A MOB BOSS CHRISTMAS: THE PREGNANCY (MOB BOSS SERIES)

by Monroe, Mallory

  “Put it in,” he ordered her. “I want to feel your warmth all over it.”

  And she opened her mouth for him to guide it in. First there was the head, that she began sucking like a lollipop, as she rounded her tongue around the tip and licked up all of his pre-cum. And then she moved down the shaft, licked it like an ice cream cone, and then took it in, all the way in, like the dick she loved to fuck.

  Reno sighed as she went all the way down on him, and he held onto the headboard as the veins in his muscular arms began to throb. Trina was never one of those females who constantly had to look up at him to make sure she was doing him right. She knew she was doing him right. She didn’t have to look up at shit. That was what Reno loved about her lovemaking. She knew how to take him into her mouth and feast without gorging. He never wanted her to gorge. He never wanted any gorging until his dick was inside her pussy. Right now he just wanted that anticipatory sex that always made the main event for them even more spectacular.

  And Trina feasted well. “That’s my girl,” he kept saying softly as she feasted on him. She made him moan and groan and feel that anticipation to the very roots of his hair.

  And when it bordered on going to the point of no return, she let off, and lifted her mouth up and off of his long, thick dick.

  “That’s my girl,” he said because of her correct judgment of the mood. And he moved his body down, kissing her mouth again, her already wet breasts again, her stomach, her thighs. And then he opened those thighs and gave her what she’d been anticipating.

  When she felt his first lick she pulsated. Just that easily. And he licked her folds in a long, titillating sweep that began from the bottom of her vagina to the top. It was never that fast, tongue-flicking shit for Reno. He knew how to take his time. He licked painfully slow, gliding his tongue up her folds, giving her that feeling of tender sweeping that made her sex muscles clench.

  Then his tongue slipped into her folds and began a downward descent that had him now eating her. That was the best part of all for Trina. The idea that he was in her, eating her wetness, his gorgeous head buried between her legs like a vibrator with jet propulsion. Because Reno’s mouth didn’t just vibrate her, it levitated her. It made her lift her hips and push her pussy so far up into his face that it nearly suffocated him.

  That was when Reno knew it was time. When Trina stopped trying to close those legs because she couldn’t take the intensity, but, instead, thrust those hips.

  “Now, baby,” Reno said lustfully as he got back on his knees, opened her legs wider, slid her body down closer, and shoved his dick inside of her. “Now comes a little dick whipping. Can I put it on you, baby?”

  “You know you can, Reno,” Trina said breathlessly, barely able to speak at all. “Put it on me.”

  “Can I put it on you?”

  “Put it on me!”

  And he did. He put a dick-whipping on her that she wouldn’t soon forget. He shoved deeper into her wetness, ballooning her with his full erection.

  “Oh,” he said, when she clenched her muscles around his dick. Ordinarily it would have been too soon. He had just entered her. But it was just right this time because of the amount of saturation. He would have moved in too deep too fast. And it would have been over had he done that. Now, with her clench, he backed off and got in rhythm first.

  He slid in and out of her, repeatedly, until he was sliding in and almost out. Trina laid her head back onto the pillow and relaxed now. He was putting it on her now. He was in that zone she loved. He was giving her that edginess that made her feel as if she was on the verge of cumming when it was just a tease. She loved when Reno made her feel this way. And he made her feel this way over and over and over again. He’d go all in, back up, and give her that wonderful edginess all over again.

  Reno felt it, too, as he slow-fucked the shit out of her. He leaned down, wrapped her in his arms, and fucked her for nearly twenty minutes straight. It was that fringe-dwelling, that constant feeling of being in the throes of cum, that enabled them to last so long.

  Trina experienced every inch of Reno. And not just his massive cock. But she felt his muscular body on top of her. She smelled his sweet cologne scent mixed up with sweat mixed up with funk and it started getting sensually heady to her. He had her tight in his arms. Imprisoned and impaled against him. And she didn’t want to break free.

