Rockland: A Mafia Billionaire Romance

by Shanna Handel

  Did it even matter? How we got here?

  All I know is that in this moment, this man has professed his love for me. And in his recent absence, I found that I am utterly, unavoidably, irrevocably crazy in love with him.

  Rockland Bachman.

  Rhyming name and all.

  There’s a tug at my hand. “Tess... you haven’t said a word. Tell me—what are you thinking in that beautiful mind of yours?”

  “That I love you. Very much. That when you went back to the Parish, all I could think of was you. That I missed you so much that my crazy ass packed bug repellent and khaki shorts and even a baseball cap, to go after you. To tell you how I felt about you. When I saw that Amazonian princess, I was lit with a fire of jealousy so strong, I thought I’d burn into ashes. As I was running through those woods, I knew I was in love with you. I thought I’d die of a broken heart.”

  “You are the only princess in my world.” His gentle words make my heart warm, swell within my chest. His mouth is on mine. Kissing me, caressing me, tasting me.

  His tongue coaxes mine, gliding smoothly as he explores. I meet him in a tango, a slippery dance of heat and desire. My tongue finds its courage and tangles with his. His taste—it belongs to me. We’re kissing harder, deeper. My head feels light but not from the injury. It’s a delightful floating feeling—the one that must have coined the term ‘cloud nine.’ My hand runs through his short hair and it’s soft as silk.

  Every sense is heightened as if I’m on some wonderful drug. High on his kiss. He pulls me closer, caressing my hair, the back of my neck. Shivers dance down my spine. But I pull away. I’m the type of woman who has to know. I need to know how this will work. What our lives will look like.

  How we can possibly make a home together with our worlds so far apart.

  “Rockland—I... I can’t see myself investing in this... thing—”

  “You mean this love?”

  “This l-love, without knowing the how of us being together.”

  “When I got back to the Parish, I was waiting for you. To read my note. To contact me. I hoped beyond hope you felt the same way about me as I did about you. Then the days began to drag. I couldn’t just sit idle. So I started preparing. Making plans should you ever come to me.”

  A tiny glimmer of hope sparks in my heart. “What kind of plans?”

  “After I wrote the note to you that day, I went to Bronson. I told him that if you ever showed interest, I’d like to find my place back at the Village. And name my replacement in the Parish.”

  “What?”

  “I want Carter here. Leading my people. Sasha’s parents live here and they aren’t well enough to move to the States. If she were to have children, their grandparents would barely know them.”

  “I thought they wanted to move to the Hamlet.”

  “What they want is to have a family. And to be in a community to support their family and their values. When I proposed the idea, Bronson agreed with me that Carter’s character strengths were a perfect fit for this community. We flew him and Sasha here to see what they thought. And they love this place. Sasha was overwhelmed with happiness at the thought of being near her family.”

  “And John? Was he in on this?”

  “Sasha was given permission to tell Mary there was a chance her and Carter would be moving to the Parish. You know Sasha is like a daughter to Mary. Mary wasn’t having Sasha leaving without her. She booked the jet the next day and brought John down to visit. She loves it here, too.”

  “So everyone has this worked out behind my back?”

  “Pretty much. We were all just waiting to see when and if you would reach out to me.”

  “But isn’t John next in line? Wasn’t he upset when you chose Carter over him?”

  “Carter has the heart to lead my people. He has a warmth and a softness that will meld easily with their nature. He will be well liked. John will be a strong number two for him, balancing out his weaknesses. And John was quite happy to remain in a second-tier position. John knows he’s too hotheaded at times to be a good number one.”

  “Will they have to be tattooed? Carter—I can imagine him with one. Sasha would probably go crazy for it... but John? He’s so straight-edged, I can’t imagine it.”

  “It will be their choice but they would do well to assimilate to the culture. With all that working out Carter does, he’d look excellent in ink. And John’s been surfing on his visits out here. Who knows? Maybe once he has a tan, he’ll take the plunge.”

