Carter: A Mafia Billionaire Romance

by Shanna Handel

  Some things just can’t be unseen.

  I say, “Sasha, not another word until we are home.”

  She shoots me a look. I raise a brow. She retreats to her hiding spot in the back of the van amongst a stack of blankets. She crosses her arms over her chest. Her gaze goes to the kitten.

  I say, “John, take us home.”

  John looks at me and runs a hand through his hair. “This has to be done tonight, brother. I need the cash for first semester—five kids, five colleges, one Ivy League. I pulled a few strings to get late admission—it has to be cash.”

  “Let’s take Sasha home first.” I give her a long hard stare. “She can wait upstairs for me. You and I will come back out and finish.”

  He gives me an exasperated sigh. Not much he can say though—Mary’d pulled off far worse in her day. I’ve heard the stories. He says, “Fine. But this is going to cost us over an hour.”

  “I understand,” I say. I turn back in my seat, stare out the window. Before she could even ask, I growl, “No kitten.”

  There’s sniffling from the back of the van.

  John drops us off.

  I take her upstairs. She’s quieter than usual. I slide her plug in as quickly as I can. I want to stay with her, punish her, talk to her about what’s happened tonight. But John is waiting for me in the car on the street below, and we really need to be going. I put her to bed—she had an early class and I want her to get a good night’s sleep, albeit a bit uncomfortable with her plug considering the trouble she’d caused.

  I tell her we’ll be back late that night. That she and I will have our ‘little chat’ in the morning.

  I tell her that I love her. She lays silent under the covers. Brooding about the kitten, the sexism in our Village, I assume.

  Wishing I could stay, I leave.

  When I get home, she’s gone.

  * * *

  Sasha

  The wedding is off. I’m on a flight to Greece. I’m moving back home with my parents.

  I can’t breathe. Whenever I try to inhale, my chest aches so badly, tears burn in my eyes.

  It’s over. And this time, it’s for good.

  I’ve messed up. Royally. Like, Meghan Markle telling Kate Middleton that she should be the one to be the next queen and stealing the crown.

  I can’t come back from this.

  The look in John’s eyes when he saw me in the back of the van still makes me shudder. The tone in Carter’s voice when he spoke.

  They hate me.

  I can never be a Bachman wife.

  I’m just not cut from the right cloth.

  And I don’t want to keep putting Carter through my shit. It’s not fair to him. He should have a woman who knows her place. Stays at home where she’s safe, cooking casseroles.

  I know how his brother really feels about me. I saw it in his face. If Carter and I were to tie the knot, and anything were to ever happen to Carter, John would have to live with the burden of caring for me.

  I’d ruin his life.

  And everyone knows how Bronson feels about me. He doesn’t even try to hide his disdain.

  Through the course of trying to adhere to the Bachman lifestyle, I’ve become much less self-centered. I’ve been working on my stubborn streak. Become aware of my tendency to be selfish and improved upon that as well.

  Last night, lying in bed and waiting for Carter, I thought of how forgiving he was. I’d just made him look like a fool in front of his brother and you know what he did? Well, after he put that dreaded plug in me.

  He tucked the covers around my shoulders. He smoothed my hair back from my forehead. He kissed me.

  He told me he loves me more than anything in this world.

  And I feel the same way about him.

  And now, I finally know what real love looks like.

  You sacrifice your wants. Your needs. For the other one.

  You want them so much that you are willing to do anything for that one person.

  Even if it means going without, yourself.

  And I will do that for him.

  I will finally show Carter the love he has shown me for years.

  I will do what is best for him.

  I will let him go.

  I stare out the window at the clouds. Tears stream down my cheeks. I don’t bother to wipe them away. I think the stewardess is asking me if I’m alright. I’m so frozen in my grief, I can’t be sure. I can’t reply. I can’t tear my gaze away from the sky.

  The miles between us grow further every moment.

  Things are finally as they should be.

  * * *

  Carter

  Sasha’s clever. But she doesn’t understand that I know her better than she knows herself.

