by Bella Jewel
I take his belt and gently tug it off before unbuttoning his pants. He lifts his hips, his eyes heavy and lusty, and lets me slide them down. Then I reach into his boxers and free his cock. Beautiful. Hard. Powerful. It is everything he is, and he knows exactly how to use it. Anticipation swells in my belly and I lean forward, running my tongue around the tip. Rafael groans, low and deep, and it spurs me on.
I part my lips and slowly slide the head of his cock into my mouth. Making a tight circle around him, I start to suck, slowly at first, and then faster and faster. My hand finds the base and I curl my fingers around it, slowly pumping until he hisses my name, fingers curled into my hair. I continue to suck and pump until his hips jerk and he’s bellowing my name.
Then his come hits the back of my throat and I swallow with blissful delight. So incredible. These moments with him are absolutely breathtaking.
He slowly starts to pull out, his hands now stroking my messy hair back down. I let him slide from my mouth and look up at him, my lips tingling. Our eyes meet, and his lips curl up into a sexy, satisfied grin.
“Did I make it up to you?” I whisper.
He reaches forward, stroking his thumb over my bottom lip and catching some of his release. He slides that thumb into my mouth and I close my lips over it, sucking him off. “You most certainly did,” he growls.
My lips quirk. “Well then, am I forgiven?”
His finger moves from my mouth and slides down until he can cup my jaw. He tilts my head up and leans down, pressing his lips to my temple. “Always, cara.”
God this man.
The best.
CHAPTER 12
JULIETTA
I throw my head back and laugh, the pizza in my hand wobbling as I try to steady it from waving around. Rafael stares at me, his face amused, his eyes light and clear of any stress, which is rare for him. More often than not, he’s stressed and wound up. Tonight he’s relaxed and smiling, showing me a side to him I’ve not seen. It makes me like him more, which I try to ignore.
“So you’re telling me that in school, you were the skinny nerd?” I giggle.
He crosses his arms over his chest and nods. “Yes, that’s correct.”
I look him up and down. “I can’t see it. I just . . .can’t.”
His eyes flash with humor. “It was before I cared about being in this racket, when I was sure I’d take another path.”
“You didn’t always know this was where you’d end up?” I ask, placing my plate on the end table and shifting on the sofa so I’m facing him.
He swirls the whiskey around in his glass, staring at it for a long while before answering. “Honestly? No. I knew my father wanted that for me, but for a solid part of my life I was certain I’d go in a different direction.”
“I didn’t realize you actually had a choice.”
He looks at me. “I didn’t.”
I giggle. “Such a rebel.”
“I was going to take myself off to college. Fuck the mafia. Fuck my father. Of course that wouldn’t have worked, but I was young and believed if I just did a runner, he wouldn’t try too hard to find me.”
“Not your best plan I assume?”
He grins. God he’s beautiful. “No, but in the end my father did give me a choice. He said if life outside the mafia was what I wanted, then I could take it.”
I pick up my wine and take a long sip. “So why didn’t you?”
He studies me, his dark brown eyes causing shivers to break out over my skin. “Because my brother got killed, and I wanted revenge. Something inside me changed, and I knew to stop that kind of thing from ever happening again, I needed to take my place. I needed to be in control.”
My eyes are soft—I know they are. “I’m so sorry about your brother.”
He flashes me a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “The past is the past, cara.”
I hold his stare a while, and the intense moment is interrupted by his phone ringing. He pulls it out of his suit jacket and stands, glass still in hand. I eye him curiously as he turns his back to me and answers. “Yeah?”
He listens a bit, and his shoulders stiffen. “I’ll be there, ten minutes.”
He removes the phone and shoves it into his pocket before turning and striding over to me. He places the glass on my coffee table and leans down, pressing his lips to mine. “I have to go.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask, concerned.
“It’s fine, cara. Good night.”
He straightens, and I watch as he walks to the door, not giving me the chance to answer.
“Good night,” I whisper to myself as the door closes softly behind him.
That didn’t go quite as planned.
And for the first time since I’ve been with him, I’m scared and worried for his safety. I’m becoming too invested.
I need to back down.
~*~*~*~
“You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?” Celia demands two days later as she storms up and down my living area, her arms crossed.
I stand in my kitchen, sipping coffee and watching her. “What makes you say that?” I ask, hoping my voice sounds casual.
“You’re always busy, you changed your locks, and you’re always staring at your phone with a goofy smile on your face.”
I am?
Shit.
I try to keep my face blank as I say, “So what if I am?”
She stops pacing, turns, and squeals with delight as she charges towards me. “You are? Oh my God, why haven’t you told me? Who is it? What’s his name? What does he do?”
She’s rambling at a million miles an hour, so I place my hands on her shoulders and hush her. She’s practically bouncing on her toes, her eyes bright with anticipation.
“I can’t say much, because we want to keep things quiet for a while.”
She gets a disgusted look on her face. “Oh my God, he isn’t married, is he?”
