192: A Dark Mafia Bodyguard Romance

by Nikki Belaire

  “Well you know those machines don’t install themselves.”

  He pats my shoulder with the awkwardness of a gorilla paw and guffaws like my joke is the funniest thing he’s heard in a long time. He’s all right. In a sleazy politician hustling for votes kind of way. Thinking this village leadership role is a stepping stone to real office. Always acting as if he’s thrilled to see you and unnervingly adept at remembering names and occupations, whether they’re real or not. Keeping me on my game to make sure I keep the few details I’ve shared with him straight.

  “Please introduce me to your gorgeous companion.”

  Probably the truest thing he’s said all night. “Hayes, this is Viviana.”

  I don’t share her last name or her relation to me, and he’s too slick to ask. Would never want to make any one uncomfortable. Which is exactly what would happen if I share that she’s my fiancée, and she’ll be wearing my ring very soon since I’m not sure if she’s accepted the fact yet.

  “A pleasure Viviana. Is this your first time here in our marvelous little community?”

  “Yes. I’ve only been here a few days, and I’ve fallen in love already. I can see why you are so proud.”

  Very keen. No doubt my girl’s sharp. Figuring out quickly he’s someone who enjoys having his ego stroked. Although knowing her sweet nature, she probably means everything she says to him.

  “Wonderful! Let me introduce you to my wife. I think the two of you would get along splendidly.”

  He steps back and scans the crowd of about forty people already inside the grand hall. Approximately half occupy the brown overstuffed leather sofas and chairs while small groups gather around both stone fireplaces with even more working their way through the long buffet set up in front of the back wall of floor to ceiling windows.

  “Mia!”

  A blond looks up from her phone and follows the direction of his bellowing voice, smiling when she catches his eye.

  “Come here darling, I have someone I want you to meet.”

  She pushes up from the chair slowly, balancing her hands on the thick arms to thrust her weight forward, and waddles in our direction. He meets her half way, wrapping an arm around her waist while he caresses her stomach with his free hand. Despite being a pompous ass, at least he’s good to his wife.

  “Mia, this is Viviana. She’s new to the area.”

  “Welcome! We’re so glad you’re here.”

  She gives my princess a sincere yet awkward hug maneuvering around her bump. “I need a drink but since I can’t have one, we’ll get you one and I’ll live vicariously through you.”

  Viviana smiles from Mia’s warm laugh. Light-hearted and vivacious, she definitely is the genuinely fun one of the couple.

  “Is it okay?”

  Neither of them seem to notice Viviana’s uncertainty. Unaware the true meaning of her question. “Yeah, of course. I’ll meet you back in there.” I nod toward the party before kissing her cheek. “Have fun.”

  Mia loops her arm through Viviana’s, guiding her toward the bar in the corner. “You could have a margarita. Oooo! Or a cosmo sounds great. I like wine too. Do you like wine? They can do spritzers if you…”

  Now I’m the pansy ass worrying about her. She’ll never be out of my sight, and she seems only slightly overwhelmed. Giggling from Mia’s incessant chattering in her ear as they stroll away.

  Just like his wife’s diatribe, Hayes rattles on next to me about the village’s battle against annexation. Of which I give exactly zero fucks. I only care about her. Watching as Mia plays unwitting intermediary between the bartender and Viviana. All three of them deep in passionate discussion until finally my princess nods, and the guy pours her a glass of red wine. Laughing even harder as Mia dips her nose to inhale the bouquet and feigns heart palpations from being overcome.

  “So can I count on you for your support in this dire initiative?”

  “Of course.” I have no fucking clue what I’ve just agreed to. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except that Viviana’s returning to me. Glowing with bliss from the success of their mission. With so much more at stake than just obtaining a beverage. “Anything you need.”

  “I appreciate it Stieler. I really do.”

  I hold out my hand to her. Only a little bit guilty stealing her away from Mia. Proud of my angel, I want her to know it. I kiss her temple and tuck her against me as carefully as I can to keep from jostling her cabernet. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes. All this amazing food is making my belly growl.”

