She flushes from my term of endearment and fuck me if the pink bursting on her ivory skin doesn't make me rock hard again. I'd fucking love to see her body respond to the other words I'd whisper in her ear as she sprawls naked underneath me.
Eli runs back in, clutching a yellow box to his chest, yanking me out of my pussy ass daydream. Thinking like a motherfucking idiot that there could ever be anything physical between me and her.
He lays the plastic container on the table, and with a reverent touch his fingers slide open the clasp. I rummage through antibiotic ointment and tiny scissors to grab some gauze and show him how to apply pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding. His little head bobs, absorbing every word and direction with the seriousness of a surgeon saving a life.
I glance at Molly, checking to see if she's getting as much of a kick out of him as I am. But, her entire focus remains on Eli. That weepy, 'oh my sweet baby' expression that women get when their kids impress them with their ingenuity. The look my mother used to give me. The look I haven't earned in a very long time.
"Like this?"
His face pinches in concentration as he presses against her skin with more force than necessary.
"Yeah, it's perfect."
A huge, snaggle tooth grin lights up his face from my approval. So proud to be taking care of the woman who always takes care of him. He pats her again, his little nails curling against the edge of the cotton, peeking to see if the bleeding has stopped. "She needs a Band-Aid."
"Well, go ahead then. Put one on."
I swear to fucking god his narrow shoulders square back, determination filling his tiny fingers as they manhandle a bandage decorated with his favorite cartoon character and clumsily pull off the protective papers before placing it crookedly over her gash. This time his gaze flicks to her, seeking her acceptance of his handiwork.
"Thank you, Eli." She twists her foot side to side, inspecting his efforts with a thoughtful exaggeration that makes him beam with pride. "You did a great job."
His almost iridescent blue eyes glow even brighter and scarlet stains his cheeks. "You're welcome."
"Good job, little man." I toss my head toward the mess in the entryway. "You clean up in here, and I'll take care of the glass."
"Okay!" He fists most of the discarded packaging and grabs the kit before running back down the hallway. Little pieces of white paper swirl in his breeze like confetti.
Once he's out of sight, I turn back to her. "You okay?"
Short white nails pick at the adhesive, quickly straightening the dressing to properly cover her injury before he returns. "Yes, thank you."
She fiddles with the latex more than necessary, unwilling to look at me. Fucking great. Things are more awkward than ever, if that's even fucking possible. Now we need a fucking preschooler to chaperone us. "I'll get the broom."
Yeah, I'm a fucking pussy. Easier to avoid the tension between us than try to resolve it.
Her head finally flies up. Uncertainty lining her stunning face. "Th-that's okay. I can do it."
Even worse. She thinks I'm too fucking spoiled to even sweep my own god damn floor. "I got it."
A hesitant nod to my harsh tone. Taking my anger at myself out on her. Bastard. I shake my head. "I mean, it's no problem. You rest."
Hopefully that didn't sound as lame out loud as it did in my head. This girl fucks with me more than I can stand. I mean I'm the motherfucking king of Chicago, and I'm trying not to upset my fucking baby-sitter. At this rate, I'll be passing out fucking sorry notes instead of bullets to the motherfuckers who try to cross me.
This is why. She is why. Easy pussy on a Friday night keeps your dick satisfied and your head in the game. Worrying over some sweet angel's delicate feelings gets you fucking dead. I need to leave her the fuck alone.
It only takes me searching in three cabinets to find some weird mini vacuum that I guess Mrs. Benson uses to clean in here. I plug in the cord and get a sick pleasure from the machine gun sound vibrating through the tubing like shrapnel flying through the plastic. So much more satisfying than the silencers we have to use most of the time. My trigger finger involuntarily curls.
Sometimes I miss the old days when I was the one running and gunning for my father. Now I'm sheltered from most of the real stuff. Haven't broken a jaw or snapped a neck in years. Which means I'm getting soft. Sitting on a throne makes you an easy target. Probably time to be out on the streets again. Put a bit of fear back into the motherfuckers who might think I'm getting complacent.
