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Dancing with the Mob: A Dark Mafia Romance Two-Book Collection

Page 42

by Suzanne Hart


  Claridge’s hooks seemed to run deeper and further than I could have imagined. I couldn’t guarantee Felix’s safety, unless I came through with what Claridge had asked. I still had no idea how to do that, but I had to look like I was doing something in that department. I knew Claridge would somehow know most, if not all of my movements. I was starting to share Mikey’s paranoia. I called him next.

  “What do you mean, not exactly?” I asked him, having just heard he was not exactly followed back to my place.

  He hesitated, fidgeting verbally. I didn’t like that. “It’s complicated. Just don’t worry, okay? I wasn’t followed. I just had to… uh… let someone use your bathroom.”

  “Hmmm. Alright then, I trust your judgment. I think. But please, no more house guests okay? I need to keep a low profile for a while. So do you.” I tried to think what on earth he had meant, but was preoccupied with so many other things, so I let it go.

  “Where are you, anyway? Oh, you need to buy groceries too. Don’t you have like a… uh, sorry. I just get unreasonable when I’m hungry. I’m starving and there’s nothing in the house.” He was sounding like a grown-up version of my son.

  “Just order some groceries!” I smiled to myself.

  This was what I liked, small-time, day-to-day drama with the man of my dreams. He wanted food, but couldn’t leave the cave. I looked forward to the time when he would be all mine, all the time. When we wouldn’t be running around like idiots, trying to save our skins from stupid old men with chips on their shoulders.

  “I kinda ran out of money…” Mikey said, as if it was a mystery, even to him as to how it had happened.

  I instantly thought drugs, but curbed my thinking to allow for anything. I also secretly hoped that not having money was going to be an ongoing issue with Mikey. Money was just money. How could he not have any?

  “Just use whatever you find lying around, there’s always cash floating about. Order a pizza or something. I’ll get something organized when I get back, I’ll be there soon, okay?”

  He was quiet all of a sudden, and I could hear movement in the background. My heart froze for a second.

  “Mikey!? Are you there?” He half-laughed at my panic, but there was an edge in his own voice.

  “It’s fine, Natalia. Don’t worry. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Mikey?” I asked, almost pleading. “Are we going to be alright?”

  Silence.

  “I’ll see you soon…” He hung up.

  I was hoping for some resolution, some better answers before heading back, having not had the best or worse reception at home. I stuck to my original idea of leaving the car in Miami and getting a cab to the airport. I had a very odd feeling I wasn’t coming back.

  Irritated by the clerk at the flight desk, trying to upsell frequent flyer miles, I hastily paid for my ticket in cash and knew I needed a nap on the flight home. Nightmarish images of my father, Claridge, Felix, and even Mikey flashed before me for an hour or two as I tossed and turned in the first class cubicle.

  Coming into land, I felt a bit better physically, but just as rattled mentally and emotionally as when I’d left. I took a cab to the hospital, hugged my son until he was embarrassed, with the doctors updating me that he was improving beyond their expectations… but he would still need to stay in. Claridge was nowhere to be seen, and I figured he’d sent his message to me loud and clear.

  I decided to stop and pick up some groceries for Mikey. I had no idea what to buy, or even how to really. Like Mikey, all that stuff was done by other people. To have to go into a store, pick out some items, then stand in a line until it was alright to pay for them was an interesting, but useless exercise for me. I vowed to only ever shop for clothes and jewelry; maybe a house, but never food.

  Hundred dollar bills still buy loyalty. The cab was waiting for me, just as he said he would be.

  “You shouldn’t carry so much cash with you, miss.”

  The driver observed me, being friendly as he put the groceries into the trunk. My questioning face made him smile.

  “Somebody might rob you!” he exclaimed, eying the hundred dollar bill like a greedy child already wanting more.

  “Are you going to rob me?” I asked, point blank.

  “No! Of course not, I…”

  “Well, then I have nothing to worry about.”

