Gangster Moll (Gun Moll Book 2)

by Bethany-Kris

  “I—”

  “I might not be able to do much for Ma because she’s stubborn as fuck, but my wife. My wife is a whole other story.”

  James sat up straighter in the booth, gaze flicking between Mac and Enric behind him. “Come on now, Mac. There’s no need for you to be going and making a scene in this establishment because of a woman. Besides, you know better—this isn’t your territory.”

  Was that supposed to matter?

  It didn’t.

  “You’re sorely mistaken if you think I give a single fuck. One last warning before I put you in the ground like the dog that you are. Stay the hell away from me and mine. I’ve got nothing for you—I never have, and I never will.”

  James stood, his mouth opening to say something as his hand rested on the wooden top of the booth’s table.

  Mac didn’t give him the chance to speak a single word before his pocket knife was in his hand, the blade flicked out and gleaming, and then it was brought down too fast for James to react. The blade drove into the back of James’ palm with enough force to cut straight through and stick into the table. Blood welled instantly, spilling from the wound to the table.

  James shouted, his immediate reaction being to pull his hand away from the cause of the pain, but that was impossible to do with it being embedded into the wood now.

  Mac pulled his gun out of the holster at his back, flicked off the safety, and cocked the hammer. He pressed the barrel of the gun straight at James’ forehead.

  “Breathe in my wife’s direction again,” Mac said with a cold smile, “and I’ll have your skull boiled and bleached so I can use it as an ashtray.”

  James didn’t say a word.

  Mac figured that was to his father’s best benefit at the moment.

  When Mac walked out of the club without his favorite knife in hand, he heard the first thwack of the bat being brought down against bone.

  Screams echoed. Female. A shout from a man. Glass shattered.

  Another plea from James Sr.

  Mercy, he wanted.

  No other sound had ever been more satisfying.

  Mac rolled up the sleeves of his bloodstained dress shirt as he rested back against a purple velvet couch accompanied on both sides by black leather chairs. He took a look around The Dollhouse, noting the changes that had been made since the last time he’d checked up on his wife’s progress.

  It was almost ready for opening night.

  Another week, Melina had said when he asked that morning.

  He was proud of his wife.

  The place looked hauntingly beautiful with an old world feel, dark colors, and a sexy appeal. The place was going to do just fine.

  Mac, on the other hand, was still trying to swallow the rage on the back of his tongue. It’d been hours since he’d sent his father a very up close and personal message. He’d gone back to his warehouse office, taken a few swings at a punching bag, shouted at Enric for a while, and then he’d gone home.

  He thought that would be enough to get rid of any lingering anger.

  It hadn’t been.

  It didn’t help that his wife wasn’t home.

  Melina was pulling late nights at The Dollhouse to get it finished on time for opening night. She had women ready to work, girls she trusted and knew. A bartender ready for the bar, and a backup, just in case.

  It might have been that Melina was so busy she forgot to mention James’ show. Or maybe she hadn’t thought much of it at all.

  Mac didn’t know.

  It still irritated him to no end.

  Melina stood across the room from Mac, waving at something at the back of the bar. She hadn’t noticed he’d come in, but he was perfectly fine with that.

  For now.

  The woman at her side nodded, agreeing to whatever Melina was saying.

  With a final wave, Melina turned away and was off, moving toward the back hallway that Mac knew belonged to her new office space and a few private rooms. Mac was off the couch and following his wife’s direction before he had even thought it through completely.

  What was he going to say to her?

  Mac didn’t even know, but it had to be something.

  Melina just opened her office door when Mac’s hand landed to the small of her back and guided her inside with him right behind. He let the door shut with a soft click as Melina turned in her tight dress and sky-high heels to face him. Her surprised but happy eyes at seeing him was enough to make some of his anger ebb away.

  But not all.

  “Doll,” he said. “Before I say anything else, I just want to give you the chance to tell me whatever you need to tell me. Anything, Melina, that you think I might need or want to know. Important shit, okay. Go for it.”

  Melina’s brow furrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

  She didn’t get it.

  Mac figured that was half of the problem.

  “I know you’re used to handling shit on your own, problems or whatever, but even when you do that, you need to include me.”

  “Mac, what is fucking wrong with you?”

  Ah, there she was.

  Claws and all.

  Melina’s eyes lit up with her anger, but she didn’t back down when Mac took a step forward, crowding her body with his.

  “Who approached you?” he asked.

  “Nobody.”

  “Wrong answer, doll.”

  Melina’s lips drew into a tight line. “I don’t know what has gotten into you, but I’ve already had enough. Go home. I’ll see you when I get there later.”

  “No.”

  “What—no?”

  “No,” Mac repeated simply. “My father. A while back, you two had a run in, and you didn’t bother to tell me. Why not?”

  Melina’s shoulders stiffened. “After I calmed down, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. We barely spoke. And it’s not like I give a flying shit about him. He’s not too fond of me, either.”