I turn the sweeper off and Eli's disappointed voice fills the air instead. "He won't go. He has to work. He always has to work."
Fucking motherfucker. He doesn't even want to ask because he already knows the answer. Fucking jaded at four years old.
"Well, we can tell him all about it when we get back. Maybe even bring him some cotton candy. He'll really love that surprise."
That's not the surprise from her that I'd love to receive, but I've got to stop thinking with my dick and take care of my brother. And make her stop having to fucking defend me. I shove the vacuum back into the little cleaning pantry and step into the kitchen. "Let me get in a quick run and then I'll be ready to go with you guys."
Eli's face lights up like fucking Christmas morning, and I fucking love it. "Really? You're going?"
"Of course. But I call dibs on the jaguar on the carousel."
Could I sound any more fucking lame? But the kid loves it.
His competitive streak kicks in, and he thumps his chest with two fingers before head bobbing me. "It's all mine."
A move so like me it almost shocks me. And scares the fuck out of me how much he looks up to me. Watching me enough to mimic me. I've got to step it up. I hold back my laugh at his tough ass attitude and wink at him instead. "We'll see."
Molly's giggle makes both of us turn to her. Oh fuck. She's got that weepy ass look on her face again. It's annoying and more gorgeous than hell. I tap my watch and point to each of them, both of them laughing now.
I jog out the back door. It's only a few hours. How bad could it be?
3
Chapter Three
It's worse than I ever fucking imagined.
I'm actually having a fucking good time. With him. With her. Like we're some kind of god damn stepford family. Eli's well behaved, saying please and thank you to everyone. Charming the girls running the face painting stand. They fawn over him, adding extra stripes and whiskers to his tiger and giving him a free balloon. He rewards them by blowing kisses and winking as much as a four-year-old can manage when we walk away. Making them squeal all over him again.
I don't think Molly's smile can get any bigger. Never wavering even when Eli spills ranch dressing on her slender leg from accidentally dumping his tray of chicken tenders. In those fucking tiny ass shorts she should not be allowed to wear in public.
I've had to hold back from throat punching several stupid motherfuckers ogling her. I mean we're a couple with a kid. For all they fucking know he's my son and she's my wife.
Wife.
Fuck me. I've got to stop thinking shit like that. Nanny. Nothing but hired help. Nothing but a woman who makes me forget about the gun tucked in my back waistband. Stop thinking about the two bodyguards always a few steps behind. Ignore my phone constantly buzzing with bullshit from a vicious world that feels miles away from Eli's hand tucked into ours, as we swing him into the air while we walk over the bridge toward the miniature farm. His giggles fill the air brighter than the abundant sunshine.
A sharp contrast to the dim light inside the building. Eli pauses in front of a display featuring several three-foot white plastic egg shells, the perfect size for a little kid's body. Several children climb on them as well as a nearby green tractor. He flexes on his heels, ready to bolt, and his huge blue eyes beg mine. "Can I play too?"
I know the kid gets lonely, sequestered in the fortress I've built for him. Pre-school for a couple of mornings a week isn't enough. Besides, letting him prete
nd to be farmer for a few minutes lets me catch up on the messages blowing up my phone, so I nod. He jumps forward and then whips around, tugging Molly's hand closer to mine and forcing them to entwine. "Stay together. Don't get lost."
"Okay Eli." She answers to his back because he's already gone, quick to make buddies with another boy crawling army-style through the fake grass. Her brief glance to me confirms her uncertainty, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear with her free hand while she stares at her gray and white tennis shoes. "That's what Ms. Abigail tells them when they go on field trips. They have to buddy up so no one gets lost."
Guess that's his teacher at The Brownstone Academy, where I drop five grand a month for him to listen to classical music while he finger paints. It's pretentious as hell but one of the few schools where no one blinks at armed bodyguards hovering around the tiny students. Rich parents willing to pay anything to get everything they want. "Good rule to have."
A timid smile lifts her rosy cheeks and she nods. Her gaze flicking from her feet to our fingers. Uncertain what to do.
