Mob Daddies: A Contemporary Romance Box Sex

by Alexa Hart

  Summer

  As if this day couldn’t get any more surprising and confusing, after the ceremony Kane and Maddie take me back to their house, a cute little brownstone in Edison Park. I was expecting a warehouse or some cold, dreary little apartment full of punching bags and leaky pipes, but this house is small and charming. True, when we walk inside it is obvious Kane doesn’t care much for interior design. The place has that odd masculine energy--no photos anywhere and the hardwood floors are bare of rugs and the living room couch empty of accent pillows. Still, it is clean and well-maintained. Maddie eagerly gives me a tour, showing off her most recent art project hanging on the fridge. The first floor is a living room, a small dining room that looks mostly unused, and a kitchen. The upstairs is Maddie’s room, Kane’s room, a bathroom, and thankfully, a little spare room that will surely become mine.

  Maddie announces she is starving and Kane orders us all a pizza. He’s seemed angry since the wedding, well, he’s seemed angry since I first threw that cookie tin at him, and I guess he has a right to be. I mean, he didn’t ask for this arrangement any more than me, and he clearly doesn’t like me much and now I’m totally invading his and Maddie’s space. And maybe I am as prissy as he thinks since I expected so little from him and keep being surprised. The gold ring feels heavy and tight on my finger. I’m still in my wedding dress and I excuse myself to change. Kane leads me back up the stairs with my suitcase in hand, but instead of going into the spare room he takes me straight to his bedroom. The room, which I didn’t look in when Maddie gave the tour, is pure male energy. Grey slate sheets and a dark blue blanket crumpled up near the foot of the bed. A few coins and random items, including an unopened condom, are out on the dresser. Everything about the room makes me think of Kane, of what Kane could do to me in that rumpled inviting bed. My stomach flip flops.

  “Um,” I back up a step. “I thought I would stay in the spare room.”

  Kane shakes his head. “I’m not letting Maddie lie any more than she has to if she gets called to testify at a court hearing,” he puts the suitcase down. “We sleep together.”

  “But she knows we aren't ...and the contract…,” I say, almost a whimper. My eyes dart to the bed. I bite my lip and try to remember my imaginary stable and safe boyfriend in Oxford. The man I really want. Not like the jerks who wouldn’t call Becca back after they slept with her, who treated her like dirt. Not...Kane.

  “Don’t worry, Princess,” he says. “I don’t have any interest in violating your precious contract. We’ll just sleep. The bed is comfortable. And plenty big.”

  “Just ...sleep” I repeat, trying to shake my disappointment at how easily and certainly he stated this. I mean, I had quite a few boys in college want to date me. I’m not exactly hideous, so why does he act like I’m covered in mud? Shouldn’t it be as hard for him to be in bed with me as it is for me to be with him? My attraction is gone, or at least, good and smothered by the hurt and anger I feel. Fine! Great!

  He starts toward the door and I kick myself for needing his help when all I want is to kick him until he begs for mercy.

  “Wait,” I say.

  He turns around.

  “I need help with the back of the dress,” I say. I lift my long hair and twist it over my shoulder. “The buttons,” I say. “Please.”

  Kane closes the door and comes over to me. I can feel his breath on my neck as he leans down, and his warm fingers graze the back of my neck in a way that makes me sigh. I think he hears it because he lets his fingers linger against my skin while his other hand slowly unfastens the buttons. He lightly traces his fingers down the exposed skin as each button comes undone. He undoes all the buttons down my back so that the dress begins to fall down across my breasts, and I have to hold it up with suddenly trembling hands. When he finishes the last button, his fingers now torturously close to the top of my silk panties, he leans in, whispering in my ear. “All set, Princess?”

  I lean back against him and his arms drop and tighten around my own, strong but not painful. His voice, like the rest of him, makes me as weak as I have ever been, but in the best way. I turn my face and our mouths are so close to each other. He’s still angry but I wonder if it matters. If it still wouldn’t be delicious to reach up just a little and let his passion free, and mine too. I bet he kisses a million times better than any Oxford student.