  We had just started to move when my phone rang. It was my father’s direct line. “Natalia! I have been thinking. I have some business in L.A. tomorrow, but will fly out tonight. I want to meet you again, to have dinner. Bring your… friend, the Leone kid. I want to meet him. No tricks, just a meeting. I want to discuss with him the ways we might work together, to stop the fighting between our families. He, as you say; could be the go-between for us, sending a peaceful message to the Leones…”

  I was stuck for words. It was like someone else had put on my father’s voice and was talking the complete opposite of what he would normally say. I was alarmed, but assured in the knowledge that he must have really thought I was actually that stupid after all.

  Did I always give the impression of being an idiot? I must’ve, or he really had lost it this time. And how did he know I was in L.A.?

  What else does he know?

  I tried to hide my panic. “Papa, I’m not sure I can…”

  “No!” he barked. “I will send you the details, be at the restaurant. Eight o’clock! I have let you go freely, Natalia, do not embarrass me a second time.” The line went dead. A moment later, there was an address for the restaurant and the time. Eight o’clock.

  I felt a space opening up inside me, where the gripping fear was shooting a few hours before. It had turned into a wider and darker space. I didn’t feel frightened anymore; a curious see-what-happens feeling had held back the curtain, edging me closer.

  Catching sight of myself in the rearview mirror of the cab, I was smiling like a crazy person, and my eyes were blazing like I was planning something to end all things. I looked right at myself, willing a clarity that wasn’t all there inside me just yet. I felt stronger though, for some reason. Even though I had every reason not to feel so.

  “I hope you have a clean shirt!” I called as I entered the house.

  It felt like home already, the oppressive, antiquated museum style of the Bernardi castle as I called it in my mind. It had been replaced with a more realistic, domestic setting in the suburbs.

  I heard a door close suddenly somewhere else, far off in the house. “Mikey!?” I called out loud, making my way to the kitchen, heaving the bags up onto the counter. Something I had never done in my whole life. I even felt something pull in my shoulder.

  Oh no. I pulled my rich muscle! I could get used to this, though. It’s fun.

  No sign of Mikey.

  I went out back, nobody there. I locked the door and went upstairs, the shower was running. I crept up to get a peek of Mikey, something I had missed more than I could admit until the moment was there. I crept slowly, my heart beginning to race as his form filled my line of sight.

  The shower was big, not as big as the penthouse, but big enough not to need a curtain. I stood there for what would never feel like long enough, watching Mikey standing under steaming jets of water, the silvered lines tracing across his naturally dark skin, finding their ways across every inch of him so that, the longer I stared, the more I wanted to touch those inches myself.

  I stifled moans and other sounds as I stood, shielding myself behind the doorway; he’d almost seen me twice. I had so much else to worry about, but I could have stood there watching him all day. The urge to pleasure myself was muted. I was in awe of his beauty. It was something I would save for later, if I was by myself, or remember, as he filled me with himself once again. I trembled with goosebumps. I couldn’t wait.

  I had to break the spell. Time was a factor and I had no idea about what to even wear. “Hi stranger!” I called out. “Help! There’s a strange man in my house!”

  Mikey’s eyes shot open, piercing int
o mine. He looked guilty for some reason. He started to explain something, but seeing me smile, he relaxed.

  “It’s just me, are you alright?” I asked, fighting the urge to strip and join him, even though my own wetness was reaching a fever pitch. I had to focus to keep it together, at least until the dinner with my father was over.

  I was proud of myself, drying Mikey off without putting him in my mouth. He seemed wound up, edgy. Not in the mood for play, which was unusual. Ordinarily, I would’ve seen to it that he got the full benefit of a rub down, but today was different.

  “He fucking what!?” Mikey exclaimed, snatching the towel and covering himself after I’d told him about my father’s dinner party plans for that evening. “Are you fucking insane!?”

  I thought he might react, but not like that. He was angry, really mad. I’d never seen that side of him. I didn’t like it. It made me feel scared again.

  “Well! I’m certainly not going! Do you think I’m fucking stupid or something? Going to a Bernardi dinner is like putting a fucking gun to my head! If he doesn’t pull the trigger, my own family will! I can’t believe this! You’re fucking insane!” He stormed off, out of the room, getting himself back into his dirty clothes he’d had on before.

