My Mafia Boss: Sweat Page 6

  “What are you going to do?”

  A glaze of warm tears filled my eyes, making everything look starry. I blinked them back. “I don’t know.”

  Selena looked at me with a discerning gaze and somber expression. “Allie, as your best friend, as your sister in spirit, I’m going to tell you what I think, okay?”

  I nodded. I couldn’t think straight, anyway. I had a decision to make, and neither answer I came up with was a good one.

  “I know you have feelings for Marcus,” she began. “I know. And I know what that feels like. I do. But I also want you to consider that, sometimes, common sense trumps emotions. I think—”

  “Selena, I’m not sure—”

  She held up a hand. “Please, let me just get this out, okay? And please don’t take it the wrong way. I’m just trying to be honest with you, and I know you appreciate honesty.”

  My chest began to burn with the emotion I tried so hard to keep hidden. Blinking hard, I nodded. “Okay, say your piece. I won’t interrupt.”

  She visibly relaxed, her hands wrapping around her mug again. “Like I said, I know you have feelings for Marcus. You might even think you love him, and that’s okay. The heart wants what the heart wants, right? But I also want you to consider your future. You haven’t even reached the big twenty-one, you’re not even legally old enough to drink, and yet you’ve managed to catch the eye of one of the most eligible, if mysterious, bachelors in all of Philadelphia.”

  When she lifted an eyebrow, I realized she was expecting an answer, even though she hadn’t voiced a question. “That’s true.”

  “Okay, let’s also consider that he’s grown up on the wrong side of the tracks, so to speak. He’s engaged in criminal activities, some of which you know nothing about, and probably don’t want to know anything about. Just because he hasn’t been caught red-handed doesn’t mean he’s not engaged in criminal shit to his neck.”

  I didn’t want to hear this, didn’t want to accept it, even though it was absolutely true. But the real Marcus, the Marcus behind the mask, wasn’t like that. He was a good man. I knew that deep down in my core. Was I being stupid and naïve? Was I letting my love for Marcus blind me from reality? Was I really walking around with rose-colored glasses perched tightly on my nose?

  “I’m not saying Marcus isn’t a nice guy. From what I’ve seen of him, he is. To be honest, Allie, I kind of like him too. He’s not what I expected a mob boss to be. He’s not Vito Corleone from The Godfather. He isn’t Tony Soprano. He’s Marcus Ryan, leader of the Philly Outfit. It’s real, Allie. And it’s scary. And I’m scared for you, for me, and for your dad, because Pandora’s Box has been opened.”

  I choked back a quiet cry of despair as my heart pounded in my chest. As if she could feel my emotions, she reached out and took my hand.

  “You’ve been kidnapped. You could’ve been raped. Could’ve been killed. And like a pebble being tossed into the water, your actions, his actions, they all have a ripple effect. Your father has been moved to a new place, nicer maybe, but still effectively hidden away. You’ve been literally trapped in Marcus’s home since he rescued you. I also worry about my own safety.”

  I looked up at Selena, tears spilling from my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Selena. I—”

  She reached for my other hand, and I gave it to her, needing the close connection.

  “I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty, Allie. I just want you to understand the bigger scope. People’s lives will change based on any decision you make. Marcus’s, your dad’s, mine, but most especially, I worry about you. You have a lot of living to do, Allie…and…”

  Her voice faltered. I was stricken to hear the pain in it as she took a deep breath.

  “I don’t want you to go to prison, Allie. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I’m so scared right now I could throw up. You’ve got the mob on one side, and the might of the federal government on the other. You’re smack dab between a rock and a hard place, I know that, and any decision you make is not going to be easy.”

  I said nothing, my heart breaking.

  “What I guess I’m telling you, Allie, is to get the hell out while you can, before something horrible happens. Don’t let him take you down with him. I’m begging you.”

  Selena had walked me back to the penthouse, and we parted at the lobby door downstairs. We hugged each other, not like it would be the last time we would, but I felt like she was trying to give me her strength, to make the right decision. What exactly was the right decision?

