Dirty Dom: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance)

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Dirty Dom: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) Page 1

by Willow Winters




  Dirty Dom

  Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance)

  Willow Winters

  Contents

  Copyrights

  Title

  Blurb

  Prologue

  1. Dom

  2. Becca

  3. Dom

  4. Becca

  5. Dom

  6. Becca

  7. Dom

  8. Becca

  9. Dom

  10. Becca

  11. Dom

  12. Dom

  13. Dom

  14. Becca

  15. Becca

  16. Dom

  17. Becca

  18. Becca

  19. Dom

  20. Dom

  21. Becca

  22. Dom

  23. Becca

  24. Dom

  25. Becca

  Epilogue

  Thank you

  The Naughty List

  Copyrights

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations within critical reviews and otherwise as permitted by copyright law.

  NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real life is purely coincidental. All characters in this story are 18 or older.

  Copyright © 2016, Willow Winters Publishing. All rights reserved.

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  Onto the bad boys... Enjoy!

  Title

  Dirty Dom

  A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

  (Valetti Crime Family)

  Winter Willows

  Blurb

  Dominic Valetti is only interested in two things: getting paid and getting laid.

  He’s a bookie for the Valetti crime family, and he knows his sh*t. Dom’s busy doing business, no time to dabble in social niceties. The women that chase after him wanting more than a dirty, hard f*ck are only gonna get their hearts broken.

  That is, until Becca stumbles into his office to pay off her ex’s debt. A hot brunette who’s just as guarded as he is and has a body made for sin… and for him.

  They’re not meant to be together. A woman like her shouldn’t be with a man like him. He’s mobbed up; she’s a good girl who deserves better.

  When they push their boundaries and cave to temptation, they both forget about the danger. And that’s a mistake a man like Dom can’t afford. Will Dirty Dom risk it all to keep Becca safe, or will he live up to his name?

  This is a standalone, full-length mafia romance with a filthy-mouthed, possessive bad boy. Guaranteed HEA.

  Prologue

  Dom

  DomBecca

  I crack my knuckles and stretch out my arms while looking out over the football stadium from my suite. I fucking love that this is my office. But then again, when you do what I do, your “office” can be anywhere. I snatch my scotch from the bar and tell Johnny to grab our lunch. Taking a seat on the sectional, I grab my phone to look at my schedule. My first drop off should be here soon.

  I’m so fucking nervous. I click my phone on and see I have fifteen minutes to find the bookie’s suite. I grab my purse tighter, holding the Coach Hobo closer to my side. I’ve got 12k in cash under a scarf and the idea that I’m going to be mugged and then killed by the bookie is making my blood rush with adrenaline and anxiety. I can’t believe Rick would put me in this position. Shit. I’m such a bitch. I swallow the lump in my throat and square my shoulders to keep the tears pricking the back of my eyes from surfacing. Now is not the time to think about Rick. And it’s not like he asked me to do this. His problems keep coming after me and I wanted to cover my bases.

  The knock at the door seems hesitant and that makes a deep, rough chuckle rumble in my hard chest. Whoever’s behind it is scared and I live for that fear. They’re right to be scared. I didn’t get where I am today by being kind and understanding. Fuck that. I’m a ruthless prick and I know it. My chest hollows for a fraction of a second, but I shut that shit down ASAP. I’m a tough fucker and I’m not going to let some pussy emotions make me weak. Some days I wish I didn’t have to be such a cruel asshole. I don’t like fucking guys up, breaking their legs and hands or whatever body part they pick – if I let them choose. But they know what they’re signing up for when they do business with me. Damn shame they don’t have a doctorate degree in statistics from Stanford, like me. A devilish grin pulls at my lips. If you’re gonna be making bets with me, you better be ready to pay up.

  I wipe the cold sweat from my hands and onto my skirt, ball my small fist tighter and knock on the door a little harder. I wonder if the people walking by know why I’m here. I swallow thickly, feeling like a dirty criminal. My eyes dart to an older woman with kind eyes and grey-speckled hair pushing a caterer’s cart. I’m sure she knows. I’m sure everyone who looks at me knows I’m up to no good.

  My eyes glance from left to right as I wait impatiently. Sarah’s waiting outside and I have to pick up my son from soccer practice soon. I lick my lower lip as the nerves creep up. I’ll just pretend this isn’t real. Just hand them the money and walk away. Back to real life. Back to my assistant and move on with my normal, non-threatening, every day life.

  I take my time getting to the door. No matter how much money they owe me, or how much they’ve won, they need to know that I do everything whenever the fuck I please. If they have to wait, they have to wait. But I sure as shit don’t wait for them. I open the door and my cold, hard heart pumps with hot blood and desire.

