Hit and Run: A Mafia Hitman Romance

by Natasha Tanner

  “Yeah, well, when you have to be out in it every day the novelty wears off.”

  His words sting me. “Right, because I’m not out in it all day every day. I’m barely in it at all. Is that what you mean?”

  Cain looks regretful. “Can we just not fight for one single night?”

  “Fine,” I acquiesce.

  I try my best not to gaze into the holiday windows we’re rocketing past. I don’t want to seem like some kind of tourist in my own city. “Where are we going, exactly?”

  “Almost there,” Cain says. He reaches down and takes my hand to pull me along through the crowds. I surprise myself by not jerking way. I like how I feel when he’s touching me. There’s warmth and energy connecting the two of us. It’s like my hand has always been meant for this moment.

  We stop outside of an ancient-looking building and Cain opens the doors. The smells of paper, books, dust, and ink fill my nostrils. “After you,” Cain says.

  I step inside, knowing that Ed isn’t too far behind us. Then I realize that I’m standing in a library. The most magnificent library I’ve ever seen or dreamed of.

  Students studying for exams populate the long, wooden tables. Green banker’s lamps cast tiny pools of illumination on the gleaming surfaces. There are four stories of books above me. “Where are we?” I whisper to Cain.

  “This is the science library for the state university,” he whispers back.

  I look at him, confused. “Why are we here?”

  “Because this is where you’re going to school after we get married,” he says.

  I clap my hand over my mouth to keep a guffaw from escaping it. “Right, okay. Very funny.”

  Cain holds out his hand and I take it again. He leads me into a small room with a door and a table. He shuts the door behind us.

  “I’m not kidding,” he says at a normal volume. “I already started filling out your application for you.” He reaches into his coat and pulls out a thick printout folded lengthwise. “Here.”

  I open the stack and gaze at it, my mouth agape. “You’re serious right now.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t fill out more. I had to stop after your first and last name.” He shrugs. “I still don’t even know your favorite flower, so I guess it was a little premature of me to think I knew your social security number.”

  I laugh, still in shock. “You’re dead serious. You really want me to apply for college?”

  He nods. “I don’t see why not. Your dad said I need to take care of you after we get married, and, well. I’d like you to be happy.” He grins. “You know, if you have space between hating my guts and us arguing all the time.”

  I take a step closer to him, feeling like my heart is about to beat out of my chest. “You did this for me?”

  He nods.

  I stand up on my tiptoes and kiss him lightly on the cheek. My lips burn as they part against his skin. I linger too long.

  Cain grabs my chin and directs my mouth toward his.

  I don’t object.

  At all.

  I drop the papers on the ground and wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him ferociously. Every bit of sexual tension of the last two weeks comes pouring out between us. This is what we’ve been fighting over. We’ve been trying to tear each other apart when really? We just wanted to tear each other’s clothes off of our bodies.

  Cain’s mouth is hot and wet, and I feel an urging between my thighs that I’m well acquainted with. But this one is different. It’s like there’s a fire raging and only one thing can possibly put it out. I need Cain. I want him.

  And he clearly wants to devour me.

  I take off my coat, my mouth never leaving Cain’s, and his hands are up underneath my t-shirt in a second, his fingers pawing for my bra hooks. I let him do what he wants. Because I want this. All of this.

  He lifts off my shirt and my bra slides off my arms and onto the floor. “God, you’re perfect,” Cain whispers to me, his hands lifting up my breasts. I unbutton my jeans and slide them down my thighs.

  “You have too many clothes on,” I say to him, pulling off his coat.

  Between both of us working at buttons and zippers and fabric, he’s standing there in his boxer briefs in under a minute. I stare at his tattoos and try to avoid his gaze. He’s drinking me in. I’ve never felt this vulnerable or this alive before.

  In a second, he has me up against the wall.

  “Someone could walk in,” I breathe to him as he licks my nipples in delicate circles.

