by Nicole Fox
This doesn’t sound good. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” she says carefully. “It’s just ...” Lucy trails off thoughtfully. She has a faraway look on her face.
“Lucy.”
She doesn’t say anything as she pulls something from under the covers. She opens her hand and shows me what’s in her palm. I immediately recognize it as a pregnancy test.
There are two pink lines.
“Is this ...”
She nods. “It is. I’m pregnant.”
I’m at a loss for words.
I want to say something profound, or just something at all, but all I can do is look at the test in her palm. Those two lines. She’s pregnant. It hits me at once. First, the joy. She’s going to have my child. The family she’s always wanted. The family I never thought I would have.
Fear is second. What if I fuck this up? I told myself I would never bring a kid into this world and expose them to the shitty people that inhabit it. Too many people die. School shootings, kidnappings, sex slavery. I could never do that to another person. I could never run that risk.
But then the resolve comes last.
This is what I’ve wanted, deep down. This is it. I told Lucy I would give her anything in the world, and this is what she’s wanted for so long. I push myself up from the pillows and pull her into my arms, spinning her around. When she pulls back to look at me, she’s crying. She’s never been more beautiful.
“Fuck, Lucy,” I say, shaking my head. “I can’t believe this.”
“I can’t either!” She wipes her eyes and laughs. “I found out yesterday, but I didn’t know what to say. I was so scared you’d be upset.”
“Never. Never in a million fucking years.” I mean it, too. As fucking terrified as I am about this news, I know that she’ll be an amazing mother. She’ll give this kid all the love he or she deserves. We’ll make this work, I know we will.
I pull her in for a kiss, but it turns into multiple kisses. She giggles and kisses me back. “You taste like you,” she whispers against my lips.
“And you taste like you,” I reply. I roll on top of her. She lets out another giggle, but that disappears the moment she watches me move down her body.
She spreads her legs for me, rocking on her hips to help as I pull down her panties and push the shirt of mine she likes to sleep in up higher. I still can’t get enough of her body. I run my fingers through the small patch of hair just above her center, teasing her clit with a few nudges before I get started. She’s already soaking wet.
I drag my tongue in slow strokes over her pussy, listening to hear her reaction. It happens immediately. She lets out a soft groan and a hand falls to the back of my head. She doesn’t need to say anything. I got the message loud and clear.
I work my tongue against her again, harder this time. She tastes just as good as I remember, and I’m hungry for her. I lap at her, over and over, relishing in the noises she makes. She squirms beneath me too. I place both hands on her thighs and squeeze them, keeping her in place.
“Tell me this is mine,” I instruct her, looking up. She meets my gaze. Her face is flushed, pink across her nose and cheeks, and her eyes are wide.
“It’s yours, Roman,” she says. “It’s all yours.”
I could listen to her repeat that all day. It is mine. She’s mine, just like I’m hers. I kiss my way up to her clit, taking my time. I want her practically melting for me. I tease and flick it, even venturing to lightly tug with my teeth. It all makes Lucy whimper with pleasure. Her body grows warmer by the second.
When I work my fingers inside of her, her head falls back. “Fuck, yes, Roman,” she cries. Lucy squeezes at her breasts, twisting her nipples.
I can tell she’s getting close. The moment she starts playing with herself, I know that her orgasm is right around the corner. My tongue is relentless, with a mind of its own. Over and over and over, I taste her.
“I-I’m close,” she stutters.
I curl my fingers inside of her, rubbing against the spot I know that tears her to pieces. When I find her g-spot, she practically screams, that noise melting into a laugh. “Fuck, yes,” she whimpers, rutting her hips down against my fingers and tongue. “Yes!”
I feel her whole body vibrate as she comes, but I don’t pull away. I continue to eat her out, sloppy, greedy to taste every last drop of her juices. She squeezes my head with her thighs, and a deep animalistic groan rumbles in the back of my throat. Fuck, she’s sexy when she gets like this. When she stops playing nice and holds me in place, riding out her orgasm with me.
Finally, I sit back, wiping my mouth. Lucy begins to push herself up when I put my hand on her chest and press her back into the wooden table. “I’m not done yet,” I tell her.
Her eyes are wide for only a moment, then a darker look crosses her face. “What’s next?” she asks.
“I’m going to fill you up,” I tell her. Her bare foot drags down my chest, then back up, where she knocks against my chin.
“I wanna feel it all, Roman.”
I grab both of her legs and roughly part them, stepping between. “You will, baby. I promise.”
I free my throbbing cock, slapping it down on her hot pussy a few times. She bites down on her lip and spreads her legs wider. “Don’t tease,” she grins.
I take hold of myself and press into her deep, all at once. Her face contorts. She lets out a delicious moan, and I don’t give her a second chance to calm down before I slide out and bury myself inside her again.