  “Mine too.” Mia grabs her husband’s arm. “But then again I’m always hungry lately.”

  We follow them in pursuit of dinner until Viviana looks up to me. Her forehead pinched with confusion. “I’ve never done this before. They usually bring plates to our table.”

  “This is better because you can pick what you want and as much as you want. I’ll show you.”

  I love how much she trusts me to take care of her. All the bewilderment evaporates with my reassurance. I keep her wedged securely between my arms as we move down the line. Loading my plate with chicken skewers, white chili, and guacamole, while she nods to my offerings of barbeque ribs, buffalo wings, and nachos. Cracking me up with her choices. It’s on. My tiny beauty came to eat. “You better be sure you leave room for dessert.”

  “Oh I will. I promise.”

  Absolutely no doubt she’ll love that smorgasbord of sugar too when I see her eyeing the chocolate fountain and platters of cheesecake squares. Her shy smile greets mine when we set down our plates at an open table. “May I go and wash my hands please?”

  No. I don’t want her out of my view for even a second. But Hayes and Mia exchange raised eyebrow looks with each other from Viviana’s request. Questioning her submissive nature. Wondering about our relationship. Assuming I’m a controlling bastard.

  Which for all intents and purposes I am. To protect my princess. “Of course angel. I’m heading to grab a drink myself. I’ll show you where the restrooms are.”

  Fucking liar. Acting like her leaving my presence is no big deal. That I don’t mind at all she’ll be away from me and Dante or some other motherfucker could grab her.

  “I can show her.” Mia pats her stomach in explanation and slides out of her chair. “I need to go myself.”

  Damn fucking hell. I can’t say no without looking like a complete asshole. Keeping mute as they walk away from me. Hayes digs in, squirting mustard on his burger. No worries about his wife at all. Which is totally rational for him. Should be for me too. But I’m not at all rational when it comes to Viviana.

  I hustle to the bar and order the craft beer that’s the specialty drink of the evening. Never taking my eyes off the hallway where I last saw her. As soon as the cold bottle hits my palm, I bolt, following the girls’ same path. Pulling out my phone, I lean against the wall pretending I’m engrossed in my screen when the only genuine obsession I have is getting her back.

  After a few minutes the door to the ladies room swings open. Not her exiting, but for a few seconds until the wood hits the frame again I see her. Peering at a tube of lipstick a woman holds out, pointing to the label on the bottom. My pussy ass heart slows in its race. She’s fine. Safe and secure physically as well as emotionally. The other women didn’t scatter. She didn’t chase them away. They’re interacting with her. Friendly. Kind. Gracious. Hopefully proving to her she was never the problem. Never the reason for her solitude.

  Shoving my cell back into my pocket, I take a long swallow. My own discomfort finally dissolving, and I head back to our seats. A third woman accompanies Mia and Viviana on their return. The animation in Viviana’s expression so fucking beautiful as she talks to the older blond, her slender hands gesturing along with her words while the woman nods in agreement.

  Fuck me if Viviana doesn’t curl her fingers around my thigh after she sits down. Keeping the conversation going with Mia about the shops we went to yesterday, while connecting with me too. The first time
she’s ever initiated affection between us. My cock goes as crazy as my heart. Both of them wanting to whisk her away from all of this and prove to her how much I really do love her.

  Instead, I pretend like I’m not insane and wrap my hand over hers. Giving her a gentle squeeze.

  A heavy set man wearing a tie covered in basketballs approaches our table. One of Hayes’ buddies that I can’t recall his name. He smacks the president on the shoulder and grins at all of us. “We’re setting up a quick darts tourney for half time and need some more couples. You guys in?”

  I glance at Viviana, who’s already wide-eyed and nodding. “Do you want to play?”

  Why the fuck am I even asking. Of course she does. I nod to the guy. “Count us in.”