  I laugh at the idea of uptight John, tanned and surfing, his blond hair tousled from the salty water. But with Carter and John here at the Parish, where does that leave Rockland? “What would you do in the Village? Where would you fit into the Brotherhood now? I know you love your work and you excel at it. I can’t imagine you going from leader to second in command.”

  “I’d be fine pushing a broom around that place if I’m with you.”

  I smile. But his joke doesn’t ease my concern. “I don’t want you to sacrifice more than you already have for me. I’m sorry I can’t leave the Village; I feel so selfish—”

  His finger presses my lips, stopping my words. “I know, Tess. I know you can never leave Brett behind. And I love you for that.”

  Tears prick my eyes. How does he understand me so well? I swallow back my emotions. Wipe my eyes. Think of small talk to break the heaviness. “Will you be making any changes as second in command?”

  “Yes, a few, with Bronson’s blessing, of course. There will be curtains in every household, that’s for damn sure. And a couple of the men might have to tighten up on the strictness front. A few of you Beauties have been spoiled way too long.”

  I can tell by the glint in his eyes he’s teasing about the last part.

  I say, “I think some change could be good.”

  He says, “You’ll have a fresh start.”

  I grab his hands. Hold them in mine. “We will have a fresh start. Together.”

  “Yes.” He holds my gaze a moment longer. Then his eyes lower. His hand going into the breast pocket of his shirt. He pulls something out, dangling it before me.

  The light hits the black stones, glimmering as it twirls from the chain.

  His sword.

  He looks at me and suddenly his face has a boyish quality to it—as if he’s going to ask me to go steady. He looks almost... shy. His voice is quiet as he asks, “May I?”

  I’ve never wanted to wear anything more. I’m choking up and unable to answer him with words. So I nod. Emphatically. A huge smile crosses his face. I lean forward away from my pillows. He stands before me, circling my neck with the chain. Carefully clasps it in the back.

  The weight of the sword sits heavy and cold on my skin. Solid. Something I can hold onto. My fingertips go to the charm, twirling it and studying each and every stone. I whisper, “It’s beautiful.”

  “You’re beautiful. And it looks... stunning on you.” He can’t take his eyes from me.

  “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” His lips meet mine and my mind leaves my body. My heart wells and I feel in every ounce of my being pure joy.

  He pulls away too soon, murmuring in my ear, “My naughty little girl, running off in the woods like that. Don’t you know better than to get jealous?”

  “A simple misunderstanding,” I breathe.

  “Be glad you’re injured. You don’t even want to know what I would do to you if you weren’t.”

  “What would you do to me?”

  “Running away is a very serious offense. It would require a very thorough punishment.”

  “Like what?”

  “For starters, I would have to bring you in front of the entire family—”

  A wicked grin spreads. “You would never do that!”

  “Wouldn’t I?”

  He’s scooting me over on the bed. Lying beside me. Propped on one elbow, he looks over me. With his free hand, he’s pulling up my gown. I lift m
y bottom to make it easier for him. His hand is stroking my breasts, my belly. Lightly rubbing my pussy over my panties.

  “As I was saying, I would pull a big chair in the center of the room. Lay you right over my lap. Pull down your pants. You’d be crying and begging for me to stop but we both know your little yoni would be as wet as it is now. Wouldn’t it, my little voyeur?”

  He knows me too well. But I love that he would never share me with others, never let anyone lay eyes on what’s private between us two. But the thrill of it all! I play along, squirming underneath his light touch, my eyes wide, I look at him and say, “What would you do then?”

  “I’d smack your little bottom over your panties.” A light spank lands on my pussy and I moan, my legs spreading further. “Telling you what a bad girl you’ve been. That I’m going to give you a good hard spanking with everyone watching to teach you a lesson. And that everyone watching is to keep an eye on you and tell me if you’re being naughty.” His hand comes down again, a stinging smack right on my pussy over my panties. “I spank your bottom a little bit harder. And you’re squirming over my lap. Then I tell you to stand up. That I want you to pull your panties down in front of everyone. You freeze. You want to tell me ‘no,’ but you know it will just be worse if you do. That I might take my belt off and stripe your bottom in front of all those people. So you stand up.” He takes the waistband of my panties between his fingers, rolling them down over my hips. “Slowly, inch by inch, you pull down those panties. Exposing yourself to everyone. You quickly throw yourself back over my lap, eager to have your privates hidden. But as you do, you give everyone a view of your perfect ass.”

