Ciro’s Promise: A Bad Boy Mob Romance (Santora Mafia) (The Outlaw’s Oath Collection Book 1)

by Nicole Fox

  “Sophia …” His voice was low. A warning?

  I didn’t care. I had already risked everything and there was nothing left to lose. “Ciro.”

  Those big hands gripped my waist, possessing me. That was what had attracted me to him in the first place all those years ago. He was a man in charge, and he took what he wanted. He clutched me to him, his fingers running just inside the waistband of my shorts and exploring my lower back. I could feel the hardness between his legs as he pressed himself against me, and I grew wet between my own.

  Before I knew it, we were stumbling through the door of his bedroom, unable to take our hands off each other. He kicked the door shut behind us, snatching up the material of my top and yanking it over my head as soon as we had our privacy. The cool air assaulted my breasts, but he warmed them quickly with his mouth, kissing and suckling until they were pert buds in his hands.

  I felt his thick fingers pulling at my shorts again, and I arched myself against him. His hands ran over my buttocks as he peeled them off and pitched them to the floor. I wrapped one leg around his waist, only the fabric of his trousers between us now. I reveled in being naked in front of him. Knowing that his eyes were roving over my body made me feel sexy and special. I might not have Ciro all to myself, but at least I had him for the moment.

  My fingers fumbled with his belt buckle and the buttons on his shirt, too excited to do a good job of undressing him. He helped, ripping off his shirt and dropping his pants. We were on the bed, twisting, writhing, and discovering every inch of each other. I ran my hands through his hair and down across his broad shoulders to explore the long, smooth planes of his back and the firm strength of his backside. He dug his hands in underneath my ass as the head of his dick rubbed against me, teasing me.

  “I want you, Sophia,” he whispered. “Don’t think I haven’t thought of you since that night of the party. You’re still just as gorgeous as you’ve always been, and I mean to have you.”

  Pleasure shot through my body like electricity. He knew what to do with his hands as well as his voice. “I’m yours,” I purred. “You can do whatever you’d like with me.”

  He was impatient with himself while he retrieved a condom from the nightstand, but he gave a roar of triumph when he plunged himself inside me. His weight made me sink down into the mattress as he moved in and out, his hands grasping my hips.

  I spread my legs and wrapped them around his, feeling the muscles of his thighs as he worked. He was so sexy above me, with that wide chest and his rippling arms. If nothing else, I knew what it was like to be with a real man. “Ciro …” I whispered, unable to tell him everything that I was thinking. It was all there in my mind, but the sparks that lit the room as our bodies touched overwhelmed any words I could say.

  Suddenly, he was off of me. The room felt cold without the heat of his skin against me. He was off the bed and standing on the floor, his eyes aflame with desire. I was about to ask him what was wrong when he grabbed me by my thighs and pulled me down to the edge of the mattress. Spreading my legs once again, he speared me.

  “I wanted to be able to see you better,” he said as his balls pounded against my ass. “You have an amazing body, and I’m not going to let it go to waste.” Ciro put his hands on either side of my neck, his thumbs tracing my jawline. His touch slowly moved down, gracing each of my breasts, my stomach, and my waist. The fingers of his hand still curled around my hipbone, he touched my clit with the pad of his thumb.

  I lurched in surprise, the touch like a shock.

  “Too much?” he asked, his dark eyebrow arched. But he moved his thumb in slow circles, pressing just hard enough. God, did that man know his way around my body!

  I shook my head, almost unable to answer. “Just …a surprise.”

  “What? You don’t think you deserve to get yours? I want to see you come. I want to see your face as you melt all around me.” His thumb moved a little faster, working at me, knowing that I could only take it for so long.

  I had no choice but to give him what he asked for. It was the smallest thing I could do for him in comparison to what he had done for me, and I couldn’t say that I minded. I hadn’t bothered trying to date anyone since the divorce, and except for that little run-in with Ciro back at my apartment, it had been so long since I had been satisfied. I brought my hands up to cradle my jiggling breasts as Ciro continued to pump away, that thumb coaxing me to my peak.

  I closed my eyes, for once thinking of nothing but what was happening at the moment. His cock was so big inside me, filling up every inch as he slammed it all the way in to the hilt. I pressed the back of my leg into his lower back, and he got the hint. He leaned into me, keeping his dick where it belonged as he ground against me. His thumb worked away on the outside while his member swiveled inside, catching both spots. I arched my back to press him harder into me.

  “You want more?”

  “I can’t get enough of you,” I moaned. “I need it all.”

  He complied, grinding hard against me as he held himself up with his free hand. Every ounce of me gathered into a tight ball at my core, quivered, and exploded. Ciro felt the undulations of pleasure inside me, and I wasn’t the only one exploding.