  I stood in the doorway, speechless. It hadn’t gone at all like I’d thought it would. We had less than three hours to be at the restaurant. I couldn’t disappoint my father.

  I felt the quietness, the darkness of my earlier resolve disappearing, then the coldness of fear and uncertainty flooded back into the space, the comfortable void I had discovered. Against all my will, I began to cry.

  I slid down to the floor, my back against the bathroom doorway, burying my head in my hands. It hurt that Mikey had gotten mad, it hurt that my father was so open about me being expendable, it hurt that my whole life had led me to that point. I had everything, but I had nothing.

  Thirty-Two

  Mikey

  She was nuts. It was a crazy idea. I had lost my shit, yeah. Of course I had! It was suicide. I was wanted for the attempted murder of his son, I had broken the biggest cocaine deal in Miami history with him just a few days before, I was the only son of his sworn enemy. Why the fuck would I sit down to dinner, even consider any sort of a meeting with Don Carlo Bernardi?

  For her. I’ll do it for Natalia.

  It had taken me a good fifteen minutes to calm down. I had only just managed to get Slade out of the house before Natalia had come back. I had gone up to take a shower, to try and wash some of the shitty day off of me, and a little of that motel too. I could still smell the room for some reason.

  Slade hadn’t been too forthcoming as to why he had tracked me down. I didn’t buy his answer. “After what happened, I wasn’t sure what had happened to you. Even though you did a sissy job, falling apart like that. You know we have a code in the service. Nobody gets left behind. I wasn’t able to go back to that hallway, but as chance would have it, somebody from hospital security, an ex-marine had spotted you stealing a doctor’s car. He also recognized you and called me. Lucky for you. Didn’t you think your whole walking out of the state thing dressed as a doctor was a little too easy?”

  I felt the sting of wounded pride. I had wanted to assert myself, my abilities, but Slade was a professional. I was just a dumb rich kid, minus the riches. He sneered as he saw my understanding.

  “My job,” he’d continued, “believe it or not, is to keep you safe. That’s not even from your father’s mouth. It’s written here.” He’d tapped his chest. “I have a code and I keep it, at any cost.” He’d scanned the rooms and surroundings, found himself some clothes which barely fit, then he had disappeared as quickly as he’d come, like a ghost.

  The past twenty-four hours had been a series of surprise attacks on my senses, with people just popping up out of nowhere, telling me how things were going to be. First Claridge, then Slade, now Natalia. I’d had enough of feeling rattled. I really wanted a drink to steady my nerves, but was extra annoyed when I realized the house was dry. I had another small series of tantrums as I tore off the old clothes I had put back on and had gone in search for the clothing stash Slade had found. I was tempted to revisit the little bag of white powder I still had, but could hear Natalia crying still, and it broke my heart.

  Why would she have men’s clothing in the house? Did she have male visitors often? Oh no, here we go again, paranoia city.

  Whoever he was, he had no taste in clothes. I was satisfied with some jeans and a shirt, then I spied it. The suit. It would be perfect for dinner, simple, but that was the thing nowadays.

  I grabbed it and tried it on, it was loose on me, the other guy must’ve been a half or two times broader than me, but it offered the cheap and much needed illusion of class for my dinner date.

  I straightened the tie, then, catching a glimpse of myself, began to laugh out loud. I looked perfect. I felt instantly better. A little more rooting around and I found a passable cologne as well, my rough stubble and slightly baggy suit made me look like something from a L.A. fashion runway.

  I hated the idea of meeting Bernardi, it was crazy. But I had to remind myself that I had agreed to get Claridge everything I could on the Bernardis. How else was I supposed to do that without getting involved with them somehow, send him an email and just ask?

  I couldn’t hear Natalia anymore; I’d hoped she hadn’t fallen asleep or anything. I was the complete opposite to before, in my mind. I wanted to meet Bernardi now, and I was almost looking forward to it.