  A petite woman in fuck-me pink heels and a grey dress that clings to her curves and ends just above her knees is staring back at me with wide, frightened hazel eyes. Her breasts rise and fall, peeking out of the modest neckline. Her black cardigan is covering up too much of her chest and I barely resist the urge to push it off her shoulders. My eyes travel along her body in obvious appreciation before stopping at her purse. She’s clinging to it like it’s her life line. My jaw ticks, what’s a woman like her doing making bets with a guy like me? Johnny handles most of that shit now. We aren’t supposed to take bets from women. I don’t like it. I’m definitely going to have to ask him about her.

  The door opens and I nervously peek up at the gorgeous man looking down at me through my dark, thick lashes. The lines around his eyes means he’s every bit the man he looks, but his devilish white-toothed grin gives him a boyish charm meant to fool women like me. He’s fucking hot in a black three-piece suit that’s obviously tailored to fit his large chiseled frame perfectly. With that crisp, white button-down shirt and simple black tie you’d think he was a youn
g CEO, but his muscular body, piercing blue eyes and messy brunet hair that’s long enough to grab, makes him a sex god. Lust and power radiate from his broad chest as his eyes travel down my body. He looks like a man who knows how to destroy you.

  A wave of desire shoots through me when my eyes meet his heated stare. My breathing hitches and I swallow down my distress with my treacherous body. I’ll just give him the money Rick owed him and get the fuck out of here. At the reminder of why I’m standing in his doorway, I push my purse towards him.

  I grin at her obvious nervousness and cock a brow, “Purses aren’t my style, doll.” Pulling the door open wider, I step aside, just enough for her to get through. Her soft body gently brushes mine as she walks through the small opening I gave her. The subtle touch sends a throbbing need to my dick and I feel it harden, pushing against my zipper. She hustles a little quicker when I lean closer to her. Her hips sway and I stifle a groan when I see that dress clinging to her lush ass. Fuck, I want that ass. I never mix business with pleasure, but there’s an exception to every rule. Something about her just pulls me in. Something about the way she’s carrying herself. Like she needs me, or I need her. My dick jumps as she turns around to fully face me. Fuck, at least one part of me desperately wants her attention.

  His body touching mine makes every nerve ending in my core ignite; I nervously squeeze the strap of my purse. I just want to get the hell out of here. My stupid heart is longing for comfort. My trembling body is aching with need. What the hell is wrong with me? It’s only been three days; I should have more respect for Rick than this. I will the tears to go away. I just want to be held. But I know better. This man staring back at me, he isn’t a man who will hold me. I take in a gasp of air and turn around to face the man my husband owed money to while digging in my purse to gather the bundles of cash.

  “Is it all there?” I have no fucking clue who she is or what she’s supposed to be giving me. Johnny has the list, but he’s not back yet with our lunch. It’s a rarity that I even have to speak during drops. I just like to watch. And when it comes to people not paying up, it’s best that I’m here.

  “I’m sorry it’s late.” His rough fingers brush mine as I hold out the thick bundle of hundreds. His touch sends a shot of lust to my heated core and I close my eyes, denying the desperate need burning inside me. It would feel so good to let him take me the way a man should. I haven’t been touched in months. I haven’t felt desire in nearly a year, and I know for a fact, I’ve never felt such a strong pull to a man, never wanted to give myself to someone like I do him.

  “What about the interest?” Her eyes widen with fear and her breath stalls as her plump lips part. If it’s late, then she should know to pay that extra 5% per day. Compounded. Johnny should’ve told her all that shit. But judging by her silence and that scared look on her face, she doesn’t have a clue. A grin pulls to my lips, but I stifle it. I want her to think I’m mad. I want her to feel like she owes me. I don’t want her money though. She can pay me in a way I’ve never been paid before. I don’t accept ass as payment, but for her, fuck yeah I’ll take it.

  The man on the phone said not to worry about being late. He said he was sorry for my loss and that he understood. I feel my breath coming up short as a lump grows in my throat. Fuck! What the hell am I going to do? Fucking Rick, leaving me with this shit to deal with. I wish I could just fucking hide as these damn tears start pricking my eyes. My hands start to shake as I realize I’m trapped in the bookie’s suite and I owe him money.

  “Aw, doll. Don’t cry. We can work something out.” Her bottom lip’s trembling and her gorgeous hazel eyes are brimming with tears. I feel like a fucking asshole for taking advantage of the situation. But then again, what the fuck did she expect? First, she made a bet with a bookie – not fucking smart on her part. Then she comes late to hand over the dough. She had to know there’d be consequences. She parts her lips to respond, but she’s too shaken up. My heart clenches looking at her small frame trembling with worry.

  I’ll make it good for her. She looks like a girl I could keep. My brows furrow as I reach out to brush her cheek with my hand. I’m not sure where that thought came from, but the more I think about it, the more I like it. She closes her eyes and leans into my touch as I wipe away the tear trailing down her sun-kissed skin. As I reach her lips, I part them with my thumb.