Fuck if I'm going to be the one to let go. I could get fucking drunk from her delicate hand tucked into mine. Silky and warm. Surprisingly calm. Unlike all the women I've ever fucked in the past. Who always wanted something. Pulling me closer. Ravenous to touch me. Intent on seducing me. Desperate for money. Attention. Me.
Yet, she asks for nothing. Hell, she even paid for the tickets the first time she took Eli to see a movie. I had to put a stop to that shit real quick. Now the little yellow wallet tucked in her backpack is stuffed with cash and a black card with her crooked signature, inked with trembling fingers. Never greedy or presumptuous. I'm sure she second guesses her purchases all the time. Like I would ever double check or give a damn. Her care of Eli is worth every fucking penny.
She shifts her weight again. Maybe seeking a bit of relief from her embarrassment. Even that's fucking sexy as hell. With her shallow breathing. Perfect handfuls of breasts rising and falling under her glittery silver tee shirt. Dainty fingers fluttering from her hair to smoothing over her narrow waist to sliding in her pocket.
But the best fucking part — she doesn't release me either. Which makes my lame ass heart happy and my cock pissed as hell. Urging me to do more than hold her hand like a fucking twelve-year-old.
"Um, Luciano?"
Now my dick's really pissed from her almost whisper. Reminding me that I could have any fucking woman I want and with her, I haven't done a damn thing. "Yeah?"
"I've been wanting to ask you. I mean...If it's alright...I need to..."
I hate the fucking rambling. I'm trying to be a good guy here which is fucking killing me. But most assholes wouldn't be so patient.
So, as much as I loathe the loss of contact, I drop her hand and curl my finger around her belt loop, yanking her to face me. Only a few inches separate us. The top of her head doesn't even reach my throat. This has lawsuit written all over it. I'm almost fucking groping my employee. But I fucking hate seeing her lack of confidence. She's fucking beautiful, smart and compassionate. None of which means she can't stand up for herself.
"Do I frighten you Molly?"
Her petite body trembles under my inquisition. Grazing mine when she shudders. Making me so fucking hard to know the power I have over her. Which I don't want any other motherfucker to ever have. She's mine.
"I just..."
"What?"
She finally, finally looks up. "I don't want you to be mad at me."
The only thing that could ever make me mad is you leaving. "Ask me."
Her shoulders roll back thrusting out her nipples even more. Fuck me.
"It's my twenty-first birthday next week and my friends want to take me out to celebrate."
Her confession spills out in one long breath, and it takes me a few seconds to process her request. Until it hits me like a fucking freight train. Her drunk. In a bar. Wearing some sexy outfit. Dancing with some douche bag trying to get into her wasted pants.
Hell the fuck no.
"It's just Saturday night. I'll be back the next morning. If you don't want me to it's totally fine and I—"
"Sure."
"Really?"
A relieved smile lights up her gorgeous face. All the worry gone. There's my girl.
"Yeah, but one condition." I head bob toward Boz and Duncan standing conspicuously behind us. "You have to take a bodyguard with you."
To protect her innocence and my sanity. Then I can watch over her without looking like the total possessive asshole that I am.
The frown returns. Damn it.
"But...I thought they were for you and him."
She glances toward my brother, who's completely oblivious to our conversation. Battling pretend bad guys with his new buddy, while I worry about the real ones. Who could harm her. And then they would have to die.
"They protect everything that's important to me."
Fire that I've never seen before flames in her huge eyes that I want to be lust so damn bad. She scans my face. I'm sure searching for bullshit. That, for once, isn't there.
Her fingertips brush over the hollow of her throat, stroking the tiny bones I'd love to fucking bite. Making her scream with pleasure. A nervous habit she probably doesn't even realize she has. "I'm important to you?"
"Yeah, angel, very much." What the fuck am I doing? I need to shut the fuck up. But this girl makes me say and do the stupidest shit. I'm using the lines on her that get me pussy. But what scares the fuck out of me is this time I actually mean them. I've got to stop before I can't control myself. "You're my employee. Eli would be upset if something happened to you. I can't deal with that."