I blanch. The very thought of answering that question makes me feel ill. If Celia knew what I was doing, she wouldn’t understand. She’d tell me to run a million miles. She’d tell me I was morally wrong.
Of course, she would be right. No matter how much I love having Rafael around, the very idea that he is going home to another woman pulls at my heartstrings. For both her and myself.
“Oh. Shit.”
I blink and realize I haven’t answered her question—I’m just standing and staring blankly at her. “Celia. . .” I begin, but she throws a hand up.
“I am your best friend; I know your expressions. I know when you’re lying and when you’re not. So look me in the eye and tell me this man isn’t married.”
I bite my bottom lip, and her eyes get big. “No, oh God no. Julie, what have you gotten yourself into?”
Unprepared for her guilt trip, I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment as I feel tears burn the backs of my eyelids. I’m not supposed to tell Celia anything, but I need to get it out. I need to tell someone. She’ll keep this secret until the day she dies, I know that, so I don’t even try to hold back when I start rambling.
“It’s Rafael. Oh God, Celia. I’m screwing the boss of the mafia.”
Her entire body goes still. Her eyes widen and her lips part.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I continue, not giving her the chance to speak. “I didn’t mean it to happen. Well, I didn’t intend for it to, anyway. He came to me, returned my purse, and he asked me to be his mistress. He explained how it all works and then he promised me all these things . . . then he kissed me. Oh God, Celia, I like him. I really do. He’s under my skin and . . .”
“You’re the mistress to the highest-ranking member of the Italian mafia?”
My hands start trembling, because when she puts it like that, it’s terrifying. I drop my head and whisper a soft, “Yes.”
“Oh Lord,” she says, taking a step back and letting herself fall into the sofa. She puts her head in her hands and remains that way for a long, long while. I go and sit beside her, not knowing wh
at to say or do.
“He’s good to me, Celia. He says that if I want to move on, he’ll let me go. It’s not just sex; he spends time with me and . . .”
“Are you hearing yourself?” Celia whispers, lifting her head and looking at me. “It’s not even about the fact that he’s married. I know how those kinds of men work—they have a lover on the side, I get that. It’s his position and the danger you could end up in that’s the problem. What the hell were you thinking?”
“He . . . I don’t know . . . he made it impossible to say no.”
She shakes her head sadly. “This is dangerous, Julie. You could get killed, or worse—he could change his mind and decide you’re never leaving.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” I whisper, pleading with my eyes, praying she’ll understand.
“You’re sure of that?” she questions.
I look away. “It’s just a bit of fun.”
“Then why the hell do you look like a lost, sad puppy waiting for a pat?”
I flinch. “It’s. Just. Fun.”
“You’re falling for him.”
I shake my head and turn away. “No, I’m enjoying him. There is a difference.”
“I think you’re playing with fire, and because I love you, I’m going to tell you that I think you should stop.”
I turn back and glance at her. “I’ve tried.”
She studies my face for a long while, her eyes roaming over it, then she sighs. “God, Julie . . .”
“I know, but you’re the only person I can tell, and I need to talk to someone. Please, C. I know you don’t agree with it but please . . .”
She reaches out and takes my hand. “I’ve got you covered, but know this—I think you should end it when you can. I can’t make you, and I’ll be here for you if you don’t, but that’s what I think.”
I nod.
She smiles.
But we both know I won’t be ending anything.
I’m in way too deep already.
CHAPTER 13
RAFAEL
The phone ringing beside me jerks me from my deep thoughts. I’m lost in my own world, waiting to hear news that this shipment went out safely. I see Vincent’s number on the screen and my chest tightens. I pick it up quickly, pressing it to my ear and saying, “Vincent. Talk.”
“Boss,” he says, but his voice is thick, full of emotion.
I stand, sending my chair flying backwards. “Vincent,” I demand.
“All dead. Set up. They had no chance.”
My fingers tremble as I fight the urge to crush the phone into a thousand tiny pieces. I sent eight men to ensure that shipment went out safely. Eight.
“How?” I rasp, trying to stop the pain rising into my heart.
“They were waiting all around—I don’t know who, I don’t know how. The men got out of the car, loaded the shipment, and the other guys opened fire. Just shot them down like dogs in a field.”
Vomit rises in my throat. “Meeting. Now. Call it.”
“Already done. We’re on our way.”
“We have to end this, Vin.”
He’s silent a moment before he rasps, “I know.”
I hang up the phone and then send it flying across the room. An agonized bellow is ripped from my throat. The door to my office opens and Maria comes in, her eyes wide and panicked. “Rafael, is everything okay?”
I spin to her and try to bring my emotions down but it’s nearly impossible. “I lost eight men tonight. I’m calling a meeting. Will you prepare the room for me?”
Her face drops. “I’m so sorry. I’ll prepare the room now.”
I nod and give her shoulder a squeeze as I walk out past her. I need fresh air. I can’t fucking breathe. I practically throw the front door open and charge out, inhaling over and over as I try to make sense of the situation. Someone is fucking with us, but whoever it is, they’re clever. They have details. They know how we work. No one could set up an attack like that without having inside information. That means I’ve got a rat. Someone I trust, be it inside my circle or outside, has betrayed me.