  “The contract…” I begin, nearly ready to rip the damn thing up. His eyes flare and his strong arms push me away like he just caught himself about to touch a live wire.

  “Don’t worry, Princess. I told you already, I’m not interested.” He says again, cooler this time. “I don’t like your type.”

  “My type?” I say, turning around. My arms hold the unbuttoned dress up over my chest. “Why the heck do you keep saying that. I’m not a type!”

  “Yeah, you’re the type that says heck instead of hell,” he frowns. “The kind who doesn’t even jaywalk.”

  “It’s dangerous,” I say, grumpily.

  “The kind that just wants to bring the bad boy home to scare their mommy and daddy.” The mention of parents makes me feel like I’ve been slapped, and as soon as he says it, he looks remorseful. “Summer, I didn’t mean…”

  “Don’t ever, ever talk about my parents again,” I say coldly. I’m not really sure why it got to me, except that everything about Kane seems to get to me. “And for the record, they liked everyone, always! No matter how big an asshole they were! That was the type of people they were.”

  Kane stares at me. “I am an asshole,” he says.

  “Finally, we agree on something!” I say.

  “And I’m sorry.” His voice is so soft, and kind, that I look up and meet his eyes. They are gentler than they have been. He looks truly pained by what he said. “I’m used to being ...too rough when it comes to protecting Maddie. This whole thing is hard for me.”

  “It’s okay,” I whisper again. Our eyes are still on each other. I’m still basically holding the wedding dress up above my chest so it doesn’t fall off my body and I wonder even then if I should let it. Kane is looking at me with such tenderness, I start to let the dress slip but he growls at me.

  “Don’t,” he orders.

  I freeze, my blood going from hot to cold with his command.

  From downstairs, the doorbell rings and thankfully shatters the moment. Maddie calls up the stairs, “pizza’s here, Dad!”

  Kane breaks his impenetrable stare and I wobble just a little, but hopefully not in any way he can notice.

  “Get dressed and come down when you’re ready,” he says, his voice detached. And just like that, he’s out the door. I sit down on the bed, still holding the dress up to cover my chest. Did I really just kind of throw myself at him and did he really shoot me down? Sure, he’s sexy as hell and probably is used to having women lose their minds around him. Women a lot more experienced and a lot less emotional than me. I reach for a pillow and cover my face with embarrassment. I bet he’s laughing right now at how all he did was press a few fingers against my back and apologize for being a jerk and I was ready to lay down in his bed like a love-starved virgin, which, I sigh, I guess I am. Just a married virgin and probably the only married woman in the world who isn’t losing her virginity on her wedding night to her super sexy husband. I get dressed in jeans and my frumpiest sweatshirt before I head downstairs. Maybe if I don’t feel sexy, I’ll stop thinking so much about sex.

  At the dining room table, Kane looks indifferent. Like frumpy or sexy he doesn’t see me at all unless he wants to. Well, fine, I feel my neck bristle as we eat our pizza and Maddie chatters on happily, I don’t care. Two can play this game of not wanting the other. I vow not to forget myself around him again. There will be no more mistakes like earlier. Ever.

  After dinner, Maddie asks me to get her ready for bed and read her a book. I look at Kane and he nods curtly. I take Maddie’s hand and she leads me up to her room where we spend an inordinate amount of time deciding between her pink unicorn paj
amas or her purple unicorn ones. We settle on purple. She’s got a bookshelf full of good books, some of my favorites, and I am once again sent spiraling into confusion as to how the same man who smashed up my uncle’s bakery and just rejected me so thoroughly can also have taken the time and love to make sure Maddie has all this. He’s like two different people, but who is he really? I remind myself that even monsters have soft spots for the ones they love, and he’s likely more the brute who makes a living terrorizing people than the gentle giant who buys his daughter The Secret Garden, which is the book we settle on for the night. By chapter three she is fast asleep and I turn off the small pink lamp near her bed and run a hand over her face, moving the hair from her eyes. Looking at her then, so peaceful and innocent, I can see why even a brute could be tamed by such a sweet child.

