In order to truly save him, I need to redefine us.
Xander Dixon was my best friend.
Loyal and dependable.
A brave warrior.
A permanent presence in my life until that fateful day he boarded a plane headed overseas.
* * *
Xander’s unwelcome silence haunted me for three years…
Until he suddenly resurfaces.
Blinded by misplaced fury.
Trapped in a pool of darkness.
Unable to escape the perpetual pain.
* * *
Though it would be easy to walk away, I refuse to give up on him.
I want to know his misery and torment, so I can rescue him.
Then Xander will finally be mine.
Free with Kindle Unlimited!
Forget You Not
A standalone sweet second chance, military romance.
* * *
I didn’t believe in love at first sight until Lark stood before me.
Pretty sure I would have married her on the spot. Too bad fate had other plans.
Duty called and I had to answer—no matter the consequences.
There wasn't a chance for goodbye, but I'd never forget her.
Time has a way of creating change—but only on the surface.
Even after all these years, I know Lark is mine.
I belong to her just the same.
The moment I see her again, it’s a done deal.
All I've got to do is convince her this is forever.
She can push but I’ll only pull harder.
I’m not letting our second chance slip away.
* * *
Free with Kindle Unlimited!
Watch Me Follow
A stalker, double virgin standalone romance.
* * *
Creep. Freak. Crazy Eyes.
I've heard it all.
Over the years, they've slammed me with every demeaning name in the book.
Their taunts warped me like a steady stream of poison.
Anger replaced anxiety as I started believing the cruelty spat my way.
Until she showed up and changed everything.
Lennon Bennett is pure innocence—warm sunshine breaking apart my stormy existence.
She's everything good and maybe I can be too.
For her. With her. Because of her.
Lennon doesn’t know I’m beckoned closer with each breath.
She isn't aware that I'm completely consumed with her.
It’s become my sole purpose to protect her, by any means necessary.
But if she discovers the depth of my obsession, it will be the end of me.
So, I remain in the shadows.
Waiting. Watching. Wanting.
She'll be my first. My last. My only.
* * *
Free with Kindle Unlimited!
Blame It On The Shame
A Spoiler-Free Extended Epilogue
Ashley Jade
* * *
I check my watch, look around the dimly lit restaurant, and mutter a curse.
She's over ten minutes late.
My driver Tony has about another five minutes left on his own proverbial clock before I murder both him and his relatives. And that's me being generous.
I grind my molars when another minute goes by and there's still no sign of her. So help me God he better bring her to me in one fucking piece or they'll be finding bits of him all over New York City.
It's bad enough I haven't seen her in days since I've been out of the country, but now I have to worry about her whereabouts and pray to some biblical figure that she's okay.
I bring my phone up to my ear for the second time. "Baby, either call me when you get this or bring that sweet ass of yours down here. I love you." When I hang up, some jerk off at the next table over snorts and makes a face.
"Hey, buddy. I suggest you keep your eyes and ears to yourself unless you want them removed with a rusty spoon." When he turns to face me, his eyes widen, the reality of who I am appearing to be dawning on him. "Sorry, Mr. DeLuca. It won't happen again."
Yeah, goddamn right it won't. Assholes like him are the reason I don't go out in public much. I like my privacy. I like my business. I like keeping my family close and my enemies even closer.
But my girl? She deserves this shit. The normal crap that couples do.
So, here I am. Sitting in a shitty Italian Restaurant, wearing a suit that costs more than most people's mortgage, with a pile of stale bread sticks in my face, and a full glass of Jack.
A bouquet of dandelions lays on the table beside me.
The waitress saunters over. "Would you like a refill?"
I sit back against the booth and run a hand along my jaw. I don't have a long fuse and stupid fucking questions really piss me the hell off. But she looks young and relatively new to not only this restaurant, but life in general; so I'll cut her some slack. "I'm good."
When I go back to my business and she makes no move to leave, I glare at her. "Something I can help you out with?"
I raise an eyebrow when she purses her lips and straightens her spine, pushing her tits out in her low-cut shirt.
I really shouldn't laugh at her attempt to flirt with me, but I can't help myself. It's no secret I'm a family man now, but apparently this girl didn't get the memo. She's playing with fire.
I avert my gaze. "Spare me the song and dance, sweetheart. I'm taken."
She makes a show of looking around the restaurant and biting her lip, leaning in uncomfortably close. "Well, no offense, but it doesn't really look like you're taken tonight, Mr. DeLuca."
The broad has some brass balls, I'll give her that.
I raise my glass to my lips and finish my drink in one long swallow, the amber liquid coating my throat. "On second thought, I think I'll take that refill."
She opens her mouth to say something, but I don't hear a word of it because the door to the restaurant opens and my breath leaves my lungs in one big whoosh.
I've seen her enter and exit a thousand different rooms, in a hundred different cities, in a dozen different countries.
But every time still feels like the first time I laid my eyes on her. Hypnotic. Like I'm in a trance that I never want to come out of.