  I hate the bastard tears that’ve escaped. I feel too raw and vulnerable. I can’t help but to love the warmth of his skin. How long has it been since someone’s touched me with kindness and looked at me with desire? I need this. I need to be held. If only for a little while. His thumb brushes my bottom lip and I instantly part them for him. He can hold me for a moment. I can pretend it’s more. I can pretend he really wants me. I can pretend he loves me.

  Fuck, she’s so damn perfect. Leaning into me like she really wants me. Like she needs me. She radiates sweet innocence, but there’s something more about her, something I can’t quite put my finger on. A sting of loneliness pulses through me. I was playing with the thought of having her on her knees in exchange for payment. But I want more. I want her to fucking love what I do to her. I’ll make her want me when it’s over. A coldness sweeps through me. They always want me after, but it’s for the money, not for me. A sad smirk plays at my lips as she licks my thumb and massages the underside with her hot tongue. Fuck, I’ll take it. If she only wants me for my money, I’ll take it. I feel a burning need to keep her.

  My brows furrow in anger at my thoughts. My fucking heart is turning me into a little bitch. “Strip. Now.” My words come out hard, making her take a hesitant step back as I pull my thumb from her lips. I instantly regret being the fucking asshole I am. But I can’t take it back. I turn my back to her, to lock the door. I slip the gun out from under my belt and easily hide it from her sight to set it down on the table by the door. God knows what she’d think if she got a look at it.

  My body flinches as the hard sound of the door locking echoes through the room. He moves with power and confidence, his gaze like one of a predator. I swallow my pride and slip off my cardigan. I don’t need pride and self respect right now; I need a man to desire me. The thought and his hungry eyes on me has me peeling off my dress without hesitation. I don’t care if this is a payment or if he’s just using the interest as an excuse to fuck me; I want this. Or at least I want him.

  As I reach behind my back to unhook my bra, he reaches for me, wrapping his strong arms around my body and molding his hard chest to mine. His lips crush against mine and I part them for his hot tongue to taste me. He kisses me with passion and need. His hard dick pushes into my stomach. The feeling makes my pussy heat and clench. Yes. The tears stop, but my chest is still in agony. Make it go away, please. Take my pain away.

  She fucking needs me; I can feel it. And I sure as fuck need her. I don’t even hesitate to unleash my rigid cock from my pants. I rip her skimpy lace panties from her body, easily shredding them and tossing them to the floor. I squeeze her ass in my hands, pulling her body to mine. I slam her against the wall, keeping my lips to hers the entire time. My chest pounds; hot blood pumps through me. I need to be inside her. I line my dick up with her hot entrance, rubbing my head through her slick pussy lips.

  Fuck she wants me just as I want her. I slam in to the hilt. She breaks our kiss to lean her head back, banging it against the wall and screaming out with pleasure as I fuck recklessly into her tight pussy. My right hand roams her body while my left keeps her pinned to the wall. Her arousal leaks from her hot pussy and down to my thighs.

  My legs wrap tightly around him as he ruts into me with a primitive need. My body knows I need his touch, my heart needs his lips and it clenches as he gives them to me. He frantically kisses me as he pounds into me with desperation. The position he has me in ensures he pushes against my throbbing clit with each thrust. I feel my body building, every nerve ending on high alert.

  His lips trail my neck and he leaves small bites and open-mouthed kisses along my
neck, my shoulder, my collar bone. He licks the dip in my throat before trailing his hot tongue up my neck. I moan my pleasure in the cold air above us. My heart stills and my body trembles as a numbness and heat attack my body at once. “Yes!” I scream out as my pussy pulses around his thick cock. My body convulses against his as heat and pleasure race through my heavy limbs. I feel waves of hot cum soak my aching pussy. My eyes widen as the aftershocks settle. What the fuck did I just do? I need to get out of here.

  She’s pushing against me like she can’t wait to leave and that makes my damn heart drop in my chest. Fine. It’s fine. It’s not like this was anything more than a payment. I say that over and over while I turn my back on her to grab my pants. I walk across the suite to grab a tissue for her to clean up from the desk, but when I face her, she’s already dressed. My blood runs cold with her dismissal of me and what we just shared. It wasn’t just some fuck. There was something there. I’ve never felt like that before. I never felt THAT before. Whatever it is. I fucking want it. And I’m a man who gets what he wants. My conviction settles as I stride back to her. I’ll have her again. I’ll make sure it happens.

  What the fuck have I done? I need to go. I have to go to my son. I want nothing more than for this man to hold me, but I know that’s not going to happen. I’m so fucking stupid. I don’t even know his name. These feelings in my fucked up chest aren’t the same for him. This was just a payment. The thought makes my heart stop and my chest pain, but I brush it aside. I refuse to be any weaker in front of him. I need to be strong for just a moment longer. I try to fix my hair as best as I can without a mirror. I straighten my back and grab my purse as he walks back over to me.

 

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