  She never has.

  I know right where she’s going.

  And she has no idea, but she’s heading right toward my trap.

  Well, it wasn’t meant to be a trap. It was to be a glorious surprise.

  But now, it will have to be a trap.

  I just have a few calls to make, then I’ll be on a plane.

  * * *

  Sasha

  My parents worry for me. At first, they were both so excited to see me, chatting away in Greek. Kissing my cheeks, stroking my hair.

  Then they got a good look at my face.

  They sit in the living room beside me, wringing their hands. Staring at me. Worried expressions etched on their faces.

  They don’t know what to do with me.

  I don’t know what to do with myself.

  I just sit in the familiar leather armchair in the living room and stare out the window.

  All I can see is his face.

  The words of my letter run through my mind, haunting me. I made it short, brutal. So he won’t want to find me. I’ve no doubt that I’ve done the right thing. But it hurts all the same.

  Carter,

  I’m leaving.

  Don’t come after me.

  It’s over.

  I’ll never be Bachman.

  Sasha

  I haven’t slept. I haven’t showered. My mother constantly brings me foods: baklava, tzatziki, salads, stuffed olives—all my favorites.

  I haven’t taken a single bite.

  I’ve heard their whispered words. They are considering calling Carter. Their English is very limited. They have trouble communicating with him. But they don’t know what else to do.

  The morning the day after my arrival, I’m in my chair. I’m still wearing the same black workout outfit I’d changed into before I’d snuck to the airport. My hair is matted. My face streaked with tears.

  My mother sits beside me. Holding my hand. Worrying over me. They’ve never seen me like this. I’ve never been like this before—I’m a complete and total wreck. I know I’ve made the right choice, but it hurts so badly inside I almost wish I were dead.

  I look to my father. His gaze meets mine, heavy, sad. He has no comforting words for me, he’s run out of them. But we both know that I’ll be alright. That I’ll adjust to life back in Greece, here with my parents. That I’ll rekindle friendships from my past, and though none will be as strong as the ones in New York, I’ll move on.

  Here, where I can no longer hurt Carter.

  There’s a knock at the door.

  I knew the nosy neighbors would eventually get word I was here. That’s the way of the village. But I thought I’d have a bit more time. That my parents would hold them off for a few days at least.

  My father opens the door. I don’t even bother looking to see who it is. I continue to stare out the window. A breeze blows, rustling the leaves of my parents’ olive tree. I ignore my parents’ hushed whispers.

  Then I hear another voice.

  I must be delirious. It’s been days since I’ve slept more than a few hours.

  I turn to look over my shoulder.

  Carter stands in the entryway of the room. His eyes are soft. Kind. Smiling. Full of joy and of love.

  He’s dressed in
a tux.

  I must be dreaming.

  Since it’s not real, I allow myself to smile despite my sadness.

  He speaks softly. The joy turns to pain as he looks me over. “Hey there, baby girl.”

  He moves toward me, as one would a wounded animal.

  He kneels before me.

  I can smell his familiar scent: cologne and Carter.

  I reach out. I put my hand on his shoulder. My brow creases. I feel flesh and muscle and warmth.

  He’s real.

  “Carter?”

  “Baby.” His arms are around me. I don’t know how it happens, but suddenly, he’s the one in the chair and I’m in his lap. My face in buried in his chest.

  I’m clutching his collar. I’m sobbing.

  He’s shushing me. Stroking my hair, my back. Whispering, “Baby girl, I love you so much.”

  I melt into him. He wraps his arms tighter around me.

  My eyes close.

  I cry myself to sleep in his arms.

  * * *

  Carter

  Seeing Sasha in that chair—it shattered my heart.

  The poor thing was a wreck. Her skin pale, dark circles beneath her bloodshot eyes. Her hair was limp. Her body was limp.

  Her spirit was gone. Vanished.

  When she saw me, she looked as if she’d seen a ghost. A tiny smile came to her lips. Then she sobbed herself to sleep in my arms.

