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"Sleep well?" I taunt her, my eyes raking over her body. The tight-fitting shorts and top do nothing to hide her smackable ass and hard nipples.

Christ.

I grow instantly hard, the need for this woman burning

through my body like a wildfire.

"Shut up," she mutters, rushing to the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind her.

I chuckle while reaching down to adjust my hard-as-steel cock.

I get a feeling I'll die of blue balls long before Mariya tries

to kill me. Just as I sit up, my phone starts to ring. Seeing Marco, my most trusted man's name flashing on the screen, I quickly

answer, "What's up?"

"Just got word that the Albanians were spotted in San Diego."

"Fuckers," I mutter, getting out of bed. Walking to the closet, I ask, "How many?"

"Twenty strong."

"Where the fuck do they come from? No matter how many we kill, the fuckers keep popping up in my territory." I put the phone on speaker, so I can set it down and get dressed.

"Feels like whenever we off one, three grow in the fuckers place," Marco says. "How do you want to handle it."

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