The moment those beautiful, brown doe eyes of hers pierce me, the air around me changes and everyone else ceases to exist. Because there's only us. Forever and always.
I'm more than just taken...I'm ensnared.
She walks toward me like a woman on a mission. The red silk of her dress clinging to those little curves of hers has my pants tightening and I shift in my seat. Her long, dark brown hair is loose tonight, nearly falling to her slim waist. I want to run my fingers through it while I make her scream my name as she comes all over my cock. Or my face—I'm not picky. Instead, I bring my knuckle to my mouth and bite it.
It earns me a sly grin from her.
"Who is that?" the annoying waitress whispers as she approaches us.
My little spitfire glares daggers at her and sticks out her small hand. When the waitress takes it, she gives her a sugary sweet smile. "I'm Mrs. DeLuca. Nice to meet you." The woman's face falls and Lou-Lou's grip on her hand tightens as she leans in. "And the next time I catch you cozying up to my man, you'll be eating through a straw for the rest of your life. Got it?"
When the waitress nods rapidly, she pats her shoulder and pinches her cheek. "Good, then we should have no problems."
The waitress runs along, forgetting my empty glass, and Lou-Lou slides inside the booth. "I'm ten minutes late and you-"
"Fifteen." I cross my arms over my chest and stare her down. "You were ten minutes late five minutes ago."
She rolls her eyes and reaches for a breadstick. "There was traffic. It's Friday night."
I don't say a word, I'm too pissed. She had me worried sick about her and she knows how I am about her not contacting me. She's not with some Joe-fucking-Schmo from the Upper East Side. She's with
a mob boss who has more enemies than he does designer suits. And fuck knows I got a lot of them. Point is, she has a damn phone for a reason.
When her full lips wrap around the breadstick, my cock twitches. Fucking Lou-Lou-even when I'm mad at her, the woman has the power to simultaneously turn me on and bring me to my goddamn knees. Something she's fully aware of.
"Cut it out." My voice comes out gruff and dark.
We haven't even had appetizers and already she's got me all riled up.
She takes the breadstick out of her mouth and licks her lips, a move that does nothing to help the situation in my southern region. "I told you, there was traffic."
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. "Last time I checked, traffic doesn't impact your ability to pick up a phone and return a call."
"Jesus, it was ten minutes."
"Fifteen," I bark. "Fifteen minutes that I didn't know whether you were dead or alive. Fifteen minutes where anyone could have taken you and hurt you." My voice drops to a rough whisper and I look her right in the eyes. "Fifteen minutes that you weren't with me."
She swallows hard and looks down. "Okay, fine, Ricardo. I'm sorry I didn't call. I should have."
"Why didn't you?"
"I was taking care of something."
I don't like the sound of that. Not one bit. "Taking care of what?"
She calls the waitress over, dismissing me entirely. After she orders her meal, I look at her. "What's going on, Lou-Lou?"
"What's going on is that I just ordered the Ravioli, I hear it's really good."
When I pound the table, she jumps. "Goddammit. Can you just drop it?"
"No."
Her face softens. "How about you just trust me then, Ricky?"
Warmth coats my heart with those words and I feel the ice start to thaw. I don't like having any secrets between us, lord knows there's been too many to count in the past.
She reaches over the table and touches my hand, rubbing her thumb over my knuckles. Her touch is better than any medicine out there.
"I'm okay, nothing happened to me, and everything is fine. Now can we please just enjoy our dinner?" She looks up at me through those thick lashes of hers. "Please?"
I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it. There's no point in arguing with her right now anyway, sooner or later she'll have no choice but to tell me. Either that or I'll find out on my own. I'm hoping for everyone's sake it's the former, because if she's involved in some bad shit or someone is fucking with her, I won't blink an eye when I burn the entire world to the ground. In fact, I'll piss down their throats as I light the match.
When I skim my lips over the underside of her wrist and kiss her pulse that's pounding wildly, her breath hitches. And just like that, this shitty Italian restaurant is the furthest thing from my mind.
I want her home, in our bed, writhing underneath me and gasping for air. I want her coming so hard she cries and scratches those nails of hers down my back while she says my name over and over again.
I want to bend her over every surface of our home and fuck the daylights out of her, and then when she can't take any more; I want to switch it up and go nice and slow, make her beg for more. And finally—I want to end the night by burying myself so deep inside her I don't know where I end and she begins.
I want her to drown out the noise, bring me back to life in the way that only my Lou-Lou can.
It's been 96 hours, 23 minutes, and 5 seconds since I've been inside her. In other words, too fucking long. And the look on her face right now tells me she feels it too.
* * *
She crosses her legs underneath the table and I graze the smooth skin of her calf before making my way up her thigh. "I forgot to tell you how beautiful you looked tonight."
It's a mistake I'll never make again.
She blushes, and the fact that I can still make her do that after all the years and all the shit we've been through together tugs on my heart.
"It's fine." She shrugs. "You've forgotten a lot of things lately, with you being gone so much and all." I don't miss the hint of bitterness in her tone.