  As we lay under the sheets a minute later, still panting and sweating, Ciro wrapped his arms around me. I realized with a silent giggle that I had never even been in his room before. We didn’t say a word to each other as we found a new way for our bodies to mold together, my backside tucked up against him and the heat of his skin radiating to my very center.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ciro

  That evening with Sophia had been the best distraction from reality I ever could have imagined, but there were too many things weighing on my mind to dwell on it for long. The two of us danced around each other at the house over the next few days. She watched me with those bright, blue eyes, her hair disheveled and sexy as she made breakfast or watched TV, and her clothes clinging to her far too tightly for a woman who was now a housewife and a mother. She looked like she wanted me, but she hadn’t come to my room since then.

  For that matter, I hadn’t come to hers, either. I could have easily slipped in and taken what I wanted from her; I knew she would give it willingly. But I needed to think, and I wasn’t going to be able to do any of that with my dick. Frankie was dead. My best friend. Someone was going to have to pay for it. He had said the Vincenzos were involved, and that much didn’t surprise me. Joe was crooked enough that he was willing to work for us despite the oath he had made to the police, so it was not a far stretch of the imagination that he should get in with a rival family as well. But who had betrayed us? Who had informed him of the hit? I sat in my study, brooding and thinking.

  On Wednesday morning, I stood in front of the long mirror in my bedroom and made final adjustments to my best suit. It was custom made in fine material and perfectly tailored to my body. It was a suit any man should have been happy to wear. But knowing why I was wearing it took all that away.

  A soft knock came at the door.

  “Come in.”

  Sophia’s delicate face peeked around the heavy oak door. She had swept her hair back into a low bun and curled the stray strands that hung down around her face. Most of the time she never wore makeup, but the soft shades of copper she had applied to her eyes and the pale pink of her lips made her even more alluring than usual. “Are you doing all right?”

  “I’m fine,” I replied gruffly as I tightened my tie. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

  She came into the room, softly closing the door and leaning against it. Her black dress, with its off-the-shoulder neckline and half-sleeves, clung pleasantly to her body. She didn’t come near me. She hadn’t since that night. I had probably done something to scare her off once again, but this wasn’t the time to worry about that. “If there’s anything I can do …”

  “There’s not. I’m ready.” I shooed her out the door. She skittered off to retrieve Christopher from his room, and I stormed dow
n the stairs and out through the kitchen to the garage. The two of them followed shortly after. I grabbed the keys to the Mercedes sedan. I preferred to drive the Jaguar, but it wasn’t appropriate. Besides, the three of us wouldn’t fit nearly as well in it.

  Jimbo and I locked eyes as I stepped out of the house. He was dressed in the finest suit he had, but somehow, he still looked sloppy. I could see the sadness and the sympathy in his eyes, and I didn’t like it. I didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for me. He got into his vehicle, and I left the garage as soon as I knew he was ready. It was safer to travel in separate cars so that someone always had an extra eye on Sophia and Christopher.

  She sat next to me in the passenger seat, her hands tucked primly around her clutch on her lap as he watched the road in front of us. Even Christopher, whom I had glimpsed in his own tiny suit, was quiet and respectful. They were walking on eggshells for me, worrying about me. I was the one who was supposed to be worrying about them.

  The services were to be held at the graveside. I knew my father had had a hand in scheduling and arranging everything. It was the kind of thing he did well, and he had more than enough money to throw at any problem that came his way. Even so, I couldn’t help but wonder if we were doing everything in one spot to avoid a funeral procession that might endanger my new family. My shoulders were heavy as I got out of the car and came around to open the door for Sophia and Christopher.

  The cemetery was far too bright for such an occasion, but I couldn’t stop the sun from shining just for me. The smooth grass of the graveyard rolled over gentle slopes, the stones rising from it as though they had grown there. The other mourners were already beginning to gather, parking along the narrow roads that ran through the cemetery and climbing the hill. The men in the suits and the women in dresses, they were all there to grieve for my best friend. I was there to grieve for what I had done.

  “Son,” my father said as he wrapped me in an embrace. “I’m so sorry. I know how much Frankie meant to you. He was a good man.” He nodded toward the casket, the shadows from the trees dancing over the dark wood like little shadowy demons. He looked at me meaningfully before he took his seat.

  I didn’t miss what his real message was. He was sorry that Frankie had died, that much was true, but he was sorrier that I had let him down. I had gone behind his back, and we would discuss it later. Big T took funerals seriously, and he wasn’t about to confront me about the hit while we were burying our fallen brother, but he wouldn’t just let it go by the wayside.

  Escorting Sophia to one of the metal folding chairs that had been set up at the graveside, I sat down heavily next to her. I should have been proud, even at a funeral, to have such a beautiful woman by my side, but I was too busy watching the crowd. Someone—and likely someone here today—had betrayed us. It was one of these men whom I had known for years. One of them had decided to undermine the Santoras’ hold over the city and reveal the planned hit. Whoever it was, he had changed my life completely. I was tired of that happening.

  My eyes skimmed over the faces of numerous capos as they filed quietly next to the casket and found a seat. They made the appropriate gestures, murmured their condolences, and commented on the weather. Their suits were dark gray and black, absorbing the sunlight, and their shoes polished to a shine. Everything was so normal. I hated it.

