“I was so scared.” Tiffany wound her soft, naked body around Mike under the covers of his king-size bed.
“I know, baby. You were very brave.” Mike lifted her on top of him, spreading her legs so she straddled his hips, her body bathed in the early-morning light. She had such a beautiful body—big, firm tits with rosy pink nipples, slender waist, and gently curved hips. She shaved her pussy, and when he spread her legs, he could see the pink folds of her cunt and the nub of her clit just waiting to be touched.
“I thought he was going to kill me.” She shivered, and he stroked the creamy expanse of her thigh. This was the fourth night poor Tiffany had woken with nightmares about Frankie pointing a gun at her, and sex was the only thing that helped her get back to sleep.
“I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding.” He didn’t want to think about the conflict situation he was in. His loyalty was to his crime family, but Tiffany was the witness who could put Frankie in jail. Sweet, innocent Tiffany who had just been checking in on Grace’s father as a favor to Mike. It was all his fucking fault. He should never have involved her in any way. Every time he tried to do something good, it got fucked up. Now he had fucking Mr. Rizzoli calling to remind him about the oath he swore to put his crime family above everything else. If there was no witness, there was no case. Big things were happening in New York that impacted the Toscani family in Vegas. Nico needed Frankie out of jail. Did Mike understand?
Yeah, he fucking understood. And fuck that. Frankie wasn’t part of the Toscani crime family. Mike didn’t owe him anything. Frankie had punched him in the face. He was going to beat him with a stick because he’d tried to alleviate the boredom of sitting in an alley for hours while Frankie panted after the underboss’s daughter. So what that Frankie had given him most of the money to expand his gym business? Or that Frankie had given him responsibilities beyond those of any other Toscani soldier? Frankie was a De Lucchi. Other. And what the fuck had he been doing there anyway? If Mike had to guess, he’d finger Frankie for the one with the contract on the Mantinis. And poor Tiffany caught him in the act. Jesus Christ.
“Maybe I should go into witness protection.” She drew in a ragged breath. “The detective in charge said I could call any time.”
“You don’t want that, baby,” he said quickly. “You wouldn’t be able to work or look after your dog. You wouldn’t be able to go out. We couldn’t be together. You’d be stuck in some safe house with a bunch of cops…” His gut clenched at the thought. His girl. Alone. With a bunch of men who’d be thinking exactly what Mike knew they’d be thinking when they had to look after a beautiful girl like his Tiffany. No fucking way. It was his job to protect her and mob or no mob he would find a way to keep her safe.
He trailed his finger along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, but just as he got near the swollen folds of her pussy lips, she clamped a firm hand on his wrist.
“What kind of friends do you have, Mikey? He killed that nice old man and then he tried to kill me.”
Mike wasn’t about to tell her that his “friend” was a Mafia enforcer, or that Frankie must have had a damn good reason for killing the New York underboss, because even Mike knew he was going to lose Grace over it. No doubt Mr. Toscani would find out what that reason was when Charlie Nails bailed Frankie’s ass out of jail later today.
“I don’t know if he killed anyone. Maybe the old man just died ’cause that’s what old men do.” He eased her down until his cock was nestled against her hot, wet pussy. She was always wet for him. No matter what they were doing or where they were, if he wanted her, she was ready.
“Do you ever think about running away?” She cupped her breasts and squeezed them, grinding against his cock like something out of a wet dream. “Just getting in a car and leaving everything behind—your work, your friends, your apartment—and being someone new?”
“You mean starting over?” He reached for her breasts, covered her hands with his and watched her pink nipples harden.
“Yeah. You ever want to start over, Mikey?”
“Can’t say I ever have.” He’d been in the life as long as he could remember, and it had worked out well for him. He liked the crew, the work, and the benefits. Without the mob, he would never have been able to open his gym, or afford the nice bungalow he’d bought with the big back yard for his two rescue dogs, and he would never have had the respect he got as a wiseguy.
Mike knew he wasn’t the brightest lightbulb in the box, but he was a good worker, a good earner, and a loyal friend, which was why he wasn’t saying much about Frankie even though his head was full of things he wanted to say. He knew Frankie didn’t work exclusively for Nico. He was a De Lucchi, and he worked for anyone in the crime family who needed his help. Hell, Frankie had done work for Tony, and Tony’s father, Santo, when he was alive, and the don had sent him all over the U.S. to help out other Gamboli family factions. If the don wanted his own underboss dead, the De Lucchi crew were the ones to handle the job.