  As I tiptoe out of the room, I head towards the spare room, hoping I can avoid Kane. If Kane doesn’t want Maddie to have to lie about us staying in separate rooms then I’ll just go to bed after Maddie and wake up before her. She’ll never know and I won’t risk humiliation again by being so weak-willed in the presence of Kane’s muscular body and handsome scowl. As I open the door to the spare room though, Kane pops his head out of his own bedroom and stares at me. He is shirtless and wearing only sweatpants that hang a little loose at his hips, revealing a perfect six-pack shadowed beneath his tattoos. I have never before in my life wanted more to trace my hand against black ink. Shoot!

  “What do you think you are doing?” he asks.

  “I….”

  He shakes his head. “You sleep in here. With me.”

  I nod and shuffle past him into the bedroom. “Can I...uh...borrow some PJs?” I say.

  He arches his eyebrows. “What about the little lace item you graced me with last night at the bakery?”

  “They were given to me as a joke. A very bad joke from my best friend.”

  “There wasn’t anything funny about that outfit,” he replies.

  I blush. He walks over to his dresser and pulls out a black t-shirt. He tosses it at me.

  “What about some pants?” I question.

  He shakes his head. “It’s hot in here at night. I don’t need you sweating next to me. You’ll be fine in that.”

  “Uh, okay,” I say. He turns off the lights and climbs into the bed. I change quietly and shyly in the corner. Even though it is pitch black I can feel his eyes on me and I know I could change in the bathroom, but I like his eyes on me.

  I climb into the bed and am careful to stay on my side. I set my glasses down on the bedside table and I feel him shift next to me and under the blanket I can feel his warmth so tantalizingly close. I think about running my hands across his chest, and then lower, maybe even slipping them under the waistband of his low-hanging, tantalizingly nearby sweatpants. I squeeze my legs and turn away from him.

  “Goodnight, Princess,” he growls as if he read my thoughts and isn’t pleased.

  “Goodnight, Kane,” I say.

  As I close my eyes, I pray to God he can’t hear how breathless I am just saying his name.

  Chapter 12

  Kane

  That first night, I barely slept a fucking wink. It didn’t help that I woke up with a hard-on and her cute little ass pressed up against me, completely oblivious to her torturing me with her body. I mean, she was fucking cuddling with me in her sleep and her mouth was a little cupid bow that was as tantalizing as it had been the night before when I’d helped her out off her wedding dress. Even though I swore off the goody-goody types, I might even have made an exception for her then, she was that fucking hot, except we’re stuck together for as long as this goddamn custody battle takes, and I won’t mess that up no matter what. Women who want more from me than I can give don’t last long around me and I need this to work. I can’t lose Maddie. And no temptation, no matter how creamy skinned and innocent, is going to get me to give in.

  That said, these last few weeks since she moved in have been a particularly brutal form of torture. Problem number one, her sexy fucking sleeping. Problem number two, Summer likes skirts, not tight and short and showing everything all at once, but the kind that gives you just enough to imagine, hell, to know, those legs would feel amazing wrapped around your waist and that her ass would fit perfectly in your hands. She likes heels too, and thin silk tops that outline and curve her perfect breasts. Maddie told me her nickname used to be “the librarian” because she was so shy. And when she wears the glasses, which I love, she looks like the sexiest, hottest little librarian I’ve ever seen, a fantasy I didn’t know I had until now. Problem three, and this shouldn't be a problem, but it is, she’s great with Maddie too. The fact that they get along so well just adds insult to the injury of her insanely hot, pert body. Julie is still gorgeous, but the way she treats Maddie makes her ugly as sin to me. I’ve never once been tempted to make the same mistakes as when I first met her. But Summer wakes up early to make Maddie breakfast and take her to school, then spends her days at the bakery and Maddie joins her after school to help out. I pick them both up and bring them home and Maddie is positively lit up with happiness. We have dinner together. The whole thing is good. Summer makes things good. And that is fucking dangerous as hell.

