Mafia Sins: The Mafia Romance Collection

by Bella King

  “Don’t,” I reply. I don’t want to deal with his foolishness now. I’m too sleepy to think straight, and he looks way too good in the low light of the fire.

  The flames flicker a delicious orange against his skin, and for the first time, I start to feel aroused by his presence. Maybe it’s the thrill of the run, but I feel considerably closer to him than when we met earlier today. He said that he’s starting to like me, and I think I’m feeling the same toward him, though I would never admit it.

  Devin slides his pants off, revealing a small pair of black boxers underneath.

  “What are you doing?” I squeak, not expecting him to start stripping like that in front of me.

  “Relax, darling. I’m not getting all the way naked,” he says, now sliding into the sleeping bag. He pats the top of it. “Get in.”

  I squint at him, suspicious of his intentions. “I’m not going to take my clothes off, though,” I say, standing with my arms crossed.

  “I never asked you to,” he replies.

  “But I don’t like sleeping in my clothes either,” I say.

  Devin leans back and places his hands beneath his head, expanding his chest in the air. He gazes up at the sky, ignoring me so that I can make my decision.

  I sigh. There’s probably no harm in being comfortable, but I’m keeping my bra and panties on. He’s not going to get that pleasure from me. I’m not into him.

  I pull down my shorts, keeping my eyes glued to Devin in case he tries to peek at me. He keeps his head tilted back, looking up at the stars in the navy sky while I fold my shorts and pull off my dirty checkered shirt. I feel like I should be wearing matching underwear, but I wasn’t expecting to be seen like this. Maybe if I get into the bag fast enough, he won’t see.

  My hands instinctively go for the clasp in the back of my bra, even though I don’t intend to take it off. I even unhook one of the clasps before I stop myself. Unfortunately, this is exactly when Devin decides he wants to look at me.

  “Woah, putting on a show for me?” he asks as I jerk my hands away from my bra.

  “No,” I blurt defensively.

  “Don’t let me interrupt you. You can remove the bra,” he says, a cocky grin stretching across his face.

  Ugh, he thinks I’m doing this for him. He thinks that I’m trying to be sexy for him, but dammit, I just want to go the hell to sleep. My bra is halfway unhooked, and I’m standing in front of him in my panties for him to enjoy. This isn’t how I wanted things to go.

  “You know what? Fine,” I say, unhooking the final clasps on the back of my bra and shrugging it off. I drop it in the sand beside my shorts. My breasts are released into the cool night air, and my nipples grow stiff immediately. I’m already regretting this.

  “Damn,” Devin says, staring at my tits like he’s never seen a pair before in his life.

  “Are you done?” I ask, planting my hands on my hips.

  “Not yet,” he says, his eyes wide with delight. “Maybe do a little bounce for me.”

  I groan and stomp toward him. He watches me with equal amusement and arousal as I come to the sleeping bag. This was a stupid idea, but now I have to live with it. At least I’m not completely naked, but my panties aren’t exactly covering much. Women’s underwear tends to be that way.

  “Move over,” I grumble as I slip into the bag with him, using my elbows to gain adequate space.

  “Ouch! Stop elbowing me,” he says, pushing my arms away and trying to scoot closer.

  “Then get out of my way,” I say, turning over so that my back is facing him.

  He turns to spoon me and places an arm over my side.

  “Get off,” I say, but I don’t have the willpower to argue with him anymore. I’m already half-asleep.

  Devin doesn’t move his arm. He pulls me close to him and presses his chest into my back. It’s warm and rather pleasant with how chilly it is outside, and as long as he doesn’t try to touch my breasts, I’ll let him spoon me. It’s for warmth and nothing else.

  I fall asleep quickly, cuddled up with the man of my nightmares by the fire in the middle of the desert. We have a long journey ahead of us, and there has already been so much that has happened. Tonight, we rest. Tomorrow, we continue onward, regardless of what may come.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I’m pretty sure that I ate at least three spiders while I was sleeping.

