He was sitting behind his desk, watching her as she slowly stripped her T-shirt over her head. She had already kicked off her Sketchers. Riley closed her eyes, trying to block him out. How had life gotten so f****d up and out of control that she was doing a striptease for the most dangerous mafia boss in town, right in the office of his underground casino? She could feel the heat of his eyes on her and knew he was tracing every inch of creamy flesh she revealed. Her mind frantically scrambled over the problem of which piece of clothing to take off next.
"The sweats," his deep voice instructed, reading her mind.
Her eyes flew open to meet his. When she saw amusement written on his face in the curl of his lip and glint in his eye, she wanted nothing more than to stalk over to his bar and s