Fuck.
“Raf?”
I jerk my head up to see Vincent walking up the front path, followed by Benito, and Riccardo. My most trusted. My eyes scan their faces, and all of them look solemn, broken. I jerk my head in a nod and turn and walk into the house. My throat is tight and words escape me. The room is prepared, with the round table cleared and laid out with food and whiskey. Maria knows how we work. She even has a drink set ready and waiting for me.
We all take a seat, and I curl my fingers around my whiskey glass, taking a long sip before placing it down. Then I turn to Vincent and murmur, “What happened?”
He takes a shot of whiskey and meets my eyes. “You’re right, boss. Inside job. It has to be. Whoever took those men out knew precise locations and times. They knew when we’d arrive, how long it would take to load the shipment, and the small amount of time they had before it was sent away. They had clear shots and they took them.”
“Whoever the fuck is doing this is smart,” Benito says, his accent thick with emotion.
“It’s inside,” I say, my voice steady and calm. “Just as we first suspected.”
“Why?” Vin growls. “Why are they taking shipments and killing our men?”
I swirl the whiskey around in my glass. “I don’t know. It could be to mess with us; it could be to sell to a higher payer; it could be a number of reasons. What I want to know is who the fuck is calling the shots. We find that out, we find out why.”
“What’re your suggestions?” Riccardo asks.
“Gather a list of people who handle our transactions—that includes outside parties. Anytime we do a shipment, find out who is involved. I’m going to pay them all a visit.”
Vin’s eyes flash with anticipation. Benito nods his approval, and Riccardo just stares.
“I promise you all this,” I say, standing. “We’ll find out who is doing this, and when we do, they will die a painful, cold death.”
With that, I turn and walk out.
I need a release, and I know just where to get it.
~*~*~*~
JULIETTA
I’m just about to lock my door for bed when I hear a firm but not overly loud tapping at it. Frowning, I glance down at my tank top and boy shorts and hope to hell it isn’t my young, obsessive neighbor again. He’s visited me three times in the last three days with lame excuses such as needing milk and asking me if I heard any ‘strange’ noises. I know better, and I know he’s just trying to make conversation.
It’s late now, though. I’m not in the mood.
I walk over to the door and go up on my tiptoes, glancing out. I see Rafael standing there, his hands on the door, his head dropped. My heart lurches, and I swing the door open so quickly he loses balance and is forced to take some steadying steps to avoid falling. His eyes flash to mine, and I see pain behind them. So much pain.
“Rafael?” I whisper, worried.
“I lost eight men tonight. Friends. Family. Gone.”
My heart cracks open for him and I step forward, taking his hand. “Honey,” I say softly, watching as he loses his composure.
My strong, powerful man’s shoulders slump, and I wrap my arms around his body as he gives me some of his weight. He buries his face into my hair and curls his arm around my waist, pulling me so close and holding me so tightly I can hardly breathe. I let him. I bring him as near to me as I can, holding on until he’s ready to let go. He’s defeated and broken. I’ve not seen him like this before. It’s terrifying and alarming that this life can do this to him.
“Let’s get inside and shut the door,” I suggest gently and he releases me, letting me close the door.
I turn when I’ve locked it and see him over by the window, just staring out. His shoulders are still slumped, and he’s not carrying his usual demeanor of power. My heart aches for him as I walk over, placing my hand on his back and gently moving it up and down. “What can I do?”
He turns around and pins me with those pained brown eyes. “Make me forget, cara. Make me forget.”
“How?” I breathe.
He reaches forward and runs his thumb over my bottom lip and I know without him saying anything what he needs, and I’m more than willing to give it to him. I step forward and go up on my tiptoes, curling my fingers into his hair and bringing my lips to his. I kiss him softly. I’ve never kissed him with this much emotion before, and it scares the hell out of me because it feels so right.
Our lips move together, slowly, unrushed. In the background, the music I was playing softly changes and a slow, deep song comes on. Rafael pulls back, his eyes holding mine, and he pulls me into his arms and before I know it, we’re dancing. It’s slow, intense, and so fucking beautiful my heart burns for more. Our eyes stay connected as our hips sway, moving haltingly around my living room. I know in my heart that this moment that will forever be frozen in time, imbedded in my mind for the days when all hope seems lost between us.
When the music finally starts to fade, my heart is pounding. It’s pounding because it’s so desperately trying to inform my brain something I already know . . . I could fall for this man. I can’t. It’s against all the rules, but when I’m standing here in his arms, breaking the rules seems like the right thing to do. Everything inside me is screaming for more, but my brain knows best.
I can’t want this with him, and I have to hold back, put a block over my heart.
My thoughts are washed away when Rafael dips his head and kisses me, soft and deep. My arms curl around him tighter and I kiss him back.
I let him take from me what he needs. I let him lower me to the floor and peel all my clothes off. I let his mouth devour every part of my body. Then I open my soul at the same time as I open my body and I let him in.