  For hours, I’d paced through Marcus’s enormous space, something I seemed to be doing more and more of late. Deeply conflicted, I paced back-and-forth, pausing once in a while to gaze out the windows over the city. I thought of Marcus, out there somewhere, risking this alliance with Andrei Tarasov in an effort to secure my freedom from any further attacks.

  Yet, the Russian mob wasn’t the only other syndicate out there. There were others, and Marcus was an obvious target. Even though it wasn’t supposed to be that way, at least in the movies, it seemed that loved ones and families were also at risk.

  I recalled the words Marcus had spoken to me. You’re everything to me now.

  Yes, those words warmed my heart, but at the same time, I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by them. Did that mean that he would go to any lengths to protect me? How could he? I wasn’t about to stay locked up like some damsel in distress in a fairytale castle. I had a life to live.

  I paused. Or did his words mean that he would be willing to walk away from this life for me? Could he?

  Over and above, my dilemma with Marcus was the ATF agent, Felicia Warner. What about her offer, or threat, depending on how I chose to take it? She had offered me something that I had always wanted, a chance for my father and me to make a fresh start, to find a way to extend his life but without the financial burden that came along with it.

  Marcus had pretty much promised the same thing. What was that saying? Be careful what you wish for? I laughed, but it wasn’t an amused sound. I wasn’t amused. I was heartsick. I wanted to talk to dad, but I knew, deep down, what he would want and what he would say. I also knew where Selena stood. But where did that leave me? I was the one that had to make the decision, and neither one of them—as far as I was concerned—proved ideal.

  If I didn’t take the offer extended by Felicia Warner, could I risk throwing away my life if I were to go down with the Outfit? Marcus’s life as a mob boss was a dead-end. Sooner or later, someone would attempt to kill him, and they would succeed. Then where would I be? To date, his relationship with Niall had changed. Our relationship was causing waves in Marcus’s life. It caused this rift between Marcus and Niall, had killed his best friend, and threatened our potential future together.

  At the same time, could I betray Marcus and his trust in me? I didn’t want to be a spy for the ATF, FBI, or any other government agency. I just wanted to live my life, dammit! Neither decision would be easy, and either one would break my heart.

  What to do?

  Hours later, as the sun slowly settled into the western sky and set the thousands of windows and buildings throughout Philly aglow with orange and yellow light, Marcus returned. I stood in front of those windows and turned, watching as he entered. The moment he did, a huge rush of relief swept through me. He stepped into the living area, and I raced to him, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my cheek against his chest.

  “Miss me?” He chuckled, holding me close. “The transfer and drop off went off without a hitch.”

  The words were a reminder of our situation. He was a criminal, doing criminal things.

  Our time was running out. I could feel it like sands speeding to the bottom of an hourglass. I closed my eyes, trying to fight the ache growing inside me.

  One thing I knew. I wasn’t ready to let Marcus go. Not just yet.

  Marcus stiffened and placed a finger under my chin, forcing my head up so he could look me in the eye. “What’s wrong?” He looked so
worried, it made my heart ache even more. “You okay?”

  I forced a smile. “Of course. I’m fine. I just missed you.” I pressed my body closer. A thrill raced through me as he swept me into his arms and headed toward the bedroom.

  “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  The compliment was precious, but I wanted more. Was his intense desire to protect me because he deeply cared for me or because it was a base instinct?

  When we reached the bedroom, he loosened his grip, and I slid down his body, slowly and with increasing desire as I felt his hardness. I turned toward the bathroom, thinking perhaps we could take a shower together. Seconds later, he pressed up against me and turned me around.

  He moved forward until my back was against the wall beside the tall dresser, his gaze riveted to mine. He stepped closer still, until his chest pressed against mine. He placed his hands against the wall, trapping me.

  “You’re my prisoner now, and I’m not going to let you go until you do what I want,” he said with a grin.

