Detroit Mafia Box Set Books 1-3 (Detroit Mafia Romance)

by Tami Lund

  Picking up the bar of soap, she twisted it in her hands. “I’m going to make sure you’re squeaky clean, okay?”

  He chuckled. “I’d rather you get me really, really dirty.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. That’s going to happen too. But first, I want my hands all over your body.”

  He spread his arms, a silent invitation. She smoothed her soapy hands over his torso, stepping close enough that her breasts pillowed against his chest so she could rub his back and down to his ass, which flexed under her ministrations.

  “You are so fucking amazing.”

  She laughed. “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

  “Oh yes you have.” She was pretty sure he wasn’t talking about sex, which made her shiver.

  She stroked her hands down the front of his thighs, all the way to the top of his feet, bending at the waist until his erection was at mouth level. And then she slowly dropped to her knees and rinsed off her hands. Then she grasped his shaft and stroked it a few times before leaning forward and giving it a lick.

  He groaned, and she glanced up to see him staring at her with an almost scary intensity. Almost. But, honestly, she liked it. The idea that she could be the center of this man’s world. She shivered again and took him into her mouth, sucking him in as far as she could take him, one hand fisted around the root while the other tickled his balls.

  “Lola.” Her name tumbled out of his mouth, sounding reverent.

  She dragged her lips up his length and pulled him back into her mouth, again and again, until he placed one hand on the back of her head, twisting it in her hair, gently guiding her movements.

  “Lola.” His voice was guttural, rough. “I’m going to come. I’m going to—”

  She sucked harder, moved more quickly, clutching at his tight, muscular ass. Yes, this was how she remembered it, before Enzo, a sexual act that was empowering and heady and thrilling.

  And then he came, shouting out her name, and she continued to suck, her motions slowing and becoming more gentle until she pulled away and looked up at him. Water streamed over his shoulders, rivulets chasing down his torso. His chest rose and fell with quick breaths. His eyes were hooded, and for a moment, she questioned her own skills. Then he lifted her into a standing position, wrapping his arms around her while crushing his lips against hers.

  When he finally let her up for air, she gave a shaky laugh. “I guess you liked that.”

  “Hell yes. Although I’m convinced I’d like anything you do, other than maybe leaving me.”

  What an odd thing to throw into the conversation. It was, wasn’t it? They hadn’t talked about anything regarding this shift in their relationship, but they’d grown so close over the last couple of weeks, it hadn’t been necessary.

  His hands on her body distracted her, and he soaped her up, paying special attention to his favorite aspects of her body until she was breathing heavily and all thoughts of strange comments flew out of her head.

  Instead of stroking her to another orgasm like she’d hoped he would, he washed her hair. No man had ever washed her hair for her before. It was a sweet and yet erotic gesture she hoped he’d repeat again at some point in the future, because, wow, did it ever feel good. Would it be too bold to suggest they take every shower together for the immediate future?

  He twisted off the taps and snagged a towel and dried her first, including rubbing the excess moisture out of her hair, and then he dried himself, clasped her hand, and led her into the bedroom.

  Tippy was curled up, sound asleep in his dog bed in the corner.

  “I’ve had a lot of fantasies about you being in my bed.”

  “Really?”

  He snorted. “Lola, I’ve been masturbating to fantasies of you since the day we met.”

  She swallowed. “It’s really hot in here.”

  He chuckled. “Come here, let me see if I can make you even hotter.”

  If he did that, she might combust.

  With gentle pressure on her shoulders, he pushed her into a seated position on the edge of the bed, used his knees to nudge her legs open until she sat spread eagle, resting on her elbows, watching him lower himself to the floor and stare at her body in that reverent way he had. Picking up her right foot, he began a steady massage, and she sighed with pleasure at the tiny zings darting up her leg, straight to her core.

  “The feet can be an erogenous zone, did you know that?” he murmured.

