Straight, No Chaser: A Mafia Alpha Bad Boy Romance

by Nikki Belaire

  "Bennie's coming from the east on the next street."

  Good. I gun it, pushing eighty as I ram his bumper. Loving his head whipping forward from the force. Fucking hating her flopping against the seat belt. Hold on, baby girl. I'm coming for you.

  Hunter jerks again, but he has no place to go with Bennie pushing against the truck bed. So fucking grateful he avoided Molly's door. We shove him into the empty parking lot of a recycling center. Luckily closed for the day before we go to war. Hunter breaks hard to the left, skidding around to face us. A fucked up version of the game of chicken. Except he's going to be riddled by a bullet rather than a car.

  The driver side door kicks open, and he comes out shooting, as erratic as you would expect from a guy with only six fingers. A motherfucking sawed off shotgun. Powerful but ineffective. Especially with four guys trained on him. But he doesn’t give a damn. He only wants me. Wants me to suffer as much as he did. Which he ensures so effectively, dragging her out by the hair. Burning fury deep in my bones with her fragile body limp, flopping against him like a rag doll.

  My palm flies up, ordering my men to stand down with a single hand raise. They obey my every command, making any sacrifice necessary to support the business. But, this time it’s personal. With a motherfucking bastard desperate for revenge. Which is exactly what I’m going to give him. My life to save hers. Because I know she’ll take care of Eli even when I’m gone. Which is all I ever wanted before I fucked up both of their lives. “Trade Hunter. Me for her.”

  I chin bob to Bennie and his team fixed on the asshole. “They won’t do a damn thing to stop you.”

  His vengeful laugh, sharp and reckless, crosses the asphalt. “I know they won’t. Toss the gun.”

  Hunter nods, a crazed smirk glowing on his face from my Glock sliding toward him. I follow the same path and take a step forward, while he tosses her to the ground, ready to reach for me. Motherfucker. My body pulsing to be so close to saving her from this bastard.

  A primal yell rips from my mouth when he twists, sweeping the barrel from me to her when her hand claws at the concrete trying to lift herself up.

  “I told you to stay down you stupid bitch.”

  Hell the fuck no. She will not die. I race forward and ram into him, but not before he pumps a damn slug into my leg. Son of a bitch that hurts.

  But I’m high on rage and love, and the pain can’t even fucking touch me. All I see is the hatred on his demonic face. The contempt for her goodness that I will not allow him to destroy.

  Shock widens his eyes when I pull my weapon from my back waist band and press the tip to his forehead. “See you in hell motherfucker.”

  His body, slick with sweat and agony, spasms underneath me when the bullet pierces his brain, and I shove off. Using the last bit of my strength, I crawl to her. Leaving a smeared trail of blood across the sweltering pavement. I somehow make it up onto my ass, and clutch her against me. Ignoring all the commotion of my guys rushing to eliminate the proof of our crimes. Blocking out the rest of the world bustling around me, except her sweet face. Soft with relief for both of us before her eyes sink shut and she’s out again. I cup her cheeks and kiss her anyway. “I love you angel.”

  18

  Chapter Eighteen

  A slight moan whispers between her pink lips and her hand slides up my chest, clenching my shirt. I stroke her hair. Trying to comfort her. Both of us. As well as quash the panic squeezing my chest that I hope doesn't explode inside of her when she wakes up enough to realize it's me holding her.

  "Luciano?"

  My taut muscles relax from her relieved whisper. My lips automatically press against the top of her head. Needing to soothe her. Both of us. "Yeah, angel, it's me. You're safe now."

  She snuggles in tighter. Regardless of how much I've disappointed her, she still trusts my gentle touch with her. Absolutely no doubt that I will give my last breath to keep her safe.

  I nod to Doc Wallace stitching my leg. My body humming from her closeness rather than the pain. He peers closer, examining his work so far.

  “The bullet went clean through. Lucky not to hit the femoral artery.”

  "You about done?"

  The corner of his lip curls up. Irritated with me for rushing him. "Yeah, you're welcome. I always love getting yanked out of bed at three am to patch up your sorry ass."