  His voice sexy and captivating, I got the distinct impression that if I had said no, he would have backed away. I didn’t want to. I smiled up at him. “And just what do you plan to do to me?”

  His grin widened. “That’s a surprise.”

  He leaned closer, pausing so long I felt sure I would explode before his lips crashed into mine. I opened to him at once. I couldn’t resist him. It was impossible. My desire for him ignited with that one touch. One look. One word.

  Our tongues danced together, a rhythm I’d come to know as only ours. His hands tightened on my back as he pulled me closer, making it harder and harder to breathe. I didn’t care.

  Nothing mattered but this.

  Desperate for him, I unzipped his pants, reaching inside to find he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Even better. His erection sprang from the opening, and I wrapped my hand around his cock, my breath already coming faster as his mouth ravished mine. Soon, his hands were busy, and my pants were undone and shoved down past my hips.

  After several restricted movements, I slipped off my shoes and stepped out of one pant leg. I straddled one strong, hot thigh and rubbed my pussy against it, reveling in the pressure I so desperately needed. He palmed my breasts, squeezing and plucking, the movements making me gasp as pleasure evolved into pain and back again.

  When he pulled away, I groaned in protest until his lips wrapped around a nipple, and he was sucking hard. My back was pressed against the wall, holding me still while my body thrummed with sensations and desire.

  This was what I wanted. What I craved. What I’d risk anything for, I realized.

  This man.

  Lifting his head, he wrapped my hair around his hand, holding my head in place as he practically plundered my mouth, his teeth raking over my bottom lip. His tongue swept into my mouth, twirling with mine as I unbuttoned his shirt, feeling the hard expanse of skin under my hands as I pushed it from his shoulders.

  I gasped when he abruptly lifted me off the ground. My legs automatically wrapped around his waist, his arms hard and strong around me. In the next instant, he was inside me, driving up into me, his eyes locked onto mine as he stood that way for several moments. I found myself amazed at how strong he was, how perfectly we fit together, even like this.

  He held me pressed against the wall and began to move, lifting and dropping me onto his thick shaft. It was too much but also never enough. I hung on tight, my teeth grazing his ear as our bodies took and give from the other.

  I’d never had sex like this. Didn’t know sex could be like this. I was so full of him. Surrounded by him. Completely controlled by him.

  And I loved it. Craved even more.

  His mouth found my lips, my ear lobe, and then the crook of my neck.

  “You’re so sexy, so hot and tight.”

  His words fanned the flames even higher. When he sank his teeth in my shoulder, I came, waves of ecstasy threatening my very sanity.

  He didn’t stop, pumping hard while every nerve in my body thrummed with waves of pleasure. I clutched at him, hanging on for dear life, but it wasn’t enough. My release weakened me, and I began to sag as nerveless fingers lost their grip.

  He grinned, clearly proud that he’d turned me into a glass of water.

  “I’m not done with you yet,” he said, dropping my feet to the floor, but instead of taking us to the carpet, he turned me until I faced the wall. Taking my hands, he flattened them against the wall in front of me.

  With a sharp smack on my ass, he growled, “Spread your legs for me.”

  Adrenaline surged through me at the unexpected pain on my behind, giving me the strength to do as he asked, and moments later, he thrust inside me once more. I pushed back, giving as much as I took, reveling in the new position and how his cock stroked my g-spot perfectly.

  Automatically, I ground my hips back as he surged deeply in and out. One hand relinquished its grip on my hip and reached up to cradle my breast. His fingers teased my nipple, squeezing, twisting, and caressing as he took me harder, faster while the other hand dropped to circle my clitoris.

  Waves of pleasure pulled a scream from my throat, pushing me to the edge once again. He seemed to sense my growing orgasm and pumped deeper and faster.

  “Please…”

  I didn’t know what I was asking for, and I didn’t have time to consider the plea because I was coming again, this time, even harder. My body paralyzed with the sensations, I sagged against him.