  “I do now,” she said with a shaky laugh.

  “I like to touch you. I can’t seem to stop.” He kissed the top of her right foot and then switched to the left one.

  “That’s good, since I like it when you touch me.”

  He kissed her left foot and trailed his lips up the inside of her leg until he was so close she could feel his breath on her lady bits. “Do you want me to touch you here again?”

  “Oh God.”

  He lifted his gaze and tossed her a smirk. “Is that a yes?”

  She nodded. “Yes, please.”

  He drew his finger through her wetness, and she gasped. “I get a please? I do like the sound of that.”

  He spread her folds with both hands, leaned forward and licked her from bottom to top before suckling on her clit. She fell back onto the comforter, clutching at the fabric, gasping for breath as he did it again and again; lick, suckle, lick, suckle, until she was writhing and begging, “Please, Samuele, please!”

  He slipped two fingers into her, pumping while laving at her clit, and she came apart, her body arching and going rigid as the orgasm stormed through her until she could hardly catch her breath.

  Samuele’s hands left her body, and there was a sound, like someone shuffling through a drawer maybe, and she opened her eyes to watch him slide a condom over his erection. Then he stood next to the bed, grasped her hips, and pulled her to him, her ass lifted into the air and held with steady hands.

  One of those hands shifted, moving to his shaft, and he guided himself to her entrance, pushing gently until he filled her, and she groaned deeply, closing her eyes again to savor the sensations, although the visual enjoyment was certainly nothing to sneeze at.

  He pumped, a steady rhythm, his breathing rough, and Lola clenched around him, unable to do anything else in this position except simply enjoy herself. Oh, she was definitely doing that. Even more so when he moved one of his hands and began rubbing her clit with his thumb, and, mother of pearl, the man was about to give her the third orgasm of the night!

  “Samuele,” she said on a gasp, her body tightening, twisting, coiling.

  He kicked up the pace, rubbed even faster.

  “I’m going to…”

  “Yeah, me too,” he said through gritted teeth, and he began to slam into her, faster and harder, and she climaxed, crying out his name. A couple of thrusts later, he groaned, and she could feel him harden even more inside her before warmth spread through her as his movements began to slow until, with a gusty sigh, he pulled out and then leaned over her, kissing her so gently it was enough to make her weep.

  “I’ll be right back,” he promised, and he went to the bathroom, presumably to dispose of the condom. He returned with a towel in his hand, but instead of giving it to her, he gently cleaned her, another small act no one had ever done for her before, and for God’s sake, this man who swore he wasn’t good enough was going to make her fall for him.

  And she didn’t care about his warnings; she wasn’t sorry it was happening.

  6

  Are You Breaking Up With Me?

  Samuele woke up on his stomach, one arm curled around the torso of another person.

  Lola.

  She stayed last night. In his bed. And he’d spent every moment, until he passed out from exhaustion, memorizing every detail of her body. What she liked, what she loved, what really set her off, in very much a good way.

  And exactly what he knew would happen had; he wanted her to stay. He wanted her to move all her shit into his condo and offload that piece of crap house
they were working on and just stay in his life forever. She and Tippy, the loveable pup that had brought them together in the first place.

  Fate? Maybe, although Samuele had never put much stock into that idea. He’d been taught that you have to make things happen. Don’t wait. Just do it.

  His mom had taught him that. His dad had worked low-level security at a club that wasn’t owned by the mafia, but they liked to play there, so he had to learn whose balls to bust and whose to leave alone when shit erupted inside the place.

  Until the day he harassed the wrong person, and two guys dressed in impeccable Italian suits showed up at the door to inform Samuele’s mom that her husband had an unfortunate accident at work and wouldn’t ever be coming home again.

  That was when Mom took her fate into her own hands by becoming a mafia enforcer’s side piece. “I’m getting exactly what I want,” she used to tell Samuele when he was probably too young for those sorts of lessons. “He puts food on our table and buys me pretty dresses and I get to have fun without dealing with another sloppy man living in my house.”