  This is why I love this guy. Busts my balls even with me a ghost’s breath from death if that motherfucking bullet hit only a few inches to the right. Yet, he still examines my woman first. Without me even having to tell him.

  He stands and stretches, fingertips kneading into his back as he groans. "Remember, if she's dizzy or confused when she wakes up, call me. Might be a concussion."

  I clench up without even realizing it until fire sears through my muscles from the image bursting into my mind again of that fucking bastard hurting her. So fucking glad that motherfucker is dead. "Yeah, I will."

  He gestures toward her, cuddled against my good side. “You need help?”

  “Nah, I got her.”

  And, I always fucking will. I’m never fucking letting her go again. A huge yawn overtakes him while he tosses his supplies into his bag. Already thinking about crawling back into his bed. Just like I am.

  Once the door closes, I shove off the chair. Ignoring the inferno engulfing my thigh. Because my pussy ass heart is too happy to feel anything but grateful my angel is safe and back where she belongs. Still limp and groggy, she doesn’t utter a word when I lay her on the cool sheets, tucking the thick comforter around her.

  I gingerly strip, trying not to bust my ass with my fucked up injury, and toss the ball of bloody clothes into the corner. Taking the quickest shower I’ve ever managed with a gimp leg and throbbing cock thinking about her waiting for me. She cannot wake up alone.

  Her body instantly curls into mine when I slide in behind her. Still damp from my half ass attempts to dry myself. Doesn’t fucking matter. I’d lay here all night, cold and wet, just to be with her.

  My dick stays hard for fucking hours nestled against her silky back. Every nerve in my body pulsing from her vanilla scent wafting over us. Her long silky hair bundled against her slender neck. Her fingers curled around my arm on her waist apparently welcoming my touch. Fucking heaven.

  A sudden terrified cry slashes through the silence. Blankets whip off our bodies as she jerks up, swaying forward trying to scramble off the mattress.

  “Eli!”

  I grab her tiny wrist and tug her backward, needing to reassure and protect her. “He’s fine. He’s here, in his bed, asleep. I swear.”

  Her woozy gaze meets mine. Searching my face for confirmation. “He is?”

  “Yeah, I promise.”

  She nods. Erratic bobbing with her injury. “Okay.”

  Allowing me to help her lay back down, she doesn’t flinch or protest from me engulfing her. Letting me hold her tighter than I ever have. Yet, her relief is fleeting. The realization of what happened to her must set in, and she convulses in my arms, sobbing softly against my cheek. One of the worst fucking sounds I’ve ever heard. And not a damn thing I can do to alleviate her suffering like this.

  Silky strands sway under my lips as I kiss her forehead. “Shhhh. It’s okay. You’re both safe now. It’s all over.”

  “I was so scared.”

  Motherfucker. “I know.”

  “I thought he was going to kill me.”

  It takes everything I’ve got not to go fucking crazy. Even thinking for a second about how close I came to losing her makes my body strain with fury. Reeling from how frightened she must have been. Of the chance I took with her and Eli. So fucking stupid not to have more protection on them. “I would never let that happen.”

  Her fingertip traces over the angry red line crossing my tat, still scarred from the night I gave myself to her. Physically and mentally. Reminding both us of what we had. Stirring my greedy cock to life again. That I know she has to feel bulging against her belly.


  “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Me too angel.”

  My voice clogs with need I can’t hide. My heart as desperate as my dick. She looks up again. Studying me with an intensity that threatens to choke me. The internal battle playing out on her face to let me in or let me go. I try to force myself not to move or speak or give into my instincts fucking screaming at me to take her.

  But, I can’t do it.

  I can’t fuck up this opportunity to redeem myself with her.

  So I do the only thing I can. I let her break me.

  Dipping down, I softly press my lips to hers. Savoring the taste burned into my soul with the purest branding iron. Then I feel it. The tiniest shift. The smallest stretch. She opens for me.

  She lets me break her.

