”Ali started to pace in the room. Delacroix watched her and Ali started to feel a faint squirming uncertainty in her belly. A fear. There was someth...ng about talking to someone who wore clothes that made her feel deeply ill at ease. Delacroix wasn’t psychic. Neither was Lt. Kerensky. But he didn’t matter as much. He wasn’t in charge of PsiCom. And despite her lack of psionic talent, Delacroix showed zero fear at being in the same room as Ali in a rage. And Ali would have said that was due to. I didn't even know who this guy was, he could be anyone. He flipped me around with my hips, taking both hands to do it. I lay down into the boot, never breaking eye contact with him. 'You're going to let me fuck you?' He said in his perfectly low, masculine voice. I nodded and reached for his cock, unzipping his Giorgio Armani jeans. Very strange - did taxi drivers really earn that much money? I didn't think twice about it at the time though, I was focusing on how huge his cock looked through. ”“Good.” Without thinking twice, I kicked the money off the table. Hundreds of thousands of dollars were casually tossed to the ground, before I grabbed Carter and threw him on top of it.“I hope your liaison doesn’t mind this money being a little dirty,” I said, bringing my lips to his and tearing open his shirt. “Or maybe even a little wet.”A massive smile crossed his face. “I’m sure he won’t.”I didn’t even have time to soak in the sight of his body, as the two of us became lost in each. Seriously - Mama's. I remember David Brenner joking that you should never eat at a place named Mama's and never take a waiters suggestion after ten p.m. That joke was on my mind as we walked in and seated ourselves.The place was well worn. There were old photos and even older posters around the dining room, which gave it a friendly, homey kind of feel. There was a smattering of people having lunch but it was not crowded. A woman, who had to be the famous Mama, almost ran out of the kitchen to.
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