  Her relationship wasn’t secret, though, and Samuele started getting hassled at school by her sugar daddy’s kids, who were a couple of years ahead of him and big as hell. So he made his own destiny by learning to fight dirty and put those sons of bitches in their places.

  Which caused his mom to end up in the hospital and she wasn’t a side piece anymore, and there wasn’t enough food to feed the two of them.

  By that time, Gino Sarvilli was already making inroads in the world of the toughest guy gets to be in charge, and he’d noticed Samuele all the way back in high school. So Samuele became his muscle during all those card games Gino instigated after school, in which he always cheated, and if anyone called him on it, it was Samuele’s job to put them in their place.

  He probably would have taken a permanent position on Gino’s payroll a lot sooner than this if his mom hadn’t died, which had fucked him up emotionally for a while.

  He was an only child and all the rest of their family was over in Italy, so Samuele had to take care of everything himself, and while he didn’t have a problem maiming and sometimes killing nameless people he didn’t know, seeing his own mother’s dead body, cleaning out her closets and finding out she’d boxed up and kept every single bit of his father’s belongings for all those years—it had really done a number on him.

  So he’d taken off, disappeared, used the money from the sale of his childhood home to be a beach bum for a while. Until he ran out of cash and made his way back to Gino, looking for work, because it was the easiest, fastest buck he knew how to make.

  That initial retreat out of this lifestyle was the reason he’d become so diligent about saving his money, socking it away.

  Because he’d liked not being a part of this life. He’d liked going to clubs and not thinking, that person’s causing a scene; I may need to break their kneecaps later. He’d enjoyed being a regular guy no one knew and no one had any reason to fear.

  Turning his head, he lay there and stared at Lola while she slept. Her bright red hair was tousled, a few strands covering her face, so he reached over and gently pushed them behind her ear. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled, and for a few precious seconds, Samuele could clearly see his future, one that involved Lola and him, a grown up Tippy, and a couple of kids. Maybe three.

  And they were all happy. Together.

  Her smile widened, like maybe she was having the same fantasy at the moment, but then his phone vibrated against the top of the bedside table. He turned away from her, grabbed it, and looked at the screen.

  And his fantasy imploded, just like that.

  “Fuck.”

  Without looking at her, he rolled out of bed, taking the phone with him, Tippy trailing after him as he moved far enough away that Lola wouldn’t be able to overhear the conversation.

  “Samuele here,” he said, unlocking the back door so the dog could go out and piss.

  “Heard you were at the club last night,” Gino said, and something in his voice did not sit well.

  “Yeah.” Samuele stood in the doorway, waiting for the dog to do its business, not worried that someone might see his flaccid dick, since he’d installed an eight-foot wooden fence around the perimeter of the yard. Besides, he was totally comfortable in his nakedness, especially after last night. He’d pleased Lola, over and over again, and if that wasn’t good for one’s ego, he didn’t know what was.

  “Vito wouldn’t shut the fuck up about the girl you were with. If it’s the same one whose house you’re remodeling, he makes it sound like it’s understandable why you’ve been holed up all this time.”

  Samuele dragged his hand over his face. Vito needed to mind his own fucking business.

  “You better watch out for Vito. He’s gonna try to steal her from you.”

  Let him try. “I think I know how to keep a girl interested.”

  Gino laughed, but then quickly sobered. “I didn’t call to chat about your dick. In fact, I don’t fucking care about your dick. I have a job for you.”

  Shit. “I told you I needed more time.” Why the hell was he stalling? At some point, he’d have to make a decision, and there wasn’t even really a decision to make. He was going to join Gino’s payroll—it was as simple as that. And when he did, he was going to have to let Lola go.

  That’s why he was stalling.

  “I don’t fucking care about your time. I have a situation. Someone on the inside of my organization has turned on me, and he needs to be eliminated.”