  Her peck on the cheek is all the enticement I need to agree as well. I promised myself I would give her an amazing night and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

  “I had a great time.”

  The first time I’ve ever heard the dreamy quality to her voice, and I fucking love the reverie in her tone. “Me too.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything so hot.”

  I can’t help but chuckle from the memory of her gulping water after tasting the ghost pepper sauce on the chicken tenders. My hand automatically glides to the long strands lying across her cheek, and I brush them away from her pink skin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman so hot.”

  Yeah, I’ve had a few beers. But I’m far from drunk. At least not because of booze. Because of her. Glowing with her natural beauty as well as enjoying a fun night that didn’t end with her bloody or bruised or belted. Just cuddling on the sofa by the fire with the man who loves her more than he thought possible.

  “Christina? The lady in the purple wrap? She is beautiful, isn’t she?”

  I’m not sure how she’s serious, but she is. So damn modest. “No angel. You. I’m talking about how fucking stunning you are.”

  “Oh…” She looks up, resting her chin on my chest and gives me a smile I’ve never seen before either. “Thank you.”

  Not just happy. But almost liberated. Like a woman who loves a man and isn’t afraid of him or his affection. Nothing is more right and real than in this moment. The past and future are a blurry haze and only the here and now is where we exist. “I’m a fucking lucky bastard to have you.”

  “It’s me who’s lucky.” Her dainty fingertip circles the button near my neck. “Tonight’s the first time that I can remember in my entire life I didn’t feel it.”

  Now I whisper too. Mimicking her cryptic style. “Didn’t feel what?”

  “That ache I always have in my stomach. When I missed the bull’s eye and we lost, I looked at you and…” She hiccups a little sob and her head tilts. A lone drop slides out of the corner of her eye, trailing down her temple into her hair. “…you still smiled. You weren’t mad.”

  I swipe at the wetness with my thumb. Despising the tears but loving her realization. “Nothing to get mad about. It was just a game. I didn’t care if we won or lost. We had fun. No reason to get upset.”

  “But, it’s more than that. You never get upset. You never get angry at me.”

  “And I never will angel. If something happens and we disagree, we’ll talk it out. No yelling or hitting. Just talking. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Her eyes clench shut and her tits shove deeper into my chest with her deep exhale. Calming her emotions while stirring mine. I’m about ready to explode just like I have been for the past four days. But I refuse to be any more of a bastard than I already am. When she’s ready, she’ll let me know. We’ll both know. “It’s getting late, and we’ve got mass tomorrow.”

  Kind of perverted talking about church when my cock’s this fucking hard. But I’m barely hanging on with her touching me. With her sweet body draped over mine. With the scent of her sweet, flowery shampoo wafting across me.

  She stands up from the couch, and I miss her already. Completely adorable holding out her hand to me like I always do to her. I rise and bring her fingers to my mouth, kissing across each knuckle while an indulgent smile lifts her lips. Murmuring against her silky skin. “My pleasure to escort you princess.”

  “I appreciate your escort my king.”

  Fuck if that’s not sexy as hell. I know she’s just imitating a long-ago fairy tale or some child’s story but for some reason that slays me. It takes all of my restraint not to start working my cock from the heat blazing between us.

  All I can do is nod. No words would be safe for her to hear right now. Especially when her head rests on my shoulder while we walk. Comfortable and content. Not greedy and hungry and desperate like me.

  My feet refuse to move when we reach the end of the hallway. A literal fork in the road. Left to her room, right to mine. I can’t seem to turn where I should rather than where I want.

  “Roan?”

  Looking up with the trepidation I swore I would never cause to darken her sweet face, she pauses next to me. Unwilling to rebel. Or resist. Just waits like the good girl she is. I stroke down her shoulders, attempting to ease the uncertainty with my touch if not my words. “Stay with me tonight angel. In my bed.”

  Shock storms in her eyes. A sharp inhale that steals my breath too. “To sleep. I promise nothing else. I just want to hold you. I want you close to me.”