  Because of this, I’ve been going out every night, doing overtime, hell, double overtime, just to keep myself away when Summer is around. Danny Marino is thrilled, since I’ve collected a few debts we’ve been letting slide for years because the folks have been in hiding--but I’ve needed the chase, now that Summer’s supplying the adrenaline. If she’s sound asleep when I get home that is the only way I can manage to climb into bed and not touch her. If she knows she ends up spooning me every night she doesn’t say. Since it’s her violating the contract and not me, I’ll be damned if I’m going to tell her. Some forms of torture are worth it, though if this keeps up, I’ll need to break those wedding vows of mine with someone for some relief. Even though they’re fake and nothing in the contract says we can’t, I still feel like shit about it. Like it’s cheating. And the one I want is Summer.

  The other problem? She’s also taken to decorating the house. She bought what she described as a “throw pillow” and some rugs. She says the caseworker won’t believe our act unless she warms the place up a bit. The caseworker will be coming in a few days and the first visit will just be Summer and me, then Maddie will join later. I feel bad asking Maddie to lie, but she knows that sometimes we have to. To protect ourselves and what we love. Like every time I look at Summer as she walks around my house working hard to keep Maddie safe and I have to pretend I don’t want to throw her over the closest chair and fuck her senseless I pat myself on the back for being such an epic liar.

  Only, I can’t remember exactly what I’m trying to protect in those moments. Her, or me?

  Chapter 13

  Summer

  The last few weeks have been a new form of hell. First, Kane has been avoiding me ever since the night he first brought me home. I don’t blame him. I woke up that first morning and I had shoved my butt up against him like a...well, not in a way that anyone would describe as prissy, that’s for sure. And every night it’s been like that. My body is just...drawn to his. And while during the day I can usually manage to steer clear of him and his magnetic body, at night my body does what my brain has been talking me out of. So much for the contract! I’m the one that’s breaking it! He must hate it because he’s been coming home later and later and sometimes sleeping on the couch in front of the television instead of even coming up to bed. I don’t blame him. And the whole thing is humiliating. The only positive of this whole crazy situation is Maddie. She’s really blossomed at the bakery. She and Poppy, the teenager with the iPhone addiction, run the counter and I’ve been baking in the back. We’ve already seen a big uptick in customers and Angelo hasn’t been around. Rudy will be home from the hospital in a few weeks and how I’ll explain all this to him, I’m not sure. I’ve been avoiding Becca’s texts and video calls too. When she finds out what
I’ve done, she’ll fly back from England just to murder me, I’m sure of it. I’m finding denial to be a really useful method of coping these days.

  Even today begins like every other past day of Kane and I going through the same excruciating routine of attraction and avoidance. I wake up to myself grinding on Kane’s body and sneak out of bed humiliated and embarrassed before he can wake up to catch me. I take a very cold shower to regain my senses. I make Maddie and I breakfast then walk Maddie to school and after that, I head to the bakery. Maddie comes to the bakery after school and we stay until Kane comes to get us at 5. I make dinner and then Kane usually leaves again for work. I go to bed and wake up when he comes home. I pretend I am not awake because I don’t want him to know how much his body makes me hyper-aware of his presence and how much better I sleep with him near me. Yeah, not something I want to share with the guy who spends all his energy avoiding me and thinks I’m a stuck-up snob. But tonight, when he tiptoes into the dark room just past three a.m., something is different.

  His usual routine is to come into the room, strip down and climb into bed. Tonight, he seems to be struggling taking off his shirt. I hear him swear under his breath. He sounds, well, in pain. I don’t know what comes over me, a common theme when I am around him, but I know I can’t stand the sound of him hurting. I turn on the light next to the bed and sit up. I’m still wearing his old t-shirt.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  He turns around and I can see that he is not okay. He’s got a nasty cut down his upper arm and he’s holding his wadded-up shirt against it to stop the bleeding.

  “Oh, my God,” I say.

  “Shh,” he growls. “Don’t wake Maddie.”

  I go over to him and look at the wound more closely. It’s deep but I don’t think he needs stitches. “Do you have a first aid kit?” I ask.