  “Let them,” Cain says harshly against my skin. His fingers find my wet slit and he slips one inside of me. I gasp. He leaves my breasts and his mouth retraces the places where his fingers were playing just a minute ago.

  I’m trying to keep breathing, but every lick and swirl from Cain is threatening to knock me off my feet.

  “I’m about to-“ I gasp, and Cain stops.

  “Not yet,” he says. He pulls down his boxers and he reveals himself to me. All of himself. I haven’t seen a ton of cocks in my life, but this one tops the list. It’s enormous.

  All I want is him. Now. Inside of me.

  He knows what I want. He slips into me and I’m wet and ready for it. I still gasp at his size, his length, his sheer power as he lifts me up against the wall, our bodies crashing together in violent waves of ecstasy.

  “You’re going to be my wife,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re mine. You’re going to have this every single night of our lives together. Is that what you want?”

  “Yes,” I gasp back to him. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  “Good,” he says, gliding in and out of me.

  That’s the thought I carry with me as I fall over the edge with Cain. It’s like falling into blissful oblivion.

  CHAPTER TEN

  CAIN

  The church bells are ringing out across the New York countryside as I ride my motorcycle up to the cathedral out here, in the middle of fucking nowhere.

  I look up at the sky. It seems like it’s not going to hold for another minute. I slip off my helmet and strap it to the back rack. I smooth my hair out and pick a piece of lint off of my tuxedo. It’s unorthodox, I know, to be riding a motorcycle in a tuxedo in the bitter cold of a New York November.

  What can I say? That’s just the kind of asshole I am.

  I step inside the stone building. It smells like incense and the cologne of rich people. I see Elizabeth’s dad and he waves at me merrily. He walks over and slaps my arm. “You’re a good kid, Cain. I think you’ll be good for Elizabeth.”

  I raise my eyebrows, trying to keep myself from saying that he’s told me that already. “I hope so.”

  He stares out distantly. “She never was the same after her mother left, you know? But she’s a good girl, deep down. Fiery. Has a temper. But just let her scream it out and you’ll be just fine.” He pats my arm again. “See you inside.”

  I bite my tongue for the millionth time in front of him. Yeah, my family threatened his life, but still. I can’t believe he didn’t put up a bit more of a fight on behalf of his daughter. I wouldn’t let my daughter marry someone like me, even if someone had a gun to my temple.

  A woman with a blonde bob comes rushing over to me. Her hair is a brassy orange; she’s tried and failed miserably to dye her natural mahogany shade a platinum yellow. “You,” she says, sticking a finger into my chest. “Are late.” She looks down at her clipboard. “Get out into the main hall, alright?”

  “Aren’t I supposed to wait for the music?”

  She puts her hand to her ear. There’s an earpiece in there. “The family is insisting we hurry up.” She shoves me towards the doors manned by two young guys with dark, slicked back hair. Elizabeth’s cousins, probably. “Go, now.”

  I stumble through the doorway and walk down the aisle. The organist sees me and cues up a rapid-paced march for me to walk to. The place is packed to the gills with happily chattering people. Well, most of them are doing that Italian yelling thing we’re so good at, and no
body’s really paying attention. It’s just as well. This whole thing is basically a farce anyway.

  I take my place next to my two brothers. They smile at me. My oldest brother, Donny, leans in closer. “I wish my wife looked like yours. Damn.” My youngest brother, Danny, laughs.

  I turn my head to the side and smile, letting the words slip through my grimacing mouth. “You fucking talk about her like that again, and I’ll punch you so hard you don’t remember your own name.”

  The monster inside of me growls out of a protective instinct for the woman I’ve only fucked one time. The library was it. One and done.

  The sex tonight will be even better.

  My brother stiffens next to me and my youngest brother stops laughing.

  The organ music changes and the bridesmaids march down the aisle. Maria winks at me as she takes her place. She’s wearing this godawful shade of purple in some shiny fabric that isn’t the least bit flattering to her figure. She exhales dramatically as she steps up to the altar. Two more women, much skinnier, fall into place behind her. They sort of look like Lizzy; they must be cousins, too.