  He was kissing her now, as he fucked her, and his fucking was growing faster and his breathing more erratic. Trina could feel the change. And she was kissing him harder, too. She was feeling every slash of his dick, every lash of his tongue, his warm breath on her face, his masculine scent and sensual power overwhelming her. She was his. She was his complete possession. And she wouldn’t, at that moment, have it any other way.

  “Ree-no!” she purred as he fucked her. Because he was whipping it on her harder and harder now. He was thrashing into her juices and slushing them around, and moving his cock, from the tip of his dickhead to the tip of his balls, deep down within her.

  Until something wonderful broke free. They both felt it. Something sweet and wonderful and powerful broke free. And they came, together, as Reno released like an overflowing river inside of her. He filled her up, and then began throbbing so hard that he thought the intensity alone would kill him.

  He poured out, and poured out, and when he thought he couldn’t possibly release another ounce, more poured. Trina felt a kind of rumbling roar, like a storm surge, as Reno kept pouring out. Every time they had sex it seemed better than the time before. But this time was different. It was wonderful, it was better than the time before, but it was different. Neither one of them could verbalize why it was so different, but they knew that it was.

  They just knew.

  They didn’t realize at the time, and Trina herself wouldn’t find out for another month, but on this night, on the night of Jimmy Mack’s eighteenth birthday, their bodies conspired together in a burst of love and passion that would end up bringing a child into this world.

  Their first child together.

  And Reno Gabrini, who felt everything so deeply, would never be the same again.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Six weeks later

  Reno looked down into the courtyard from his office on the fifth floor of the PaLargio. It was his smaller office, one he rarely used, and it stood in stark contrast to his massive suite of offices on the thirtieth floor. This was his getaway, a space he retreated to when he needed some peace and quiet while he worked.

  And it proved completely successful for most of the morning. He was able to get a lot of paperwork completed with no interruptions. But now he was taking a break. Now he was standing at the wall-sized window watching his teenage son Jimmy Mack, and the son of one of his managers, shoot hoops on the basketball court just beyond the promenade.

  Reno smiled as Jimmy illegally elbowed the smaller boy and then made a reverse layup to the hoop. “That’s my boy,” he said with a grin. “Don’t let those fuckers get away with nothing!”

  But even as he smiled, and even as he enjoyed watching his son, he still wasn’t completely over the shock that such a smart, strapping, handsome young black male was actually bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. But it was a fact. He found out only months before, but the DNA test eventually confirmed it: James Mack Ridgeway, the son of a woman he’d met over eighteen years ago, was all his.

  But before Reno could even revel in the thought of this new discovery, and the fact that the kid was actually an honest-to-goodness wonderful boy, the double doors of his office swept open, and a voice he knew so well entered talking.

  “Tell Richie it doesn’t apply to me, Reno,” she said as she entered. It was such a familiar voice that Reno didn’t bother to turn around. He knew it was his sister Fran. Richie Marcasi, better known as Dirty, was Fran’s husband.

  “How did you get in here?” Reno asked, still staring at his son on the basketball court.

  “I walked in, how do you think? They better not try to s
top me from seeing my own brother. And why aren’t you in your office, anyway?”

  “This is my office.”

  “I’m talking about the real one on the thirtieth floor,” she said as she walked over to the window and stood beside her brother. “The one with the ten thousand secretaries and million assistants. Your main office.”

  He finally turned her way. She was attractive and she knew it, with long, black hair that framed a face of big, Mediterranean dark eyes and thin lips. She was in her twenties, whiny as hell, and sometimes Reno couldn’t stand the sight of her. But she was his kid sister. She was his responsibility.

  “So what do you want now?” he asked her, as he unbuttoned his double-breasted Armani suit coat.