  Her gaze refuses to sustain mine, and she glances toward her door. “I…I’m n-not…I need to–“

  Fuck, I’m frightening her. “It’s okay.”

  I’m a god damn fucking bastard. Too much too fast. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you.” I slide my finger under her chin and turn her back to face me. Needing to kick my own fucking ass for the dejection shading her expression. “I’ll see you in the morning okay?”

  Scarlet stains her cheeks. Embarrassed by my idiocy. Uncomfortable because I’m a fucking dumb ass. How could I be so fucking selfish? Thinking with my cock instead of remembering how fragile she is. What she endured. She finally nods, quick and sharp before staring at the carpet again. “Good night princess.”

  With her head still low, she steps back and twists away. Unable to get to her room fast enough. Frantic to get away from me and my damn stupid request. Never even looks back once she crosses the threshold.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m wired now without any outlet. I promised I wouldn’t box without her. Too noisy to run on the treadmill, and I sure as hell can’t go outside and leave her unprotected. I storm to my room. For once I can’t even fucking jack off. Not when I wanted to be touching her instead of myself. Totally worth fighting to keep my need in check and relishing every fucking second of her curled next to me. Sweet torture I would have loved. Until I fucked it up.

  I’m almost shaking I’m so pissed at myself. So I do the only thing I can. I drop to the floor and start counting off. My face almost smashing to the carpet as I strain against my raging muscles. Taut with anger rather than fatigue. Which I’m going to fuck earn. Even if it takes all night.

  I toss my razor back on the counter. Despite shaving, I still look like shit. Exhaustion finally creeping in about two a.m. after hours of push-ups, sit ups, jumping jacks, dips off the edge of the chair, and every other fucking exercise I could think of until my body finally collapsed.

  My sleep was just as restless. Filled with dreams of her. Good ones where she came to my bed and allowed me to apologize with and without words. Nightmares where she cried and bled from me hurting her when all I tried to do was hug her or hold her hand. Startling me awake from her screams when bruises erupted on her delicate skin regardless of how gently I touched her.

  After swiping specks of white cream off my neck with the towel, I pat on a few drops of her favorite aftershave. Well, I think it is. She told me once I smelled good, so now I always use the lotion. Because I’m a fucking pussy as well as an idiot.

  I stride to the bedroom and yank my shirt over my head, tossing the wrinkled tee onto the equally messy comforter tangled with the sheet
s. Lugging my suit out of the closet, I pause. I haven’t worn a tie in years. Not since Denny’s funeral. The memory smothers my anger and slows my jerky, rough movements rumpling my formerly crisp white dress shirt. My best friend who should still be alive if he hadn’t been so impatient. Too eager to get back home to his girl who was going to make him a daddy any minute, and he jumped the gun. Literally, and now he’s dead because of his mistakes. I refuse to do the same thing. I’m rushing her and need to slow the fuck down.

  With new resolve, I hustle to her room. Ready to start fresh and regain her trust. Which will be so much harder than I hoped.

  Because she sits on the motherfucking bed.

  God. Damn. It.

  A timid smile without any joy behind the expression crosses her face. “Good morning.”

  Hesitant rather than jovial. Posed almost as a question. Asking if the morning really is good. If we’re good. Like in the past. Before I ruined everything. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes, thank you for asking.”

  The dark circles under her eyes say otherwise. Of course she would never complain. Or speak her mind. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Would you like to punch me in the throat for being a fucking moron? ‘No, thank you’ is what I know she would say but I wonder if she would really mean her polite words this time.

  I hold out my hand, and she stares at my fingers. The first time she’s ever hesitated from my touch. A neutral mask slides into place that she used to wear when that motherfucker screamed and belittled her, and she slowly edges off the mattress. All of her eagerness to be with me vanished. “How about after church I take you out for breakfast? Maybe some pancakes or French toast?”

  “Okay, thank you.”