  The bridal march begins and everyone manages to pause their conversations long enough to stand up for the bride’s entrance. I feel a surge of nerves and adrenaline. Are my palms actually sweating?

  Fuck. They are.

  Lizzy steps through the doors and the sight of her takes my breath away. Literally. I gasp.

  Her dark hair falls in soft ringlets around her shoulders, and her strapless dress shows off the upper line of her cleavage perfectly. The bottom half of her dress is some kind of puffy monstrosity. I can’t help but picture lifting up the fabric and fucking her from behind while she calls out my name.

  She scowls at me as she gets closer, her olive skin wrinkling around her rosebud lips. Her perfect, dick-sucking lips. I hope I get to take at least one ride on those before this relationship goes tits up. Because, yeah. I know we connected in the library. But she’s been turning a cold shoulder to me in the two weeks since.

  Lizzy steps up to the altar and angrily hands her enormous bouquet of white roses to her sister.

  “Hey,” I whisper to her. “I can’t wait to fuck you tonight.”

  Lizzy stomps her foot on top of mine with surprising force. The act is hidden by the voluminous fabric of her dress.

  The priest asks us to kneel and says a prayer. “I should have known,” I mutter to Lizzy, whose eyes are determinedly open.

  “What?” she hisses back.

  “That you would be good at kneeling. This is like a preview for both of us in a couple of hours.”

  “The only kneeling I’m going to be doing is in church next Sunday,” she retorts.

  We stand up and the priest goes through the motions of the ceremony. All I can think about is Lizzy. I keep glancing at her. She’s so short that I’m getting a wonderful, first-row-seat-view of the top of her tits. She’s also so angry she’s breathing heavily and the soft flesh keeps rising and falling.

  It’s not the only thing rising right now, either.

  “Do you, Elizabeth Venetia Romano, take Cain Austin Maggiano to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the priest asks.

  She bites her lip and finally looks me in the eye. “I do.”

  “And do you, Cain Austin Maggiano take Elizabeth Venetia Romano as your lawfully wedded wife?”

  “Of course I do,” I say with a grin.

  Elizabeth is unmoved. She doesn’t even roll her eyes.

  She also doesn’t even let me take her hand as we walk down the aisle and out of the church, everyone clapping for us.

  We step out of the cathedral into the wind. It’s still not raining, but the clouds are so thick it feels like the middle of the night.

  Elizabeth stands there, the wind blowing her hair. She looks even more beautiful than she did up on that altar.

  “You’re mad at me, but I can’t figure out why,” I say.

  She shakes her head. “Just because we fucked doesn’t mean I want to marry you.”

  “Well, you just did.”

  “Just did what?”

  “You married me. You did it anyway.”

  She softens a little at these words. “I did it for my father.”

  “But you still did it. Doesn’t matter the reason why, does it?”

  “I guess not.” She pauses. “I can’t believe your middle name is Austin.”

  I shrug. “My parents named all of us after the city they conceived us in.” I laugh. “My younger brother got saddled with Schenectady as his middle name.”

  Against her will, Elizabeth smiles. “That really sucks.”

  I tilt my head and smile. “You want to go for a ride?” I ask her.

  She looks at me. “What?”

  I point to my bike. “We could take that back into the city, be at the reception hall in time for our first dance. I just figured you could probably use a break before you go mingle with all those people.”

  She looks at me, suspicious. “Is this some type of ploy to get in my pants?”

  “How would that be a ploy?”

  “Because you’re being nice to me. And you must know how I feel about motorcycles.” She bites her lip. “Nothing turns me on more than the sound of one of them firing up.”

  I shake my head. “How would I know that? You haven’t told me anything about you. Or are you not remembering our last two dates? The menu talked more than you did.”

  She stomps her foot. “Are we going or not?”

  “If you can fit that dress onto my bike, we are.”