  Fran gave her brother a bitter look. What an asshole, she thought. And he had the nerve to be a pretty asshole at that. This disgusted Fran no end. She was the female, after all, yet it was Reno who had the romantic blue eyes, and the gorgeous brown hair, and the slamming body. It just wasn’t fair, she felt, that her brother should be prettier than she was. Especially a brother like Reno, whose bad temper and legendary impatience made him undeserving of all of the gifts he’d been given. To Fran she was gravely shortchanged. While Reno, in her view, was grossly overcompensated. “Why do I have to want anything?” she asked. “Maybe I just want to say hey to my big brother.”

  “And then after you favor me with your hello you’re sure to ask for something in return. So what is it?”

  “You are such a prick, you know that, Reno? You show me such love and affection.”

  “Tell me what you want, Francine, or I’ll throw you out of here. How’s that for love and affection?”

  “Why are you so mean to me, Reno?”

  “What do you want?”

  She exhaled. That dog of a brother of hers would never change his ways, she didn’t know why she kept trying. “I want you to tell Richie that your rule doesn’t apply to me.”

  Reno almost rolled his eyes. What nonsense was she bothering him about now? “What rule?” he asked her.

  “About playing at the blackjack tables. Richie claim you said we couldn’t gamble in the casino anymore, not as long as he worked in the casino. But I don’t work there. I told him that rule doesn’t apply to me. How would it look if I can’t even have a nice little game inside my own brother’s casino? It’ll look crazy, Reno, that’s how it’ll look. But Richie won’t listen.”

  Reno had already turned his attention back to the courts outside. And it wasn’t a moment too soon because Jimmy Mack faked one way and then pivoted as he dribbled the basketball behind his back and sprinted to the hoop for a slam dunk. Reno let out a shout of happiness. “That’s my boy!” he yelled. “Show’em how it’s done!”

  “Reno!” Fran said insistently as she, too, looked down at Jimmy Mack. “Will you pay me some attention here?”

  Reno looked her way. “Okay, what is it again? What is it that you said?”

  “I said talk to Richie! He won’t let me play at the blackjack tables.”

  “Blackjack? You bother me over some blackjack?”

  “But Richie won’t let me play.”

  “And how is that my problem? Dirty won’t let you play, then take it up with Dirty. Whatta you running to me for? He’s your husband,” Reno said, heading back toward his desk. He was certain that, as long as Fran was in his orbit, his peaceful afternoon was over. “Take it up with your husband.”

  “But he says you won’t let me do it because he works for you,” Fran said, following behind Reno. “I told him that’s not true, but he won’t listen.”

  Reno stood behind his desk and rubbed his forehead. He’d only been back in town for two months after a long, hot summer in Georgia, and his desk was still running over with documents he had to review, new projects he had to approve, the booking contracts for their A-list headliners he had to sign off on. He was glad to be back, but he had fallen so behind he still didn’t have his grove back yet.

  “Reno!” Fran yelled again when it again appeared that he wasn’t listening to her.

  “What?” Reno yelled back, a frown now on his face. “What the fuck are you bothering me for, Fran? I told you to take that shit up with Dirty. Why you keep asking me about it?”

  “Because,” Fran said and then went on to relay in excruciating detail what Dirty had said to her and how badly she wanted to play blackjack and on and on she went. To get rid of her Reno told her it was fine, and that he had no objection to her playing the tables, and that she and Dirty should keep him out of their marital squabbles. Thrilled, Fran hugged and kissed her brother and hurried back downstairs to the casino.

  But Dirty still refused to let her play. As one of Reno’s managers inside the casino, or a pit boss as they were called, Dirty had sway over those tables. The dealers listened to him. When he said his wife couldn’t play, they weren’t about to let her play. Fran, now furious, hurried back to Reno’s office.

  By the time she made it back upstairs, Jimmy Mack, still sweaty from his basketball game, was standing in front of the desk talking with his father. He looked so virile, Fran thought, in his shorts and sleeveless shirt, his fine bronzed body making her wonder, once again, what it would feel like to be with a black man.

  But she knew she’d never know. While her father was alive he instilled those limits within her. He was a straight up racist when it came to that. He and Reno could fuck black all day long, and they did fuck black all day long. But if she so much as looked at a black guy or a Hispanic or an Asian, or any guy that wasn’t full-fledged Italian, then her father would cut her a look that made her run for her life.