"Baby-"
The waitress brings out our food and I have to control the impulse to pull out my gun for interrupting us. Lou-Lou's right, though. I haven't been home much during our first month of marriage. Something in my chest tightens with that thought. Lou-Lou deserves to have normalcy and I want to be able to give that to her.
She digs into her food and I stare at her, wondering how I got so lucky and what I can do to make this night better. Truth is-I'm a great lover but a shitty husband. It's no secret that being the head of the mafia doesn't promote longevity. It's not exactly known for its vacation and 401K plans, either.
I try to make time for us, try to do little things like take her out to dinner to make her happy when I'm around, but it's not enough. I know it's not and she knows it's not. But Lou-Lou's not the kind of girl to complain—because when you've lived the life that she has...
I clench my hands into fists and take a breath. My brain won't allow me to finish that thought because I'll end up painting this place in blood.
"I love you," I tell her. "You know that right?"
She smiles. "I know you do, Ricky. And I love you." The sadness is back in her eyes again and it cuts like a knife. "It's just sometimes..." her voice trails off but I urge her on.
"Sometimes what, baby? Talk to me."
Those baby browns bore into me. "Sometimes I miss you so much it hurts." She rubs her chest, almost like she's trying to rub away the ache. "Really hurts."
I pull on her hand until she stands up, then I motion for her to come over to my side of the booth. When she sits down next to me, I tug her close, my lips ghosting over her ear. "Close your eyes for me."
When she does, I run my lips along her cheekbone. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"
She opens her mouth to answer, but I bring my finger to her lips. "Don't. Just feel me, Lou-Lou. Feel the way I love you."
She settles against the booth and my palm finds the spot above her heart, the strong organ that beats for me and me only. The organ that has the power to bring me to my knees time and time again.
"Il mio piccolo superstite," I whisper and goose bumps line her soft flesh. "I'm always in here. I'm always with you, baby."
I kiss the tear that rolls down her face and bring her hand up to my own heart. "And you're always with me, because this is yours. Don't you ever forget that. No matter how hard it gets, don't you dare give up on us."
She shakes her head. "I won't. Ever."
I lower my head and suck the delicate skin of her collar bone until she hisses out my name. I know Lou-Lou's body better than my own. I know the way she likes to be touched.
And despite the fact that I'm a villain to those with a pulse...I know how to love her.
I open my mouth but anything I was going to say vanishes when she slips my hand between her thighs. "I need you to touch me," she breathes into my neck. "Please."
She knows she doesn't even have to ask. Fighting back a groan, I slide my hand under her dress. When I feel her smooth, slick skin, my teeth clench. "Fucking hell, Lou-Lou. You're not wearing any panties."
Her tongue darts out to lick that plump lower lip of hers. "I'd say I'm sorry, but we'd both know I'd be lying."
Jesus, this woman is going to take me out long before a bullet ever does.
I dip my finger inside her, almost to the knuckle, and her hand covers mine, pushing me further into her heat. It takes everything in me not to sink down to my knees and expose that little, pretty pussy of hers while I make her come with my mouth.
"So greedy, baby," I murmur against her ear as I stroke her in swift and long glides that have her drenching my fingers. "So fucking wet for me."
Her back arches against the booth and she bites her lip. She looks so fucking gorgeous right now with her eyes closed in ecstasy, her rosy cheeks, and her tight, little body humming in pleasure.
My thumb b
rushes over her clit and she raises her hips, bucking into my touch. "I want to take you on this table right now," I growl, flicking my tongue against her ear. "Fuck you for dinner and eat that sweet, pussy for my dessert."
Those puckered nipples and the way she's gripping my finger for dear life tells me that she's so damn close. I wish we weren't in the middle of a restaurant because I'd catch every drop of it on my taste buds. Hell, I may just do that anyway because she's got me wound up like a fucking sling shot.
She reaches for my neck and pulls me so her lips are right over my ear, and then she says the words that always drive me to insanity. "I'm about to come so fucking hard for you, Ricky."
My dick rubs painfully against my zipper, begging to join the party and claim his favorite place. I pinch her clit between my fingers and she parts her lips. My Lou-Lou is a screamer, so I quickly cover her mouth with mine as she goes over the edge. Our tongues duel and I swallow her throaty moan.
Our kiss is fire and passion, volatile and explosive. She pulls and I push. She gives and I fucking take. I take every ounce of my Lou-Lou, drowning in her, refusing to come up for air.
That is until intuition hits me like a punch to the gut and I open my eyes. Only to find the asshole from before staring at us while doing something to himself under the table. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what.
Anger pumps through my veins and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I don't give a shit about this guy looking at me...but getting his rocks off to my Lou-Lou?
Yeah. That shit's not happening. Not now. Not ever.
Over my dead body. Or rather, his.
I reach for my gun and point it at him. Then before anyone can say a word I pull the fucking trigger.
TO BE CONTINUED...in part 3.
* * *
★★Part Three★★