  My panties are gone. I lay on the bed, pussy exposed to him. Gently, he tickles my pulsing pussy. Tingles dance over my skin, goosebumps rising, my nipples tightening. I whisper, “Please don’t spank me in front of everyone.”

  He gives my bare pussy a hard, stinging swat and I gasp in surprised delight. I moan as he parts my vulva, saying, “Then I’d tell you to spread your legs. You don’t want to. You’re humiliated at the thought. But I give you a hard swat on your bare bottom—a warning—and slowly you comply. Now, your yoni is glistening, and everyone can see how aroused your punishment makes you. I slip my fingers within you—”

  As he says it, he does so. My legs spread for him, my knees falling to the sides of the bed. My headache is suddenly gone as my eyes close. I imagine myself, bottom and pussy bared for all to see. Over his lap, his big hand spanking my naked bottom. Me crying out as everyone watches. His fingers slide within me. The soft pad of his thumb, slick with my juices, finds my swollen clit. I’m mewing, my toes curling as he pleasures me. His words stop and his mouth finds mine. He’s kissing me, his tongue twisting with mine. His hand moves faster, the pressure building within me. My back arches, my muscles tighten. I feel feverish as my breathing quickens. A few more pumps of his fingers, a few more rubs on my clit, and I come in an explosive shudder. A smile of the cat getting the cream crossing my face.

  He’s taking off his clothes. Climbing on top of me. He says, “Lie still. I don’t want to upset your headache.”

  “What headache?” I ask. Then he’s sliding inside of me. The head of his cock presses within me. Slick and hot and pulsing, my pussy welcomes his full length as he thrusts.

  “What do you think Dr. Adamos would think of this?” he asks.

  I can’t reply. It feels too good, his cock pumping within my throbbing pussy. I’m so wet and he’s so hard and it’s just too good for words. I moan, my eyes closing, my head lolling to the side. The relief I feel washes over me, tangled with the pleasure I feel.

  He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.

  He’s coming home with me.

  His hand is on my face, his worried words caress me. “Tess, are you okay? Should I stop?”

  “If you stop, I’ll kill you,” I murmur.

  He chuckles, picking up his rhythm.

  My hips rise and I’m about to call his name when there’s a light knock at the door.

  “Shit! Just a moment!” There’s panic in his voice and it makes me chuckle. Fearless Rockland scared of being chastised by Dr. Adamos. He hops from me, lying beside me and pulling the sheet over our bodies. When he’s satisfied that we’re both covered up, he calls, “Come in.”

  The door opens and it’s Adrianna. She’s just as beautiful as she was when I first saw her—maybe even prettier up close. She says, “I just wanted to introduce myself—” Taking a closer look at us, she laughs a high, tinkling laugh and says, “Well, Rocky, you sly dog, you don’t waste any time, do you, but don’t you think you should—”

  “Not a good time for introductions, little cousin,” he says, his waiting erection pressing against my thigh.

  She gives a silly smile, then says to me, “Pleasure to meet you, Tess.” She flips the lock on the knob of the door, pulling it closed behind her.

  Rockland growls in my ear, “Where were we?” Then he’s on top of me and our bodies twine into one.

  Chapter Nine

  Three months later

  Tess

  There’s a banging on our door. I yell, “I’m coming!” rushing down the stairs to answer it. After making him breakfast and coffee, Rockland was off to meet with Bronson. Something urgent that cut short our usual morning routine of sex in the shower. I wrap my robe tighter around me as I stand on tiptoe to look through the peephole.