  Slow and tentative her lips part, consenting to my tongue sweeping inside. A feeling of home washing over me from the tender touch of her hands sliding around me and pulling me closer. Sheathing her body to mine like she used to. Slaying me with the intensity of her need for me.

  Nudging her onto her back, I drive my fingers through her hair, framing the sides of her gorgeous face with my palms. Welcoming the bittersweet smile mixing with her tears. Keeping her gaze locked with mine as I push inside of her.

  This is more than making love. So fucking more than making her scream my name or bringing her to orgasm. Instead we couple together so deep and completely that we don’t know the difference between our tangled bodies. Whole. One. Absolute.

  Reminding her with my kisses how much I love her. Showing her with my gentle caresses that I cherish what she gives me. Begging for her forgiveness from sins she doesn’t fully understand but despises just the same.

  Like always, I tell her the truth. What I can. Whispering in her ear how much I love her. That I’ve been such a fucking fool to jeopardize what we have. That I will do fucking anything to make her come back to me. That she’s my fucking world, and I don’t want a damn thing but her.

  “I know.” Her short fingernails scrape over my scalp as she draws my head down again, tucking me deeper into the crook of her neck. “I don’t either.”

  I take my time with her. Savoring each second she gives me. So fucking fearful she’ll regret, in the light of day, of having my cock inside her. Of allowing her heart to welcome me back into her arms if not her life.

  She’s so close. Hips meeting mine with each thrust. Heavy breaths blowing against my hair. Fingertips clutching my back muscles, flexing and tightening as much as my balls.

  “I still love you Luciano. I never stopped loving you.”

  Fuck me. “I love you too.”

  I push out the words through gritted teeth, exploding inside her like a fucking volcano. All the pent up frustration and fear and shame releasing with her forgiveness of me. My hips bucking over and over against her, unable to stop even in my exhaustion. I need her to be mine again.

  She clutches me tight. Never loosening even as my body slows and droops over hers. My dick softening inside her yet unwilling to release her completely.

  Tangled together, I shift my weight and lay next to her. My leg and arm slung across her delicate body. Relishing her sweet scent and silky skin. Peace filling my soul from her relaxed expression. “Are you okay?”

  “I guess I shouldn’t be after everything that’s happened, but somehow I am.”

  “Me too angel.”

  So fucking adorable when her nose scrunches up and a light blush glows on her cheeks. “I do need to go to the bathroom though.”

  “Okay.”

  Loathing the loss of her touch, I roll off the mattress and lift her up, tucking her into my side. She takes tentative steps, leaning against me until we reach the tile and she releases my arm. “You sure you’re all right?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  A bit more color brightens her face when she steps back in the bedroom after a few minutes. More stability to her gait that releases some of the concern straining in my muscles. But my reprieve shatters when she heads to the chair instead of the bed. Wobbling as she tries to pull on her dress. I jet over to steady her and yank the fabric out of her shaking hands. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  A sigh blows through her swollen lips. Aware I mean so much more than hiding her gorgeous body from me.

  "That doesn’t fix things.” She nods to the bed. Sheets still crumpled from our love making. The musky scent of our arousal floating through the air. “As much as I love you, I can’t be with you. I know you’ll never be honest with me. You’ll never really share yourself with me. It’s too much‒.”

  Fuck this. Fighting through the damage to my jacked up leg and mutilated heart, I scoop her up, surprise granting me a few seconds before she tries to twist out of my arms. She wants to know so god damn bad, then I’m going to fucking tell her. Then she’ll at least know what she’s punishing me for. Understand the reasons we're both ending up alone.

  “Put me down!”

  I toss her on the bed. She thrashes back and forth, her hands shoving against me. Unable to do a damn thing with my huge fingers clamped around her shoulder and thigh. “Stop fucking fighting me. You know I’ll never hurt you. I just want to talk to you.”

  Rage seethes her muscles from me overpowering her. I push her onto her side so fast she can’t do anything but fucking roll over. I jerk her back against my chest, yanking the covers over us. An elbow to my ribs that does nothing but fucking turn me on.

  “Damn it, Molly. Lay still, or I’ll spank your pretty little ass too.”