  I wake up with an open mouth so dry that I’m surprised it isn’t riddled with cracks like the surrounding earth. The sun is barely up, but when you’re sleeping outside, your body wakes up faster in the morning. I can feel the energy of a new day in my bones.

  I’m alone, and that sucks. I don’t know where Devin has gone, but I miss him in the sleeping bag. His warmth was divine throughout the night, and I woke up a few times, just to snuggle closer to him. I shouldn’t be doing this, but I got a lot of pleasure from his touch, and I need to take the edge off all this terror that I’ve been through lately.

  I sit up, looking around for him. My smack my lips, trying to get the saliva flowing in my mouth again. I have a habit of sleeping with my mouth open, but doing it in the desert is just inviting trouble. My mouth is dusty, and I can feel the grit on my teeth.

  I spot Devin by the car, cleaning his rifle like my father used to do on the porch. He used to sit out there when he got older, rocking in his chair outside with his gun so that I felt safe sleeping. The sounds of the coyotes used to scare me, even as an adult. I’ve made peace with them since then.

  I like to watch Devin cleaning his rifle. He’s paying a lot of attention to it, and I can tell it’s well maintained. His fingers are nimble and swift on the parts, and I start to wonder what else those hands are capable of.

  He looks over at me and flashes a charming smile. I slip out of the sleeping bag and stand up, only now realizing that I’m not wearing a shirt. That’s probably what he’s smiling about, come to think of it.

  I walk over to my clothes and grab my shirt from the ground. I have to shake the dust out of it, but it doesn’t smell too bad. I guess the night air probably drew some of the sweat smell out of the fabric, but I still desperately needed a shower and a change of clothes. Devin had mentioned something about that last night.

  As I put on my shirt, Devin walks over to me, putting his gun back in the car on the way. “Did you sleep well?” he asks.

  I shrug. “It was alright. What about you?”

  “Oh, I slept great, but my cock was hard all night with the way you were rubbing your ass on it,” he says, shocking me with his words.

  I wake up quickly from his statement. “You’re a pervert. I didn’t do that,” I say, trying to save my dignity from this awful man.

  “You did, and you’re lucky I didn’t cum all over your ass with the way that you were moving,” he says, his smile turning more arrogant by the second.

  Devin is still a moron. Duly noted.

  I shake my head at him and step into my shorts, pulling them up high on my waist. “I would never do that, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t rub your dick on me while I slept either. That’s terribly rude.”

  He held up his hands and took a step back, mocking me again. “Woah, I’m not the one who was doing all the touching last night. I was trying to keep some distance between us, but you didn’t want any of that.”

  “I was cold.”

  “So, you admit it.”

  “No,” I reply, folding my arms across my chest and turning my head away from him.

  He chuckled, then walked to the sleeping bag and began rolling it up.

  “I need my water from the car,” I say.

  “It’s unlocked,” he replies.

  “You need to untie me first,” I say, holding out my bound hands.

  “Right.” Devin places the rolled bag under his arm and walks up to me, loosening up the knots that hold my hands together. He takes his time with it, like before, running his fingers across my arms more times than is necessary.

  I jerk my h
ands away from him the second they come loose. “Thanks,” I snap, then I turn away and walk to the car. My mouth is begging me for water.

  I pull open the car door, bending over and fishing around for my bottle of water. There’s another apple on the floor, so I pick it up, intending to eat that after I quench my thirst. I’m aware that Devin can see my ass very well in this position, but after last night, I’m not sure that I care. Let him look.

  I pop the lid off my water bottle after retrieving it and gulp down the remainder of the water inside. There’s a considerable amount, but I’m thirsty enough to finish it off. Once I’m done, I turn back around to find that Devin has packed everything up and is heading back to the car. There’s no trace that we ever spent the night here.

  “There should be a river a few hours from here,” Devin says, opening the back door. “We need to find it.”