  It takes a lot of fiddling, but we get her on the back of my bike, the soft cloud of her dress billowing up to her chin. I hand her my leather biker’s jacket that I keep stashed in the rear compartment.

  “You going to take off that veil so I can put this helmet on?” I ask her.

  She tears it off her head and lets it blow away in the wind. I glance after it, shocked.

  “Aw, pumpkin, did you want me to save that for our daughter?” she asks sarcastically.

  I laugh. “You are something else, you know that?”

  She actually lets slip another small, wry smile. “Get on the bike, Cain.”

  I do, and we ride through the New York countryside, the bitter wind blasting us both.

  Lizzy lets out a scream at one point that seems like a mixture of pure adrenaline and anger. It’s sexy as fuck and I’m thinking about her screaming like that when we fuck again.

  Which we will. She’ll come around. Nobody can resist me.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ELIZABETH

  We pull up to the restaurant an hour later, most of my anger diminished by the pure thrill of the motorcycle ride. I hand Cain the helmet.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I say.

  He’s staring at me. He likes staring at me; I think it might be his favorite hobby in the entire world. It’s annoying.

  And sexy. Really, really sexy.

  But I can’t let him know that. He already has too much of the upper hand. It’s making me crazy. I have commitment issues. And it wasn’t the fuck that scared me. It was him printing out that application for college. Him showing me the library.

  That was the most intimate thing a man has ever done for me, and the sex had nothing to do with it.

  So I got scared. Being stubborn is how I respond to fear. “What are you staring at?”

  “Your hair,” he says.

  My hand flies up to it. “Oh, God. I bet it’s destroyed.”

  Cain laughs. “Actually, that’s not why I was staring at it. It looks like sex hair.” He grins, his blue eyes flashing at me. “I like that.”

  I groan. “Now everyone’s going to think we had sex.”

  He wiggles his eyebrows. “We could, and then people wouldn’t have to be wrong.”

  I roll my eyes and get back to pulling down the crooked tulle of my dress. I hold out my hand. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Cain looks surprised but takes my hand an
yway. We step into the packed-to-the-gills restaurant to thunderous applause. Cain holds my hand up in complete triumph like the referee calling a boxing match.

  I paste on a smile for everyone. It’ll be easier to pretend I’m happy than to look horribly upset this whole time and have everyone ask me annoying questions. Soon, Cain and I are ripped apart by every Italian-American woman in New York wanting to kiss my cheek and wish me good luck.

  The next hour is a blur of black clothes and lipstick kisses on my cheek and people wanting to pin money to my dress.

  My dad finally taps on a borrowed glass of champagne and everyone goes quiet.

  “I just wanted to thank you all for being here, on my beautiful Lizzy’s special day.” He lowers his eyes and it almost looks like he’s crying. Everyone murmurs amongst themselves. They can see it too. “I only wish her mother could have been here.” His voice breaks and my stomach turns over, my heart breaking for my father. “But I’m glad for the family and friends we have here instead.” He pulls up Mr. Maggiano and wraps his arm around his shoulders. “Here’s to an end to all the fighting!”

  He raises his glass in a toast and everyone clinks theirs against their neighbor’s.

  I finally slip away to the hostess podium, which is shielded by a half-wall. This is the only place I have a chance of getting a moment to myself. I bury my head in my hands. I don’t even know what to feel right now. I’m sad and confused and a small part of me is only thinking about how Cain looked, shirtless and sweating, in the library after he fucked the life out of me.

  Okay, more than a small part of me is thinking about that.

  I’m only human, after all.

  “Hey there, wife.”

  I look up at Cain and his cocky face makes me forget the feelings I was just having.

  “Contemplating sex positions?”

  “Contemplating ways to kill you,” I retort. It’s unnerving how he read my mind, though. Because, yeah. I had been wondering whether being on top or underneath Cain would be better.

  He laughs. “We didn’t sign a pre-nup, and I am a very rich man.”

  “Your daddy is rich, you mean.”

  “Same difference,” he replies. “Want to get out of-“