  A huge huff rustles the sheets but at least she settles down. Anger stiffening her defiant posture. Crossing her arms over her chest in righteous indignation.

  Somehow it’s easier to talk to her this way. Not see her beautiful face crumble because of me. Not watch her repulsion when I confess my sins. Admit all the crimes I’m guilty of. Seeking forgiveness I’m not used to.

  Trying to find my lame ass courage, I blow out a deep breath making goosebumps sprinkle across her shoulder. That would look so fucking gorgeous with my brand on her ivory skin. "I'm a mobster. I do illegal shit. Gambling. Drugs. Insurance fraud. The feds are breathing down my neck and they could show up any minute with a warrant to throw my ass in jail. Is that what you want to hear? Is that what you really want to know?"

  This time a small gasp rattles in her chest. Uncertain if it’s from my admission or my antagonizing tone. But fury battles with fear that I’ve already lost her, and I can’t hold back my ferocity.

  "I kill people. With these hands." I release her waist and hold one out to her, still balled into a fist, before I unclench my fingers and point at the night stand. "With that gun."

  This time I rest my hand on my own thigh, clutching my sweat pants. Letting her choose if she wants to stay. If she wants to listen to the rest of the truth.

  "Or my men do it from my orders. They’re the ones who attacked Hunter. Because I told them to."

  She flinches but doesn’t move. Her body remains stiff and unyielding. "Th-that really was you."

  "Damn fucking straight it was. He fucking hurt you. So if you think for even a second that I'm sorry, I'm not. I killed that bastard, and I’m glad he’s dead."

  Heavy silence hangs between us. Only the pounding of my own racing heart sounds in my ears. She’s too damn quiet. Terrifying me that she’s already gone. So I offer the only profession I have left to give. The only offense I genuinely feel guilty about. “Sean was right about everything he told you. I bought your Dad's loans and threatened your landlord so you'd have to stay here. I was so fucking crazy in love with you and didn't want to lose you. It seemed so perfect. I thought you could be a mother for Eli.”

  My heart slams against my rib cage when she looks back at me. Her expression finally softening at the mention of little man's name. At least she believes in my love for my brother. "And a wife for you?"

  I can't hold back and slide my finger around hers, grasping the smooth skin where her ring used to be. Where it
fucking should be. "Yeah, angel. That's all I've ever wanted. But I wasn't sure if you'd want me."

  “Why wouldn’t I want you? You’re an amazing man. It would have happened.” A bittersweet laugh brings a half smile to her beautiful face. “Maybe not quite as fast as it did. But it would have. I know it.”

  “I want to believe that.” She'll hate me even more than she does now if she knows the truth. "But, I..."

  Rarely am I at a loss for words. Only she can humble me into a muted submission.

  "Just be honest, Luciano. Please. Tell me everything." Her impassioned gaze meets mine. More confident than I am that we can survive this. "Tell me the truth."

  So fucking innocent. She has no idea the real me. The man she'll loathe. Might as well get it over with. She's going to leave anyway. “About a year before I hired you, Ty and I were out partying, and we brought home a woman to fuck. I had my dick inside her, and I was such a fucking selfish bastard, I didn't even know her god damn name."

  My stomach rolls from the memory. Not that I'm much better now. But at least I finally realize there's someone I love more than myself. That I could actually accept her love in return. "But, then she went limp. Curled against my shoulder. I was so fucking pissed. I thought..."

  “What?”

  Goosebumps lift on my skin from the fear in her whisper. Matching the terror racing through me that these are our last moments together. That she’ll climb out of this bed and walk out that door forever. Killing me. And Eli. "I thought she was hugging me. It was supposed to be a one night stand. I didn't want a relationship or her emotion. So I jerked away, and she fell.”

  An involuntary gag engulfs my throat. Almost like I can still fucking hear the sickening sound of her body crashing against the concrete. Smell the bitter concoction of sweat and sex and her coconut lime perfume twisted in a kaleidoscope of blood and cum. I can barely whisper. “She slammed her face against the floor and broke her nose. Except that as horrible as it was, it didn't even matter because she was already dead.”