But man, having to whack the father of your girlfriend had to suck big time, and given how close Frankie and Grace had become, Mike had trouble believing that Frankie had actually done the deed. Yes, he was a cold, hard, ruthless, vicious son-of-a-bitch, and even Mike, with his years of experience in the mob, couldn’t stomach some of the things he’d seen Frankie do. But he had changed since Grace came into the picture. Mike hadn’t thought Frankie was capable of feeling anything, but after seeing him with Grace, Mike was sure he cared for her. A lot. But more than that, the fact that Mike was still alive and with four working limbs after the fiasco at the jazz club said it all. Grace had turned the monster into a man. How could that man give up the one person who had brought him into the light?
“I wish you had been there.” She lay over his chest, her breasts soft and warm on his skin, her face buried in his neck. “You’re so big and strong. You could have fought him and saved the old man. You could have saved me.”
He growled in pleasure at her appreciation for his size. Women usually thought he was overweight or too big. One woman had laughed at his barrel chest. No one had ever wanted Mike to save them.
“You ever need me, baby, I’ll be there.” He hugged her tight with one arm and reached for the condoms on the night table with the other. His gaze fell to the small gray box beside the lamp. He still hadn’t given Tiffany her present. Every time he reached for it, something held him back. Maybe it was too soon. Or too late. Maybe she wouldn’t like it. Or maybe she would refuse it because she had decided to leave him. He had come up with dozens of excuses, but in the end, it had never been the right time.
But now, after spending four nights with her, holding her while she slept, soothing her nightmares away, he wanted to give her something special—a little piece of him.
“I got something for you.” He bypassed the condoms and picked up the box. “It used to be my mother’s.”
Tiffany opened the small gray box and her face ran the full gamut of emotions from wonder to tears as she stared at the little locket. “It’s lovely,” she said softly. “No one has ever given me a present.”
“You’re kidding me?” He stared at her aghast. “A beautiful girl like you? You never had a present? Not even from your parents before they passed or your uncle? What about boyfriends?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t have many memories of my parents, and when my uncle took me to live with him, he made me leave everything behind. He lived in a tiny place and there was no room for my stuff. He wasn’t a giving or sharing kind of person. I dated lots of guys, but it was just casual. You’re the first serious relationship I’ve ever had.” She looked up through the thicket of her lashes. “Are we serious?”
“You bet we are.” His chest puffed with pride at knowing he was her first serious boyfriend, and he reached for the locket. “You can put something inside,” he said, embarrassed that his fingers were too thick to open it for her. “Maybe a picture or something like that.”
“A picture of you?”
“If you like.”
“Could you hand me my phone? I’ll take that picture right now.”
He gave her the phone she’d placed on the nightstand and she took a few pictures of his smiling face.
“Put it on. I want to see it on you.”
Tiffany took out the locket and fastened it around her neck. The slim gold oval hung just below the crescents of her beautiful breasts.
“You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he said softly. “I’m the luckiest man on the fucking earth.”
A pained expression crossed her face so quickly he wondered if he’d seen it. “What if I asked you to run away with me?” she asked, her fingers stroking the locket. “Would you leave this all behind? Would you become someone new and start over again … with me?”
Mike’s phone buzzed beside the condom box, and his hand wavered between the two. He was hard to the point of aching and whoever was on the other end could wait long enough for him to get his rocks off and soothe his sexy little nurse.
Unless it was the boss.
Or the boss’s boss.
Or Frankie calling him from jail.
He bypassed the condoms and picked up the phone. “Yeah?”
Tiffany slid her slick, wet cunt up and down his cock, making it almost impossible to focus on Paolo who was rattling off the address where Luca would be expecting him in half an hour. When Paolo finally finished he tossed the phone, and gripped Tiffany’s hips.
“You’re a bad girl. That was a business call and I couldn’t concentrate. What was that question you asked before we got interrupted?”
Her face shuttered for a moment, and then a slow, sensual smile spread across her face. “It wasn’t important. Now I’m more interested in hearing how you’re going to punish your bad girl.”
Mike lifted Tiffany’s hips and slammed her down over his cock. “She’s gonna get fucked hard and long, and she’s gonna come all over my cock.”
She moaned and licked her lips. For a moment, he thought he saw something other than sweet innocence in her eyes, but then she started riding him, and all he could think about was the feel of her hot, wet pussy, the gentle sway of her breasts, and the long golden hair that spilled over her shoulders. He tried to think what he might have done in his life that God would send him an angel, but when she reached behind her to squeeze his balls, he stopped thinking at all.
And that’s why he never saw it coming.