  “I’d look it up for you if you didn’t throw my phone out the window,” I reply.

  Devin pulls out a rolled-up map from the backseat of the car. “Sorry, but we’re doing this the old-fashioned way. You know those phones track you, right?”

  “I don’t have anything to hide,” I reply smugly, crossing my arms.

  He chuckles. “Right, but I do, so we’re not using one. I don’t have a phone either. I have a map and a brain.” He taps the side of his head as though that makes him smart.

  “So wise,” I say mockingly. Anyone can use a paper map, but they’re not convenient. It would be a lot easier to get to Canada is he hadn’t stolen millions of dollars from the Mexican cartel.

  Devin rolls the map against the hood of the car and runs a finger along the road that we’re on, his eyes focused and serious. I admire the way his face looks while he studies the roads and rivers on the paper. I can’t help but be attracted to his features, though his attitude still gets to me.

  The sun is coming up quickly, and I can feel the heat starting to rise with it. Temperatures change quickly in the desert, and it’s going to be another scorcher of a day. I hope the car has enough gas to keep the AC turned all the way up. We’re going to need it.

  “Okay, so it should be two hours before we get to the river,” Devin says, rolling up the map and tucking it under his arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I nod, opening my door and jumping into the leather seat of the red Mustang. I can see that the pristine white has already turned a light brown from the amount of dust I dragged into the car, and I feel a small pang of guilt over it. That vanishes when I realize how much money Devin has with him. He can replace that whole car if he wants to.

  “I’m also going to run through the gas station after we get cleaned up. I expect you to behave yourself, or I’m going to put you in the trunk,” Devin says as he starts the car.

  “Don’t even joke about it,” I warn. “I’m not going back in there.”

  “Then behave.”

  I shrug. “Sure.”

  Devin drives slowly back to the road and reenters onto the dusty asphalt. There’s no sign of any other cars, and we haven’t passed any since the shootout with the cartel down the road. I wonder if anyone has even found the bodies yet. Devin left quite the mess out there.

  “So, do you like working at the drive-in?” Devin asks, turning the dial to the AC all the way up.

  Cool air blasts into my face as I take my braids out to redo them. I have the mirror down, and I can see how messy I look. I laugh at his question. “Who actually enjoys working at a drive-in?”

  “I guess some people do,” he says with a shrug.

  “Well, I’m not one of them,” I reply.

  “So, why were you working there?”

  I separate the hair into two even parts over my shoulders and take one of them to start braiding. “I can’t pay my rent without a job. I’d like to get out of it, but I can’t just cancel my lease without warning. I’ll get fined for it.”

  “Lame,” Devin replies. “I would just skip town.”

  “I guess that’s what I’m doing now,” I say. “But that wasn’t my intention.”

  “I know, but fuck them, right? I mean, you should live your life. Not be locked down to some lease you don’t even want, running around in the sun all day long for pennies.”

  “What should I do instead? Rob the cartel?” I ask.

  He laughs. “Maybe.”

  I shake my head, a smile on my face. “Not everyone is as daring as you are. Some of us prefer to play it safe.”

  “And look where that got you,” Devin replies.

  “At least I’m not the one going to prison when this is all over,” I point out.

  “I’m not going to prison.”

  “Um, hello? You killed two people and kidnapped me. You’re lugging around pounds of cocaine in your trunk. You’re definitely going to prison,” I say, finishing up the first braid and moving to the next one.

  “Then, I will have failed both my grandfather and myself. I’m not going to prison. I’ll go out shooting before that happens,” he says, his voice firm and steady. He’s serious about what he is saying.

  “Your grandfather?” I ask. This is interesting. He’s revealing something new.

  Devin nods then turns his head to me and gives me a fake smile. “I want to visit him. He’s expecting me.”

  “Expecting you for what?” I ask.

  “Just to chat,” Devin replies, turning his head back to the road ahead.