  Oh hell. Samuele hated these jobs worst of all. Putting a bullet in someone’s head after you’d worked with them on and off for years wasn’t easy, at least not for him.

  “Be in my home office tonight, nine sharp.” Click.

  Samuele lowered the phone and stood there, staring at nothing at all, until Tippy pranced over and licked his leg. And then he glanced down, into the hopeful gaze of that innocent dog, and he quickly turned away.

  He couldn’t even look the damn dog in the eye.

  Why the hell had she walked into his life? Fucking Lola with her cute little dog and her determination to get her life back on track despite being dealt one hell of a shitty hand. Her cup half full view on the world. She’d been all in with him, even though she didn’t know the half of what she was getting into.

  And for one hot second, he’d wanted to give her everything. Himself, a future, love.

  That very emotion he’d worked so damn hard to avoid for so damn long.

  The last thing he needed was to go on Gino’s payroll while he had a girl waiting at home, wondering if he’d make it back each and every night. Not to mention, he knew how these people operated; if he did something to piss off the wrong guy, that guy wouldn’t hesitate to go after the one thing Samuele loved.

  That was all assuming Lola would even want to be with him if she knew who he was, what he did for a living.

  Which he knew she wouldn’t. And that hardly mattered anyway, because he had no intention of giving her the option.

  It was time for him to get on with his life. Alone.

  It was time to let her go.

  When Samuele left to take his call, Lola stared at his perfectly muscular ass until it disappeared from sight. Then she rolled onto her back and stretched, spreading out on the huge bed, enjoying the sensation of probably one hundred thousand thread-count sheets that were like silk against her bare skin.

  There was a weird bump, near Samuele’s pillow. She smoothed her hand across it. Yep, the bed sort of pushed up right there. Either his mattress was starting to go or, more likely, he’d bunched up the corner of the sheet when he’d made it last.

  She leaned over the side of the bed and stuffed her hand between the mattress and box springs, intending to straighten out the material, but brushed against something cool and hard instead. What in the world?

  Sliding off the bed, she crouched next to it and lifted the corner of the mattress, and, holy crap, th
ere was a gun resting there, beneath where Samuele’s pillow normally lay, butt facing out, like it had been deliberately positioned for easy access. Either Samuele was paranoid about break-ins or…or there was another reason he kept a gun nearby while he slept.

  “What are you doing?”

  She jumped to her feet, far too conscious of the fact that they were both naked.

  His face was dark, like storm clouds had rolled in.

  “I…” She flapped her hand at the bed. “I felt this bump and I…”

  He sighed. “Found my gun.”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s for the best, I guess. Listen, I need to go back to work tonight.”

  “Tonight? As in, after dark? What is it you do, anyway?”

  He didn’t answer her question, saying instead, “You’re going to have to stay at your place tonight. And I probably won’t be there tomorrow. But I’ll check on the tile, make sure it’s being delivered.”

  She stared at him. “Are you breaking up with me? Seriously? While we’re both standing here naked?”

  “First of all, we aren’t even together. Second, there’s no way in hell I could break up with you while you’re standing in front of me naked, Lola. I can barely think at all when you’re naked.”

  She lifted her finger. “Hang on. You just insulted and complimented me all in one breath. Do you even realize that?”

  “Go get dressed. We have a lot of work to do today. We’re not nearly as far along as I wanted to be.”

  He headed toward the bathroom and she followed. “Yesterday you said we were making great progress.”

  He lifted the toilet seat and sighed. “That was yesterday.”

  “Samuele, talk to me. Is this about last night?”

  He didn’t look at her. “Lola, I told you I was bad news. I warned you not to get involved.”

  She supposed he had, except at the same time, he’d been dancing with her, mimicking the act of sex on the dance floor, promising that they were going to get naked together later, so it had been hard to take the warning seriously. “Why? What’s going on?”