  “Not the point. James only comes around when he wants something—I’ve explained this to you before, Melina. The man is a fucking snake. You should have told me.”

  “Nothing happened for me to tell!”

  “Yet!” Mac exploded right back. “Nothing has happened yet.”

  His wife blinked in the face of his rage, her gaze dropping to the bloodstains on his shirt and the bruises on his knuckles. “What happened to you?”

  “Me?” Mac scoffed. “Nothing. Fuck all happened to me.”

  “Then, who?”

  “Someone who knows better than to bother me and mine.”

  Melina frowned. “Your father?”

  “He earned it.”

  “Mac! It wasn’t anything important. I would have told you if—”

  “You should have told me this time, Melina.”

  Melina didn’t look like she was ready to back down on the issue, but still asked, “You didn’t kill him, did you?”

  Mac sneered. “Not this time.”

  Mac had a control complex.

  Now, more than ever, Melina was firmly convinced of it.

  It had been nearly a week since Mac had showed up at The Dollhouse spoiling for a fight and they’d barely spoken more than a few words to each other since then. Mac had thrown himself even more into his “work,” and to Melina, his paranoia levels were at an all-time high. She didn’t understand it. All she had been trying to do was keep the peace and as a result, her husband was pissed at her because she hadn’t run to him and whined like some damsel in distress.

  She’d never been the girl who needed saving and she wasn’t about to start now.

  What was so wrong with her handling the situation herself?

  James Sr. had gotten the message because she hadn’t seen him since.

  No doubt, he’d crawled back under the rock he’d slithered out from in the first place.

  So why was her husband giving so much of his energy to someone who didn’t matter?

  She didn’t know, but she meant to find out because this …
whatever this was going on between her and Mac had to come to a stop. They were still newlyweds, for fuck’s sake. They should still be basking in the ambiance of being married, not still stewing over a situation that was not even worth arguing over in the first place.

  Melina loved her husband and she understood that he had an image to maintain.

  After all, Cosa Nostra was all about appearances.

  It wouldn’t be good if word got out that a man like James Sr. had no fear of approaching the wife of a made man and making insinuations. It would look like Mac wasn’t capable of protecting his family.

  In short, he would look weak.

  So from that part, Melina could understand why Mac thought she should have told him.

  On the other hand, she thought Cosa Nostra tended to make a mountain out of a mole hill.

  So James Sr. had made a few slick comments. Big whoop. It wasn’t like he was the first man to do so to her and before her time was finished on this earth, Melina was certain he wouldn’t be the last.

  She was a big girl, who could handle herself.

  Perhaps Mac needed reminding of that.

  Melina’s eyes narrowed as Mac opened the door to their bedroom. She glanced at the clock on the wall.

  “Do you know what time it is?” she asked quietly.

  “Yeah.”

  Another one word answer. He took off his jacket and threw it on the bed without looking at her. Melina’s ire was piqued but she squelched her inclination to throttle him. Tonight wasn’t about re-igniting their fight. She had plans to re-ignite something else altogether. Melina rose from her seat at her vanity and walked over to her husband. When she stepped in front of him, he looked at her for the first time.

  “We need to talk.”

  “About what?” Mac folded his arms.

  Still looking her husband in the eyes, Melina slowly undid the belt to her black silk robe, giving Mac a subtle peek at what she wore beneath. His eyes narrowed.

  “About the fact that we’re mature adults who need to be able to talk things out. About the fact that this distance between us isn’t good for a healthy marriage.”

  “Neither is keeping secrets, doll.”

  Melina sighed. “Mac, I wasn’t keeping secrets from you. Will you please listen to me?”

  Mac took a seat on the side of the bed. “The floor is yours.”

  “Look, when James Sr. ran into me, I fully had intentions of telling you. I thought to myself that you’d want to know he was still on the radar somewhere.”

  “Your first inclination was right. What changed your mind?”

  Melina sat beside Mac on the bed. “I didn’t want to cause any more problems than we already have.”

  “How could you telling me that he accosted you cause more problems, Melina? You’re my wife. My most important job is to keep you safe!”

  “Mac, you and James already have a contentious relationship and that’s putting it lightly. If I’d come home and told you exactly how the conversation went down and the way I felt afterwards, there’s no doubt in my mind you would have come unglued. If your father’s blood has to be spilled, I don’t want it to be because I enflamed an already volatile situation.”

  Mac’s nostrils flared. “So you’re saying, there was more to it than you told me?”

  Melina tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes. He made me feel really uncomfortable.”

  “In what way?” Mac’s voice was low.

  “He didn’t look at me the way a man should look at his daughter-in-law and he made some insinuations about you.”

  “What. Did. He. Say?”

  “He said that he didn’t think that you were man enough to handle a woman like me and that perhaps someone like him was.”

  Melina bit her lip as she regarded her husband. His eyes closed and his hands curled into fists. When he opened his eyes, and looked at her, Melina swallowed hard. She’d expected to see the cold, detached man she’d glimpsed when it came to dealing with business. What she saw before her was a man on fire. His hands relaxed and Mac touched her face, gripping her chin between his thumb and his forefinger.

