Bad Girl: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance)

by Willow Winters

  Bad Girl

  Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance)

  Willow Winters

  Contents

  Copyright

  Join My Naughty List

  Blurb

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  1. Three weeks earlier

  2. Tonya

  3. Tommy

  4. Tonya

  5. Tommy

  6. Tonya

  7. Tommy

  8. Tonya

  9. Tommy

  10. Tonya

  11. Tommy

  12. Tonya

  13. Tommy

  14. Tommy

  15. Tonya

  16. Tommy

  17. Tommy

  18. Tommy

  19. Tonya

  20. Tonya

  21. Tonya

  22. Tonya

  23. Tommy

  24. Tonya

  25. Tonya

  26. Tonya

  27. Tommy

  28. Tonya

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Sneak Peek at Bad Boy, Anthony Valetti’s Story

  29. Chapter 1

  Check out the first book in the series

  Dirty Dom

  Blurb

  Prologue

  My Newsletter

  Copyright

  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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  On to the bad boys... Enjoy!

  Blurb

  Bad Girl

  Willow Winters

  This sh*t could get me killed, but I’ll risk it all to make her mine.

  I’m not a good man, but I’ve never claimed to be. I’m the muscle for the Valetti crime family, and I fit the part with my hard, ripped muscles and cocky attitude.

  I’ve never wanted for anything, until I met her. A woman I can never have.

  She’s a cop, and I’m a suspect in her case. Just being seen together would put a target on both our backs.

  She may be a sweet little thing, but she’s a badass at heart with a spitfire attitude. She’s f*cking perfect. I can’t help imagining those lush, sassy lips wrapped around the one part of me that doesn’t give a damn she’s off-limits.

  All I wanted was a taste of her tempting, forbidden curves. One moment of hot, wild passion, and I’m f*cking addicted.

  She’s too good for me, but that’s not gonna stop me from taking her and making her mine.

  Everything and everyone else be damned. I’m taking what’s mine.

  This is a standalone, full-length mafia romance with a filthy-mouthed, possessive bad boy and no cheating. Guaranteed HEA.

  Bad Girl

  A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

  (Valetti Crime Family)

  Winter Willows

  Dedicated to Donna and Cheryl

  You both rock. I wouldn’t be here without you.

  Prologue

  Tonya

  Tommy

  I push the cuffs together and grin when I hear them click, click, click, as they slowly tighten around her wrists. She’s not going anywhere now.

  “Tommy, please,” I plead with him. My pussy clenches as his hot breath tickles my neck, sending shivers down my body and making my nipples harden. I don’t even know why I’m begging him. This is exactly what I wanted. He’s what I need.

  “I told you to stay away,” I whisper into the crook of her neck. My hand travels slowly up her thigh, sending tremors down her body.

  I rock my pussy into his hand as his fingers shove my panties to the side. I shouldn’t want this, but I do. And I fucking love it. He pushes his hand harder against my pussy, letting me take my pleasure from him. Even though my eyes are closed, I know he’s smirking at me for giving in to him.

  “You knew what I’d do to you if you came around, didn’t you?” I ask her, even though I already know the answer.

  “Yes,” I whisper as his fingers gently circle my clit, sending a hot wave of pleasure through my body.

  “You deliberately disobeyed me, didn’t you?” I ask her as I slowly push two thick fingers into her welcoming heat. She arches her back and pulls against her restraints. She’s so fucking wet. So ready for me.

  I bite my bottom lip and muffle my moans of pleasure. He pulls his hand away, leaving me wanting, and my eyes pop open, already missing his touch. My body sags on the bed as I pant, waiting for him.

  I’m the muscle of the familia, and under investigation. This shit isn’t supposed to happen. But I want her. And I always get what I want.

  I’m a cop. I shouldn’t be fucking around with a thug like him. I should know better, but my body is begging for his touch. And I can’t tell him no.

  Just one more time, before I have to say goodbye.

  Just one more time, before it all comes to an end.

  “You’re such a bad girl, aren’t you?” I give her clit a light smack with the back of my hand before climbing off the bed to unzip my jeans, letting them fall to the floor.

  “I’m your bad girl.” My voice is barely above a murmur as he climbs between my legs. It hurts saying the words, because after today, I’ll never see him again. I can’t. But I want to be his bad girl.

  That’s right, she’s mine. All fucking mine. At least right now she is.

  I wish I could just stay here in this moment. I don’t want this to end.