Total. Dick. Move. My shitty comment extinguishes the passion in her eyes and her face falls, the budding smile sliding off her flushed face faster than the semblance of conscience I was starting to develop. What the fuck? I don't do guilty. I don't do nice. And, I sure as hell can't do my fucking nanny. "So if you don't want him to worry, you'll let me protect you."
Even worse dick move. Turn the tables and make her feel guilty for saying no. Which I know she can't stand. Too soft-hearted to upset him. Or me.
"S-sure. Of course."
She steps back, and I have no choice but to let her go. Physically and emotionally. Good. Exactly the way it should be.
Her head hangs low as she strides toward Eli, confirming I hurt her. And, I'm a bastard. But a smile covers her face as she talks to him and the other kid. Maybe I'm mistaken. Or maybe she's really good at playing pretend.
Just like me. I scroll through my messages, ignoring her while she acts like everything is fine. Because that's exactly what I want.
After reading the string of emails marked urgent, I pound the tiny keys. Ordering the death sentence for some motherfucker who thinks he can get away with hacking one of my online gambling sites. My guys are going to fucking love breaking his code as well as his face.
"It's okay with me, if it's okay with your mom and dad."
Mom and Dad. My head flies up from the jovial voice echoing across the open space. Surreal like those lame movies where everything suddenly goes silent and the words hang in the air, thick with shock and uncertainty. My gaze flies to Eli.
"But...my mom and dad are dead."
The woman's face flushes, and she swallows hard, her hand flying over her mouth. Not her fault but it still guts me just the same.
"I-I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I thought you were..."
She glances from Molly to me, trying to figure out what the hell we are. A guy steps closer to her and nods to the other boy. "Come on, guys. Let's go check out the zebras." He nods to the kid, whose confusion lines his forehead. Not understanding why the fun has ended so quickly. "Nolan, tell your friend bye, okay?"
Good. Take your perfect family and get the fuck out of here. Because now I have to try and fix his fucking broken heart. Of course, Molly is faster than me and already has him tucked against her. "I've been having so much fun with you. Thanks f
or coming with me today."
"I'm having fun too."
His tone doesn't sound quite as confident as his words. But he seems to welcome Molly's embrace. His small arms sliding around her hips, resting his head against her stomach.
"It's almost time to go. But we can't leave until Luciano rides his jaguar. Or you know how he'll pout."
Eli lets out a genuine laugh from her teasing. At my fucking expense. Can't let that pass without razzing her back. For my brother, of course. "Well you'll probably want a girly animal like a peacock or a dolphin."
I wink at him and bump his shoulder with my elbow, trying to get him to gang up on her with me. But he shakes his head. Not going for it at all. "But, she is a girl!"
Total fail. Guess not all my jokes are funny to a four-year-old. Got to work on my act.
He takes our hands again, and this time I ruffle his thick hair, like a Dad would. I think. What the fuck do I know about being a father? Mine was always too busy chasing pussy to bother with me. Except when he needed something.
The silence isn't uncomfortable as we meander to the carousel. A huge yawn escapes Eli's mouth and he snuggles closer to Molly, dropping my hand for her forearm.
"Molly?"
"Yeah buddy?"
"Will you be my mom?"
I stop walking, my feet unable to keep carrying the burden my bastard father left me. These are times I despise him the most. Fucking leaving Eli motherless trying to escape from his mistakes. Only to make the biggest one that hurt the smallest victim.
They pause too, and Molly kneels down in front of him. She strokes his face, his cheek filling her palm from him leaning into her gentle touch. "You have a wonderful mother who I know loves you so much even though she's not here."
He nods, accepting the tenderness she lavishes upon him.
"But, you know what? I already love you as much as a mom could love her son. And I don't think she'd mind if you love me too, because your heart is so big I know you have enough room for both of us."
Straight, No Chaser: A Mafia Alpha Bad Boy Romance Page 2