  Strong arms held me up, a hot mouth on the back of my neck. His strokes increased in speed as his body tightened around me. He roared, the sound causing goosebumps to break out onto my sweaty flesh as his cock pulsed and hot semen flooded me.

  I rode the waves of total contentment until every nerve in my body felt weightless as the room grew quiet of everything but our ragged breathing. I leaned back into him, needing his strength. Finally, our breathing slowed, and he turned me around, pulling me close, holding me against him for several moments before he lifted me into his arms and carried me to the bed.

  I said nothing, and neither did he as we lay side by side. For the moment, this was enough. I refused to think about tomorrow or the day after. I wanted to stay in this moment forever.

  Eight

  Allie

  After our intense round of passionate sex, I fell asleep, but I wasn’t sure for how long. When I woke up, it was dark in the bedroom. Noises came from the kitchen, and I glanced at the other side of the bed, even though I already knew that Marcus wouldn’t be there.

  The sheets still felt warm, and the soft indentation on the pillow where he’d rested his head was still evident. I pressed my hand into that warmth, the ache in my heart and my troubles returning.

  I sat up and rose from the bed, walking naked toward the open bathroom. I stepped to the shower and turned the water on. With a groan of deep satisfaction, I stepped under the hot stream, trying to wash away the tension in my shoulders, the hard knot of worry that had settled, seemingly permanently, into the pit of my stomach.

  When I was finished, I towel dried my hair and then reached for the bathrobe hanging from a hook on the door. As I reached for it, I thought it was such an ordinary thing to find. A soft velour robe hanging from a hook on the back of a bathroom door. So normal. So innocuous. As I donned the robe and glanced around the room in the glow of the light, it too looked so normal. But it wasn’t. This room belonged to a mob boss, and I had a big decision to make—

  The moment I walked back into the bedroom, I spotted the dress, still on its hanger, spread across the rumpled sheets. Not the same little black dress I’d worn the night I’d been kidnapped—that one had disappeared—but a different one.

  Picking it up, I cinched the bathrobe belt around my waist and strode out of the room and down the hallway toward the kitchen, the metal hook from the dress hanger dangling from my index finger. Marcus stood behind the counter, sipping what appeared to be a mimosa while a pot of brewing coffee gurgled in the cof
fee maker. He lifted his glass toward me with a raised eyebrow.

  “Want me to fix you one?”

  Again, it dawned on me that I wasn’t even legally old enough to drink. Marcus was almost forty years old. What the hell was I doing?

  “No, thank you, but I’ll take a little bit of coffee.” I wanted to tell him about Agent Warner, but then I didn’t. So torn and confused. I lifted the dress higher. “What’s this?”

  He grinned, and the expression caused my heart to clench. He was a handsome man, even with a scowl on his face. With a smile, it changed everything.

  “Go ahead, put it on. I’m taking you out tonight, to spoil you.”

  Though I should’ve said no, that we needed to talk, that I didn’t want to go out and be spoiled, I didn’t want to ruin his obviously good mood. Less than an hour later, the dress hugging my body, my hair dried and pulled back, a light touch of makeup on my face, he escorted me down to the lobby, where his car waited under the portico.

  As his driver navigated crowded Philly streets, we made small talk, and I couldn’t help but think that he might have sensed something going on with me because he was unduly quiet as well. Maybe he was picking up on my mood, I didn’t know. I barely noticed the streets, the pedestrians, the lights in the buildings, businesses, and places we passed, all of it sweeping in a blur of color and movement until we arrived at the restaurant.

  I stared at the sign in front before turning to him. It wasn’t lost on me that this was the same place Marcus had brought me before he broke the news that he would be ending my contract. What was going on? I couldn’t imagine that he would take me back to this place, especially if he was going to give me additional bad news.

  I said nothing but walked by his side as we followed the maître d’ to what I could only now consider as “our private booth.” As we sat down, he ordered a bottle of champagne. Okay, he wouldn’t be ordering champagne if he was going to break some bad news, surely.