  I slam my dick into her tight pussy all the way to the hilt, and stay deep inside her as her walls clench around me. She screams out and bucks against me, trying to get away, but all she needs is a moment to adjust. She feels so fucking good. Each time is better than the last. I’ll never be able to fuck this broad out of my system.

  My body tingles with an icy sensation as he pounds into me. Every nerve ending feels lit up, ready to spark, threatening to go off and consume me. The bed dips with each thrust and I instinctively pull against the cuffs, needing to touch him. The only sounds are the clinking of metal, our frantic breathing, and his hard thrusts.

  Her heels dig into my ass, wanting more as I rut between her legs. My fingers dig into her hips to keep her still, to make her take it. She asked for this; she begged for this by coming to me a
gain.

  I tilt my hips as he pushes deeper inside of me. A strangled cry escapes my throat as he pushes me to the brink of pain, then leaves me wanting more. He pulls out almost all the way, teasing me, but gives me what I need before I have to beg for it.

  My ears are filled with the sexy sounds of her moaning. She’s so loud that she’s almost drowning out the sounds of my dick slamming into her hot cunt. I fucking love it. It encourages me to fuck her harder. I never want to stop hearing her cries of pleasure.

  He slams into me and groans, the sound lingering in the hot air between us. It’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. My body heats in waves, and the tips of my fingers and toes go numb. I’m so close. I moan and whimper, and stare into his dark eyes as my orgasm hits me with a force that renders my scream silent.

  The sight of her cumming on my dick is my undoing. I press my body against hers and thrust with short, shallow pumps, filling her until our combined cum leaks down and onto the sheets.

  He kisses the crook of my neck, and I turn my head to eagerly take his lips with my own. My heart clenches in pain as I surrender all of my passion into our final kiss. Tears threaten to fall, but I push them away. I know this was our last time, but I don’t want it to be over.

  I keep my lips on hers as I reach up and unlock her cuffs with the key. As soon as one wrist is free, her hand’s in my hair, pulling me closer to her.

  I just need to feel him; I need to remember this. I don’t want it to end. I wish I could live in this moment forever.

  As I pull away, I see her eyes are closed and I know she wants this, too.

  I wanna make her happy; I wanna keep my bad girl. And I will.

  Everything and everyone else be damned. I can’t say goodbye to her.

  I’m not letting her go.

  Three weeks earlier

  Tommy

  I run my hand through my hair and take another look out of the window. Nothing yet. My apartment is a few stories up, but I can see down below to the first floor from here. I’m expecting a few cop cars to show up any minute now, sirens blaring. We got word a little earlier from the judge that he had to approve my arrest. He’s in our pocket, but there’s only so much even he can do.

  They have enough to bring me in for questioning, so I just need to keep my mouth shut. And I can do that--I’ve had plenty of practice.

  “Quit worrying,” my brother says from the other side of the living room. I turn to face Anthony as he pours more whiskey into our glasses. The ice clinks softly against the glass as he hands me my drink before taking a sip from his. “At least this will give you something to do.” He chuckles at his own joke.

  “Yeah, I'm bored to fucking tears.” I've been keeping a low profile, which means no family business. I don't know what the fuck to do with myself. I'm used to going out and getting shit done. Instead I'm holed up, waiting for this to be over. I miss being out there and making sure the Valettis are still respected and feared like we should be.

  I'm the best of the best at keeping that fear alive. I'm six-foot-two, and muscle on top of muscle. I know some fucker is going to mess with our shit. They always do. And right now I can't do shit about it. Instead I'm sitting here on my ass, being a good little boy while the judge works his magic and Kane takes over my position.

  “It's not like this is your first time.” He smirks at me and I grunt a humorless laugh.

  Anthony does the hits, and all the shit behind the scenes. He’s never been taken in, not like the rest of us in the familia. Lucky fucker. When you work on the streets like I do, you get hauled in every once in awhile. Usually it doesn’t faze me, but this is different. I'm not gonna lie, it'd be nice to get a gig like Anthony's and not have to deal with this shit.

  The first time I was taken in was back when I was 22 years old. A low-life asshole thought he could steal from us. He was a fucking idiot. No one steals from us Valettis. We’re well-known, feared, and respected. More so now than we were back then. But junkies will do whatever it takes to get their next hit. The poor bastard knew it was coming, too.

  I found the fucker shooting up outside of a strip joint. He was in the back alley. Couldn’t even wait till he got home, I guess. It doesn’t bother me much now, but back then it took a toll on me. I hadn’t toughened up yet. I broke his arm first. I learned that from my pop. Grab, twist, and crack. That way it’s more difficult for them to fight back. He didn’t even see me coming until his arm was busted and hanging limp at his side. I had to rough him up a bit. It was one of my first errands, and I knew the familia would go checking up behind me to see what kind of a job I'd done.