  “You’re mine and any man that thinks he can do and say whatever he wants to you without consequence has signed his own death warrant.”

  His words were soft, like a silken caress and despite his veiled threat of murder. Melina couldn’t deny it turned her on.

  “I don’t want you to …”

  Her words were cut off as Mac pressed his thumb against her lips.

  “Shh. Don’t go there, doll. Whatever decision I make will be mine and mine alone.”

  She nodded as his other hand tugged open the side of her robe. His hot gaze scorched her and Melina’s body burned for more.

  “You are so damned beautiful. So fucking sexy. So damned stubborn. A man couldn’t want you more than I do, doll.”

  “I want you, too. I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

  Mac leaned close and pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too.”

  “I appreciate that you didn’t want to make things worse between me and James. And I have no doubt that you put him in his place when he got out of line.”

  “I did.”

  “But next time, tell me, even if you think it’s nothing. Or even if it might make things worse, tell me. You and I can’t afford to have secrets.”

  “You have my word. From now on, I’ll tell you everything, even if it bores you to tears.”

  “I don’t think you could ever do that, doll. Now tell me something, is there a reason you’re wearing nothing but lace?”

  Melina smiled as she leaned away so that she could look her husband in the eyes. “I planned on seducing my husband.”

  Mac raised a brow. “Is that so?”

  “Absolutely. Don’t you recall me saying your exquisite cock was one of the reasons I married you?”

  Mac laughed. “I do seem to recall that.”

  “Then what do you say we do something about that?”

  “Absolutely, doll.”

  Melina’s arms wrapped around her husband as he maneuvered them on the bed so that he was lying on top of her. Their lips met and the first touch of Mac’s mouth on hers ignited a spark deep inside. Melina’s legs opened, eager to welcome him into a place that belonged only to him. His lips trailed down her neck, sucking the sensitive spot behind her ear that made her toes curl. When he caught the lobe of her ear between his teeth and bit down softly, Melina’s fingernails dug into his shoulders.

  Her moan echoed.

  His tongue traced the shell of her ear before Mac grabbed the neckline of her nightgown and ripped it down the middle, exposing her naked body.

  “Perfection,” Mac said.

  “You owe me a new gown.”

  “Next time, just be naked and we won’t have this problem.” He winked at her.

  “Smart ass.”

  Any further response was lost as Mac’s mouth engulfed her nipple, sucking it hard in his mouth. Her sensitive nerve endings were on fire. As his tongue swirled around the soft tip, Melina’s hand eased between her thighs. She rubbed the tight bundle of nerves that were crying out for relief for but a moment before her hand was roughly jerked away.

  “What the hell?”

  “Hush,” Mac said.

  And then his mouth was there. Melina’s thighs opened wider as he licked and sucked at her hot, aching flesh. No one knew her body like her husband. Mac knew just what spot to kiss, lick and suck. Wetness seeped from between her thighs and Melina held tight to Mac as she rode the wave of pleasure that coursed through her body. She couldn’t hold back the scream that tore from her throat as she came hard, hot and loud.

  Mac leaned over her, reaching for the buckle to his pants. Together they worked until his pants were off and they were skin to skin. His hard, hot body on hers was everything she’d been missing. Mac slipped inside her easily, filling her completely. The thick, velvety drag of him inside he
r was like an ember that gradually grew to a flame. His hands were in her hair, holding her tight as their bodies tangoed in a dance as old as time.

  “Ah, fuck,” Mac said.

  The pace of his strokes increased and Melina’s thighs tightened around him as she came closer to the precipice of pleasure that awaited them both.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Melina and Mac’s grunts and groans of pleasure filled the air, before Mac rolled to his side, taking Melina with him. He was still buried inside of her. They lay entwined together, their breathing rough and irregular as they both struggled to catch their breath.

  Fire and passion.

  It was like that every time the two of them came together. As if the world could burn down around them and nothing else would matter but the pure primal desire they had for each other. Minutes passed before they could finally speak.

  “Doll, we are going to have to kiss and make up more often. That was something else.”

  Melina laughed. “It always is.”

  “Give me a few more minutes to recover and we can make up some more.”

  “That sounds like a fine idea.”

  “Mac, what’s the meaning of this?”

  Melina stood in their bedroom, clad only in a black strapless bra and matching thong. The dress she’d picked out to wear to the opening of The Dollhouse was nowhere in sight. Mac entered the room, casually adjusting his tie.

  “What are you yelling about, doll?”

  “Don’t be cute. What did you do with my dress?”

  “I put it back in the closet.”

  Melina put her hands on her hips. “Why?”

  “Tonight is a special night for you and I wanted you to have a little something that reflects that. Go ahead and open it.”

  Melina turned her attention to the large silver box that lay on the bed. Opening it and moving aside the tissue paper that was covering what lay underneath, Melina pulled out the garment. Her husband was something else.