  I’ll have to let everyone know—my plans will need to wait. She needs time to recover.

  I’m sure they will all be fine with the delay. The beaches here are paradise compared to what we have at home. They’ll entertain themselves until it’s time.

  When Sasha wakes, I make her eat. I take her to the bathroom. I peel off both of our clothes, crowd us into her parents’ tiny bath. I shower her. I shampoo her long hair. I massage the fatigue and grief and sadness from her body.

  I take her to bed, her hair still wet. I lay her naked body down on top of the covers.

  I lay above her, holding my weight on my elbows. Now that she’s slept and eaten, it’s time to talk.

  I kiss her forehead.

  I kiss her eyelids.

  I kiss her earlobes.

  I whisper into her ear.

  I love you.

  I’m nothing without you.

  There is no me without you.

  We all have weaknesses.

  Ours complement one another’s perfectly.

  You were born to be with me.

  You were born to be Bachman.

  She freezes. Every muscle in her body tenses.

  She says, “No. I’m not. I know it. You know it, John knows it, Bronson knows it.”

  “All we know is what a strong woman you are. And how much we love you and want you in our family,” I say.

  “But the way John looked at me. He thinks you’d be better without me.”

  “He doesn’t want me to have to live a minute without you,” I say. And it’s true. Even if she can’t see it through his brash nature. “John is a secret softie and a romantic.”

  She says, “But you broke up with me once before, because I couldn’t hold up my end of the deal. This time I really screwed up. I just knew you’d be better off—”

  I feel a tightening in my chest, remembering that night, the night she denied me and I left the house for her to collect her things. I stop kissing her collarbone. I say, “Sasha, I asked you if you wanted to live the Bachman lifestyle. You said I’d have to find a way to live without you, that you’d never give your submission. I didn’t break up with you because you made a mistake. Essentially, you broke it off with me when you chose no. That day, in my office, when you came to me, when you asked me to take you back, when you told me that you would give me the gift of yourself, that’s when we truly started our lives together. And there’s no giving up or running away. And there’s certainly no me being better off without you.”

  She sniffles. She dabs at her eyes. “There’s not?”

  “No, baby girl. You’re stuck with me.”

  A tiny smile appears on her lips. My heart wells. I say, “And we are going to make this thing legal. And permanent. And Bachman. Before all the eyes of our family.”

  Her brows raise. “You still want to marry me? Even after everything I put you through?”

  “Yes. Sasha—I want to marry you. Today, in fact.”

  Her face scrunches. Adorable. “But... how? Our family isn’t here. It’s just us. And my parents.”

  “Remember when I told you we were going on our honeymoon before our wedding? I believe we were scheduled to leave just hours after you took off.”

  “Yes, so?”

  “It wasn’t a surprise honeymoon I had planned. I couldn’t bear the thought of you having your wedding at the gym. And not having your parents present. And I know they can’t fly. So, instead of a honeymoon, with a little help from the Beauties, we planned a wedding. Here in Greece. This week.”

  “The Bachmans are here?”

  “Almost all of them. Bronson and Paige are still on their honeymoon, and a few others had to stay behind to keep things in order, but otherwise, they’re all here. Shopping, beaching, eating. Waiting for me to say the word.”

  She’s shocked.

  “Then we head off to our real honeymoon on our family private island—it’ll be your first chance to go, as an official wife of the family, but I’m afraid it will be a short vacation. We’ve got to get home to Squish.”

  “Squish?”

  “Your kitten. I named him after we almost ran him over for the second time that night. I brought him home for you and he’s there, now. Tess wasn’t up for a wedding, and ah... Rockland’s stationed here so he’ll be at the ceremony. I think she’s avoided crowds, avoiding him. She was more than happy to stay home and care for Squish till we get back.”

  She stares at me for a long time. Then she grabs my face in her hands and kisses me. She says, “Carter, there’s no one like you in this world, is there?”