  And that was why she dismissed such thoughts and entered the office getting down to business.

  “He still won’t do it, Reno,” she said as she walked in. “Even after I told him what you said, he still won’t do it. How you doing, Jimmy?”

  “Hey, Aunt Fran,” Jimmy said with his usual affable smile. Fran was amazed how a boy who looked so obviously black could be Reno’s son.

  “I said exactly what you told me,” Fran continued, looking at Reno. “I told him over and over what you said. But he still said no. He still won’t let me do it.”

  Reno had been joking with his son about how he could probably take him in a one-on-one pickup game, but Fran’s sudden and rude appearance dampened his mood. “He still won’t let you do what?” he asked her.

  Fran rolled her eyes. Sometimes Reno seemed so out to lunch she wondered how he could ever run anything! “Blackjack, Reno. He still won’t let me play blackjack!”

  Reno couldn’t believe she was interrupting him again about some blackjack game. “Who the fuck cares?” he asked. “Get out of here! Don’t you see me talking here?”

  Then he frowned, as he suddenly realized something. “And what are you doing here anyway? I thought you and Tree were going to make a day of it at the mall? That was the big spiel y’all gave to me. Whatta you doing back already? And where’s Tree?”

  Fran shook her head and moved from side to side the way she was prone to do when she was remembering something unpleasant. “I had to go,” she said. “I couldn’t take that attitude of hers another second.”

  Trina, with an attitude? “What attitude?” Reno asked.

  “She’s a bitch on two legs when she’s like that, Reno. How is that my fault?”

  Reno stared at his sister. Sometimes she seemed to respond to arguments that no-one ever made. “What?”

  “I couldn’t deal with it. I had to go. So I left her.”

  “You left her? Whatta you mean you left her?”

  “I left her. She kept on saying, ‘if you don’t leave me alone,’ so I left her alone. I continued shopping at the mall by myself and when I went searching for her afterwards, I didn’t see her. So I got my goodies, got in my car, and came back to the PaLargio. I came back home.”

  Reno couldn’t believe his ears. “Are you telling me that you just left my wife at some gotdamn mall like that?”

>   “Yeah, I left her,” Fran said which prompted Reno to immediately pull out his cell phone. “She’s no baby, Reno. She knows how to catch a cab.”

  “It ain’t about her catching no gotdamn cab,” he said as he pressed the icon for his wife’s cell phone number and waited for her phone to ring. “You know what went down in Georgia. I don’t know if there’s somebody out there who wants retaliation. I didn’t want her going anywhere by herself, and you know it. That’s why your ass was supposed to go with her.”

  “But how’s that my fault? She’s the one who hates bodyguards. She’s the one who won’t let anybody follow her.”

  “And that’s why you went with her, nut brain. Because she preferred you to any bodyguard.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right.”

  Reno shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder if there’s a brain in your head, Francine,” he said.

  And naturally, he thought angrily, Trina’s cell phone shot straight to voice mail. Trina was notorious, to Reno’s dismay, for keeping her cell phone turned off.

  He grabbed his suit coat from over the back of his chair and began heading for the exit. “Come with me, Jimmy Mack,” he said to his son. If he needed a second pair of eyes looking around that mall for his wife, he wouldn’t trust anybody at this point except Jimmy Mack.

  “Call Security,” he ordered Fran. “Find out if Trina requested a car. If she did, tell Danno to call me.”

  “Where are you going?” Fran asked him.

  “Where did you leave her?” he asked her.

  “At the mall.”

  “Where at the mall, dumbass?”

  Fran resented her brother’s put-downs, but she didn’t argue with him. She knew she had to remain vague. “Just at the mall,” she said. “She was window shopping. She didn’t go into none of the stores. That’s why she was getting on my nerves because she really wasn’t shopping. And she kept saying ‘if you don’t leave me alone.’ So I left her alone.”