  “Oh, come on. You’re always so secretive about everything,” I say, getting annoyed with his games again.

  “That’s why I’m still alive. It pays to keep secrets.”

  “Not from me.”

  “Especially from you.”

  “I don’t see how I’m such a threat to you, Devin. You’re going to dump me on the border anyway. I already know who you are and what you’re doing,” I say, now finished with my braids.

  “Let’s talk about something else,” he replies.

  “Like what?” I ask, still a bit irritated, but willing to talk because I don’t want to be bored.

  “Like you. I was asking about your work, which you clearly don’t like. What about your family. How are they?”

  “My father died a little while ago, and I don’t talk to my mother anymore,” I explain. “There’s isn’t much to talk about in that regard.”

  “That’s rough,” he replies. “My parents are still alive and kicking, but I don’t talk to them anymore.”

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “Because they want me to be someone I’m not. They’ve been pulled so deep into the middle-class, mediocre, wage-slave lifestyle that they can’t see any other way to live. It’s all about getting an office job and rotting in a cubicle until retirement,” he says, bitterness infiltrating his voice with every word.

  “Some people just want to be comfortable,” I say, thinking about how my own father was much the same.

  “They can do whatever they want, but they’re so set on me doing the same that it makes me sick. I don’t stay in contact with them,” he says.

  “Do they know you’re a criminal?” I ask.

  “I’m not,” he replies.

  I’ve never seen such a strong case of denial in my life. Even my mother admitted to being ‘a bit tough’ with me when I was younger. Devin seems to think that he’s doing nothing that’s against the law.

  “You’re definitely a criminal, Devin,” I say, shaking my head.

  “You don’t know that. I mean, the cocaine in the back could be flour,” he replies.

  “Don’t be stupid,” I reply. “You shot people yesterday.”

  “Self-defense.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” he says, digging in. “The point is, I’m not as bad as you think I am. I’m just a regular guy trying to do the right thing.”

  I laugh. “I doubt that very much.”

  “You don’t understand,” he says.

  “Because apparently, you don’t want me to,” I say.

  “Are we just going
to have a normal conversation, or what?” he asks, wringing the steering wheel with his hands as we fly toward the northern border of Texas.

  I slouch in my seat and take a bite of the final apple I brought with me. “Fine. Tell me about your hobbies.”

  “Hobbies?”

  “Hobbies. Yes, hobbies. Tell me about them. Or, do you not have any besides kidnapping women and trying to get them to sleep with you,” I blurt out.

  Devin laughs. “Hey, you’re the one who took your tits out in front of me last night. I never asked you to do that.”

  “Whatever,” I spat, juices flying from my mouth.

  “I do have hobbies,” he says, relaxing his hands on the wheel. “I like to work on cars, for example. This is one of my project cars.”

  “It’s a nice car,” I admit.

  “Yeah, I bought it when I was younger, and I’ve been spending the past five years fixing it up. It probably runs better than it did now than when it was brand new.”

  “And you have more cars?” I ask.

  “I used to, but I had to sell them. Money was tight,” Devin says.

  “Not anymore, I guess,” I say, thinking about how much he has in the trunk.

  Devin laughs through his nose. “That’s right. I’m going to put a hell of an engine in this Mustang when I get across the border. Everything is going to be different then.”

  “Aren’t you afraid of getting caught there too?” I ask.

  “You all have to take risks,” Devin says. “Some people risk dying of boredom before they even reach the grave. I don’t see how it’s so different than dying from a cop or cartel’s bullet.”

  “So, you’re not afraid?”

  “I can’t say that. I just know that I’m doing what’s right,” he says, his voice displaying his confidence in the matter. He perks up. “So, enough about my car. What are your hobbies?”

  I swallow the bite of apple I was chewing. “I like to fly.”

  “Go got wings somewhere I didn’t see last night?” Devin asks with a grin.

  I scoff. “No, I want to fly planes. I’ve been up in the air a few times, but classes are expensive.”