  I shrug. “I have no idea. But I know one thing.”

  “What?”

  “There are certainly no other women like you, baby girl.”

  We kiss. It’s a kiss of love and loss and passion. I feel it from the hairs on my head to the depths of my core. The kind of kiss you never, ever forget. When we part, I stare into her eyes. I stroke her hair back from her forehead. The love I feel for her wells in my chest, making it seem as though my heart will burst.

  We’re both still nude from the shower. Our warm skin presses against one another—reunited. My fingers trail over her shoulder, her collarbone. Over her tight little nipples. I stroke her soft, small breasts. I cup them in my hands.

  Perfect fit.

  She watches me. Her soft eyes gazing, filling with desire.

  My fingertips trail over her ribs. Her belly. The little hairs on her arms stand. Goosebumps dot her flesh. I run them over her soft curls.

  She sighs. Her eyelids close.

  My fingers slide between her folds. She’s wet and slippery. Just feeling her makes my cock get hard. It presses against her thigh. Telling her how badly I want her.

  I dip my finger within her, gather her juices. Gently, I rub circles around her swollen bud. Her breaths become heavy. Her hips begin to move. God, I love when she gyrates against my hand like this—taking every ounce of pleasure she can get. I rub harder. Over her bud, then down lower. Fingering her sweet pussy.

  Her nipples tighten. Her head arches back. Her hand goes to her breast.

  Beautiful.

  I move harder, faster. Her breaths quicken. Her pelvis presses toward me. Her muscles tense. Her lips open and she whispers my name. “Oh, Carter. I’m going to come.”

  I smile, moving my fingers exactly how she likes. Drawing the orgasm from her body. Her back arches, she cries out. Her body is racked with shudders. Her eyes pop open and she looks at me, surprised at the force of her climax.

  Her hands go to my shoulders. Her fingers dig into my fle
sh. Take me, now.

  I need no further instruction.

  I find her entrance, pressing the head of my cock against it. She’s so wet. So ready.

  So tight.

  A little gasp of painful pleasure escapes her as I press into her. One hard thrust fills her with the length of my cock. Her pussy clenches around me. I give a groan. “Damn, baby girl. You feel so good.”

  She lifts her hips, welcoming me.

  I stop.

  Her hands go to the sides of my face. There are tears brimming in her eyes. Her lower lip is trembling.

  “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “I’m just so glad... you came here. That you ignored my note. That you want to marry me after all...” Her words trail off and she breaks my gaze. A single tear trails down her cheek.

  “After all the joy you’ve brought into my life?” I ask. “The smiles, the laughs... the sex.” I pull back. She whimpers to find me no longer inside her. Slowly, I press back in. Harder this time.

  Her tears are gone. Her eyes are closed. She murmurs, “Kiss me.”

  I do. I kiss her with the love and passion I felt for her when we were first dating. When we were first discovering one another’s bodies. The passion that’s strengthened over time, through shared experience. Our tongues tangle. She tastes of Sasha. It makes me want her so badly, I can’t hold back.

  One hand goes behind her neck, cradling her head. The other winds behind her back. Keeping us joined, I pull her up toward me. I’m on my knees and she’s got her legs wrapped around my waist. Our bellies press together as we kiss. Her hips start to move. She’s going up, slowly, then comes crashing down on my cock. I want to explode. Instead, I tangle my fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck. Pull softly.

  She moans. Her pussy tightens and clenches around me. I know neither one of us will last long—we’re too emotionally charged after what’s happened. Albeit brief, I know this is one of the most magnificent experiences of my life.

  I’m kissing her neck. Her breaths quicken. She rises up, comes down. Up and down. Riding me. I grab her hips. My fingers dig into her flesh, her ass cheeks.

  She loves that.

  She starts to ride faster, breathe heavier. She’s moaning, she’s whimpering. Her legs are tightening around my waist. I thrust harder, faster. Her pussy is like a vise, clenched onto my cock, milking it for my seed.