  One thing about myself I never came to terms with, and I don’t think anybody ever did, was my irrational and erratic thinking. I could cry out against something one minute, then be telling everyone what a great idea it was the next. That part of me never changed, only the situations.

  As if she’d been spying on me, or had just figured out how a part of me worked, Natalia appeared, dressed in a very snug black and lace one piece, with a diamond necklace that threatened to strip the paint off the walls.

  My heart quickened as soon as I saw her, and I instantly felt my crotch swell as my yearning for her was awoken. She smiled through some smudged makeup, which she announced she would redo before we left, then held me shyly as I kissed her deeply.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just it’s all been too much, it feels like everything is happening so fast and I haven’t got time to breathe,” I whispered, holding her ear gently in my mouth before kissing her again. My hand instinctively slipped up her dress, greeting a damp heat there that begged further investigation.

  “How long have we got?” I asked.

  Natalia’s sleek fingers were already unlocking me from my pants and taking all of me into her mouth and throat. And that was my answer. I moaned out loud, holding her hair to one side gently, exciting myself further, the sight of my own growing girth as it slid in and out of her perfect, red-lined mouth, pulsing in time with a swelling. And one which eventually forced her movements to become slower as my size exceeded her capacity.

  Her own low moans were reverberating across my whole shaft, and my tip was ablaze with electricity, threatening to short out from the wetness of her mouth. I could see she had freed her ample breasts which bobbed in time with her own movement, her dark nipples teased to shatter point, up against the fabric of the suit pants.

  Her favorite two fingers were playing their own tune across her swollen snatch, spreading and plying her mound in tandem with the gulping and slurping of my aching cock.

  I felt my nuts start to rise, threatening an explosion into her mouth, but she was aware of how close I was. With a swiftness that didn’t break our concentrations, she had removed my lower clothes and, hitching her tiny black dress up just far enough for me to see, she arced her rear end around, drawing it up high into the air, holding herself apart for me with one hand as the other was held out impatiently.

  “Oh, Mikey. Fuck Me! Give it to me now!”

  As she swore, thrusting herself back onto the entire length of my hardness, I felt the
first flow of heat traveling up inside of me. I cried out, with my voice wavering as I swore too. Uncontrolled jets of hot come sprayed up, deep inside her. She cried out again, throwing her head back, gripping my rod tighter with her own sex. I could feel the spasms of her tightness starting, renewing a second series of hot squirts from my cock once again.

  Our first climaxes expired, and I set to work on giving her a proper stuffing, just how she liked it. She was on all fours, riding me backward, her back arched, then dipped. Her head swayed and bobbed so violently I feared it might break her neck, until I caught sight of my own shadows on the wall, jerking and thrusting as violently as hers.

  She called my name three more times before I filled her one last time, with the efforts of our union flowing freely from her, covering the inside of her milky thighs and saturating my entire abdomen with the sweetness of her scent.

  Looking at each other while we were all crumpled and bent on the floor, we started to laugh. A free, abandoned feeling had come over us, dispelling the darkness of the reality each of us must have faced internally. I helped her up, buddy style, her arm gripping my forearm. I thought how fragile she looked, still shaking and trembling from her climaxes. It made me feel better about everything. I could at least give her something that she loved.

  We shared a shower. I was able to admire the jewels as they hung on a bust in the bathroom, fracturing all the light across us in a dazzling display. Not once did I even consider that they could be used, exchanged for money. It was like watching a weight lift off myself every time I caught one of those magic rays in my own eyes.

  “You can dry yourself off, buddy,” she quipped, noticing my manhood poking his head up, looking for round two as we finished showering.

  I laughed, jokingly pointing my finger at him, telling him to behave, at least until after dinner.

  The mere mention of the dinner had changed the mood. We still smiled and touched, brushed and kissed. But it was different. We each had work to do, I knew I did anyway. I kept telling myself, any deception on my part now; would benefit both of us in the long term. It was hard enough to hear myself say that and I hoped the day would never come where I had to repeat it to Natalia.

 

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