  We agreed on new terms to the deal while he sat huddled in his own piss in that dark, filth-covered alley. And by that I mean he agreed to pay it all back with hefty interest by the next day. I have no clue if he ever paid up. I can’t imagine if and how he did, but then again, that’s not my job. And I don’t ask questions.

  Unfortunately, a little old lady saw us and decided to do the right thing. She stood at the entrance to the alley. I remember how her silhouette blocked the golden glow illuminating us from the street light. She was a small, frail woman in a cardigan, and had a plastic bag from the drugstore next door hanging from her wrist. When I looked her in the eyes, daring her to reach for her phone, she looked back with no fear at all. Feisty old woman.

  I didn’t bother dealing with her the way we normally handle witnesses. I figured the punk would live, but his ass wasn’t going to press charges. That, and I’d only killed once before. That fucker had it coming to him, but this woman didn’t. I wasn’t getting her blood on my hands.

  The prick ran out of the alley ahead of me and knocked her to the ground as she dialed the police. Having done my part, I took off and prayed she wouldn’t be able to identify me. After all, it was dark, I was clad in all black, and I never got close enough to her so she could really see me. Or so I thought.

  Old bat did see me though, and the cops knew exactly who she was describing. They know we’re the mob, so they’re always waiting for a chance to pin something on us. And I gave it to them, like a dumbfuck. Uncle Dante reamed me out pretty good. He was the Don back then, before his son Vince took over.

  Luckily, nothing ever came of it. A night in the slammer, and I was a free man. That was the first time. Since then I’ve been careful, but occasionally we get pulled in for questioning. It’s rare to spend a night in jail, though. Not when we have the best lawyer money can buy, and more than enough cops and judges on our payroll to make up our own court system. We always know when we’ll be detained ahead of time, so we’re always prepared.

  But this time, fuck--this time it could be the real thing for me. The uncertainty surrounding this arrest is different from all the other times, and I don’t like it.

  “You’re gonna be fine,” Anthony says, taking a seat on my sofa. He drapes his arms across the back of the grey leather couch, and I wish I were as relaxed as him. I've never been envious of Anthony. He's a few inches shorter than me, and between the two of us, I'm the bigger pussy magnet. But right now I wish I'd been smart like him and and taken a job that didn't have me risking my neck like this.

  “He said there’s a good bit of evidence,” I point out. Those are the words I keep hearing. Good bit of evidence.

  “What are they gonna charge you with, huh?” He takes a swallow of his whiskey and leans forward, setting his drink down on the glassy surface of the coffee table before answering his own question. “Doing their job for ‘em?” He says it sarcastically with a raised brow.

  We got into a tight spot with some business partners, Abram Petrov and his crew. He was a big fucking deal, along with his supposed second-in-command Vadik Mikhailov. They took over international territories like it was nothing. Then he came here and wanted us to deal in the sex trafficking industry. That’s not our thing. Unfortunately, when you tell people 'no' in our line of business, cutting ties takes on a whole new meaning.

  “Murder, that one’s legit,” I fin
ally respond. Thirteen dead members of Petrov’s crew were left at the scene, along with twelve women we made certain were safe in the back room. We had a heads-up from Kane about Petrov's plan to murder us, so Petrov and his crew went down easier since they didn’t know our ambush was coming.

  Now the cops are trying to pin it all on me. I was the one stupid enough to leave evidence behind. Usually the clean-up crew gets all of it. But this time, they didn’t. It’s not like I was sloppy--I’m never sloppy. Shit just falls through the cracks sometimes. And this time it might fuck me over real good.

  “Stop sweating it. They’re just trying to get something from you,” Anthony points out, still trying to reassure me. I should listen to Anthony. My brother’s got great intuition, and he’s always right. “I’ll be there to pick you up when you’re done, waiting right outside.” He picks up his drink again, taking another pull before continuing. “And I bet the ice in my drink won’t even be melted by the time you’re getting into my ride.” He swirls the ice around in the glass for emphasis as he says it.

  He keeps my gaze, but I have to break it. I have a sick feeling in my gut. Vince says it’ll be fine, that the judge says some of the evidence is inadmissible. But some is not all, and something deep down is telling me they’re going to get me this time. It was way too big of a scene to clean up. Too much shit on our turf. We’ve been laying low, but it’s going to blow up in our faces. I just know it.