  The preacher, whom I had managed to avoid up until this point, finally stood up to begin the service. “Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for coming here today to mourn the life of Franklin Boccia. I know he was a man who was much loved by his friends and family, and he will be forever missed. Let’s start with an opening prayer.”

  I tuned out what he said after that. No prayers he could send up would ever change the decisions I had made or bring Frankie back. I was destined to go through the rest of my life without my best friend at my side. Instead, I was left with a new mission in life. I wasn’t worried anymore about becoming Don and leading the family. None of that mattered if we had a rat in our midst. The hardest part of it all was that there was no good way to determine who had given us away.

  Frankie’s warning about Bruno echoed in the back of my mind. He hadn’t outright accused him of talking to the Vincenzos, but he didn’t trust him, either. I wished I’d had the chance to ask him why, to understand where those feelings had come from. I couldn’t just go around casting accusations. I would only get myself killed, and it would tear the family apart. It felt as though we were close enough to collapse without me helping it along.

  My eyes slid down the row of mourners to find Bruno. He looked down at his lap as he listened to the preacher, his heavy lids drawn down over his eyes like lampshades and his lower lip sticking out. Was he truly sad about Frankie? Was he rejoicing inside? He certainly didn’t look like a man who had betrayed us. Mack and Bennie had been there, too. What about them?

  As I looked for them, I turned to my right. Sophia was still there, by my side even when I wasn’t thinking about her. Tears glistened in her eyes as she listened to the service. She’d never even had a chance to meet Frankie, but here she was grieving for him. She looked like a dark angel in her black dress. I could tell she had talked to Christopher about how important this was. The boy squirmed in his seat and watched birds fly overhead, but he kept quiet.

  The plain gold band on my left hand was suddenly heavy around my finger. She was a good woman, and she had been in real danger when she had come to me. Unfortunately, it seemed as though she was only in a worse position now that she was my wife. I didn’t know if I would be able to protect her, especially since I didn’t know who I needed to protect her from. My back tightened as I continued to search for the threat to our family.

  Before I knew it, the casket was being lowered into the ground. I stood to do my duty as his best friend and threw a handful of dirt into the hole, marring the surface of the wood. Frankie’s parents had died a long time ago. I was the only one he’d had, and now I no longer had him. I watched as the heavy box settled into the cold ground, and the bottom of my heart threatened to fall down into the grave with it. I would have to find a new way to live my life, because this wasn’t working.

  I turned from the grave and paused only long enough for Sophia and Christopher to get to their feet before I headed back to the car.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sophia

  It had been so long since I had been to Tonio Santora’s house. No, I couldn’t call it a house. It was a mansion and then some. When Joe and I had come to the Santoras’ parties all those years ago, I had only seen it at night. With its room and halls full of revelers, it had been a monument to the nightlife, a living definition of wild carousing. Even during the day, the sweeping lines and rows upon rows of windows were impressive. The interior, decorated in stark white with bold arrangements of black and dark-brown furniture, was equally stunning.

  Christopher had been duly infatuated with Ciro’s house, but Tonio’s was almost more than he could handle. He clung to my hand tightly as he tipped his head back to study the crystal chandelier far over our heads in the living room. “Where are we, Mommy? Is this a museum?” His eyes were wide, his lips parted in awe. We walked past a sculpture taller than him, its pointed tines rising up past his line of vision.

  I could understand his feelings. I had never understood how anyone lived there, but it had always been a let-down to come back to the shabby apartment I had shared with Joe. “This is a house. It belongs to Ciro’s dad.”

  The boy’s eyes turned to my new husband, but the look on Ciro’s face stopped him from asking any further questions. The firm set of his jaw and the hardness in his eyes told anyone who cared to look that the funeral had been rough on him. “Do they have a big TV here, too?” Christopher whispered.

  I knelt down so I could speak to him without anyone overhearing. “I’m sure they probably do, but remember that this is still part of the funeral. Just because we aren’t at the cemetery anymore doesn’t mean we can start acting silly.”

  H
is eyes were wide as he listened. I had tried to explain to him about Ciro’s friend dying, but there was only so much a five-year-old could wrap his head around. “Okay, Mommy.”

  “Ciro! Sophia!” Carlita swept across the room to greet us, her cool hands pressing mine between them before she stepped up to her son and kissed his cheek. “Are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine, Mom,” Ciro replied stiffly, his lips barely moving.

  “And there’s my little man.” Carlita stooped down to wrap Christopher in a hug. “Why don’t you come with me? I’ve got a special room set up for the kids with snacks and video games, so you don’t have to hang out with all the boring adults.” She looked up at me, her eyes sparkling. “If that’s all right with you.”

  I couldn’t say no even if I had wanted to. The excited look on Christopher’s face was irresistible, and he would have a much better time with the other children than tagging along after me. The fact that Carlita’s expression matched it convinced me that she had a genuine love for her new grandson. I glanced at Ciro, who gave a stiff nod. He felt it was safe enough. “You have a good time, sweetie. Behave yourself.”