissed.
He didn’t like scaring her. That was a new feeling. Instilling fear in his subject was normally necessary, part of the job. But with Emma, he hated every second of it.
“I’m going to remove my hand,” he whispered. “But when I do, you can’t scream. I need you to show me the product you’ve been stashing for the Fontanas.”
Emma nodded frantically. He didn’t really believe her. After all, she had run away and was more of a firecracker than he had first anticipated.
“Okay,” he said softly.
Ace removed his hand from her mouth but kept a loose grip on her wrists. She panted hard, her breasts rising and falling beautifully. His eyes flickered around her body, noticing her lovely nude form and growing hard.
There was no way she couldn’t feel it too. The sheet between them was so thin. For a silent moment, they both silently acknowledged the fact that his cock was hard from the sight and feel of her naked body. She continued to wiggle slightly, but it was no longer from fear. Ace swore he saw her bite her lip with anticipation.
“All right,” he said, hopping off before things got too heated. “Show me.”
Emma slowly slid off the bed, pressing the sheet to her chest. Ace politely looked away, though he would do anything to see her naked, even just a peek. He found a large pair of men's sweatpants in a pile of clothing, and, forcing himself to ignore why she'd have those and hoping it was because they were baggy and soft, he slipped them on and followed her across the room to the living area of the loft.
She had wrapped the sheet around her entire body, looking more like a Greek goddess as she climbed out of bed. She clicked on the light in the room, and Ace had to stifle a huff of laughter.
The room looked like a bomb had gone off. Clothing was everywhere, along with random piles of paper and empty plastic containers. He turned to her, finding a looking of bashfulness painting her gaze as she recoiled against the wall.
“Does your place always look like this?” he asked.
She nodded, meeting his eyes. “You caught me at a bad moment,” she said.
Ace had the impulse to laugh, but that would mean he was comfortable with her. He was supposed to be scaring her, getting information from her. So he held out his arms with impatience.
“Where’s the shit?”
Emma pointed to the corner of a room with a couple boxes piled neatly in a row. It was next to a treadmill that looked like it hadn’t seen action in ages.
He faced her, then motioned toward the couch.
“Sit,” he ordered.
She did as he asked, still clasping the sheet around her body.
Ace stalked to the corner and moved the boxes around. They appeared to be typical stash boxes, like something innocent but far from it. He opened it to find normal bricks of coke.
As he removed one, Emma spoke up behind him.
“I suspect it's been cut with plaster,” she said rather boldly. “One of the guys dropped it before they left, and it broke apart, almost in half.”
Ace nodded. He had been informed that Fritz of the Fontana family had been spotted dining with several known associates of the Lombardi family. They were a smaller family operating within Chicago, one that needed to have a pair of eyes on them.
Don Moretti had informed Ray himself that if Fritz was skimming and spending time with the Lombardi family, it was likely that a gang war was brewing. He needed to find out for himself and stay on top of things before they got heated.
Ace turned to face Emma, whose eyes swirled with a mix of fear and interest.
“Do you have a switchblade?” he asked.
She raised her eyebrows. “A switchblade?”
“Did I stutter?”