  It’s Sasha and she’s lifting her hand to bang on the door once more. I throw the door open and her hand falls by her side. She looks at me, frantic, then pushes past me, yelling, “Have you heard what’s happened?”

  “What?” I ask, shutting the door behind her. I hurry to catch up with her. She’s at my coffeepot, pouring herself a cup.

  She looks at me, annoyed that I don’t know what she’s talking about, and says, “About Paige? Have you heard about Paige?”

  I go to the fridge to retrieve the vanilla creamer I keep just for her. I flip the lid open and pour a generous amount into her cup. “What about Paige?”

  “Thank you,” she says, then takes a huge swig of her drink without even waiting for me to stir it. She slams it on the counter and begins to pace frantically between the fridge and stove, talking with her hands waving around to emphasis her words as she speaks. “I was just finishing up packing—you know I didn’t want to have to do any of it tomorrow since we have our going away party—and she called me and told me!”

  “Sasha, what did she tell you?”

  She stares at me. Slaps her open palms down on the counter and shouts, “She’s knocked up! Three months in already.”

  “What do you mean? She’s... pregnant?”

  “Yes!”

  “But how is that possible? We’re on the pill. We’re all on the pill.” Babies are a carefully thought out thing in the Bachman family. Unless you’ve already had one and are living in the Hamlet, or in the Parish. Not in the Village.

  “She lied to Bronson. She told him she was still taking it but that girl has had baby fever ever since he put that blue diamond on her finger. She left the jewelers and started working at the children’s boutique a few months ago. Ever since then she’s been all moony over babies and it gets embarrassing. Whenever we’d go out, she’d always be trying to hold strangers’ babies and—”

  “Sasha—so you’re saying she got pregnant on purpose without telling Bronson?”

  “Yes! That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  I plop down in a stool at the bar. “This is unbelievable. This has never happened in the Village before.”

  Sasha sits down next to me. “Tell me about it. I mean, Carter and I wanted babies too, but we had to wait. What’s it been now? Almost two years? And she wants one and just makes it happen. She knew Bronson would take his sweet time coming to grips with the idea of having children. Clever girl. Maybe that’s what I should have done.”

  I stop her. “No. Better Paige than you. Can you imagine what Bronson would have said if you had
pulled that stunt?”

  “That girl is his only weakness.” She rolls her eyes. “Carter would have been furious.”

  “What did Paige say that Bronson said about it?”

  “She said he was furious. Then he was in shock. She said about five minutes after she told him he snapped out of his state and was happier than she’s ever seen him. He was twirling her around and saying, ‘I’m going to be a father. We’re going to have a baby!’ Then he... kissed her tummy. Blech.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t picture Bronson like that.”

  “I know, right? Only for Paige. That Beauty has our boss wrapped around her pinky finger.” Sasha grabs her cup and takes a deep swig.

  Thoughts swirl in my mind. If Bronson has to go to the Hamlet—and soon—who does that leave to run the Village? “Wait...”

  “Yup. Looks like the Hamlet just got themselves a new leader.”

  “But then... earlier this morning, Rockland left in kind of a rush. He said Bronson was having some sort of emergency...”

  “Yeah—the plus sign on a pregnancy test kind of emergency.”

  “Oh, my God. But this means—”

  She holds her coffee cup up toward me and says, “Hail to the queen.”

  * * *

  Tess

  Rockland has just become the head of the family in the Village.

  The day is a whirlwind. Rockland comes home for a quick lunch to confirm what I’ve already heard.

  I feed him the chicken salad I’ve just made. The one with the honey and red grapes and pecans that he likes. He thanks me with a kiss, then sits down to eat. He says, “What a day. I didn’t see this coming.”

  I sit across from him, too keyed up to eat. I ask, “Was he upset?”

  In between bites, he answers me. “Would have been if he wasn’t so damn happy. Honestly, I think you’d be surprised at what a softy Bronson really is beneath his mafia leader persona. I think this is going to be a really good fit for him. In the Hamlet, running the legal side of the business, he won’t have to have such a hard edge. And he can focus on Paige and the baby.”