“Jesus,” she cries, her back arching.
My movements are rough and quick. She wants to play naughty, and I’m going to give it to her that way. Her walls constrict around me, hot and wet, and I shudder, pressing my palms flat against the table.
Each thrust feels like heaven, and I hear our bodies connect every time. It’s a perfect fit, like two puzzle pieces. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” I grunt. I take hold of her dress and pull it up over her head, stripping her completely.
With her chest free, I lean in and suck on her nipples, using the same force and enthusiasm I used on her clit. Lucy takes me as best she can, a steady stream of moans and whimpers falling from her lips. She brushes the hair from my face and meets my gaze.
“Show me I’m yours,” she says.
As if I weren’t already fucking hard enough.
I put my hand on her neck. It brings me right back to that night in the motel so long ago. The first time I touched her. The first time she ever made me rock hard. That alone seems to be all she needs, because Lucy’s lips part and she slips a hand between the two of us.
I add just enough pressure to her throat, squeezing only a little. It’s enough. In mere seconds, she’s crying out again, making a mess on my cock once more.
Her second orgasm is what pushes me over the edge. Her entire body clenches, and the walls of her pussy practically drain my cock. I double over on top of her, cursing loud, thrusting powerfully between her legs. Lucy wraps her arms around me and grinds against me, both of us riding out this ecstasy together.
I haven’t come that hard in a long time.
Reluctantly, I slide out of her, but I don’t pull away. We stay like that, my weight on top of her, both of us panting.
Lucy reaches up and runs her hand through my hair, and I lean into it. Her hand cups my cheek, and she smiles up at me. “What do you want?” she asks. “Boy or girl?”
I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I’m still reeling from the news that she’s actually having a baby. “I don’t know,” I admit. “A girl would be nice. My mother only had boys.”
Lucy cracks a smile. “Mine only had a girl.”
“Do you only want one?”
“For now,” she says. “I don’t want to have to split my attention between two little monsters. With one, we can give them all our love and make them the center of our worlds. And then maybe down the line, we can have more.”
The idea of more than one kid scares and excites me.
Lucy was where my world stopped, but now there will be even more love to share. I can already see it all. The tiny clothes. Lucy designing the bedroom until it’s just perfect. Teaching the little tyke how to ride a bicycle and how to swim. How to hunt, like my father taught me.
It’s too sweet for me to handle. Who am I becoming? What happened to Roman the hitman? He’s still there, deep inside me, but he doesn’t come out as often anymore. He doesn’t need to, and I think that’s probably for the best. He’ll never be gone for good; the speed with which I grabbed the gun from the nightstand proves that beyond a shadow of a doubt. And there are some things I still need that side of me for.
To keep my family safe, first and foremost.
But I’m learning – slowly – that that doesn’t always require force. Brute strength and violence can keep you safe in this world, but they can also make things more dangerous. Those things change you when you let them. Hurting others can hurt yourself just as badly. I have only to close my eyes and picturing Konstantin’s ugly, twisted scowl to understand that the things we do are done to us, in a perverse sort of way. I have only to remember my family’s history to remember that violence stains forever.
I want to spare my child – or my children, rather – from ever having to go through what I went. I can never truly abandon the life I’ve led, but I can protect them from it all the same.
I couldn’t protect Lucy from it, not fully. But I can already see the shadows fading from her soul. A little bit more every day. Me, I’m scarred for life. And that’s fine. That’s what I chose. But she deserves better. Brighter. Freer.
I can give her that. I can give my children that. So that’s exactly what I’ll do. I’ll be the barrier between their light and the world’s darkness. I’ll protect them from the things they should never have to see. In that way, I can honor my past and embrace my future. I can make their world a good one to live in, full of laughter and love and the bright, shining eyes of their mother.
I look down at Lucy and know that I’ve made the right choices – for once in my life.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I chuckle, kissing her neck. “We’ll have as many as you want, but only if we get to keep practicing our technique on how to make them.”
She clings to me again, turning her head and exposing more of her neck to me. “Seems fair to me.” Then her tone changes to more serious. “You know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, right?” she asks.
I pull back and look into her eyes. She’s so full of hope and sunshine. My woman. My daisy.
“Yeah?”
“Yep. And in a few months, you’ll lose that role to this little thing.” Lucy places her hand on her bare stomach.
Slowly, I kiss my way down towards it. I press a longer kiss to her stomach. “I’m happy to give that up.” For this kid, I’d give up anything.
THE END
***
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Enjoy your free sneak preview of TRAPPED WITH THE MOB BOSS: A Mafia Romance by Nicole Fox.
I kidnapped her to break her. Now, I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her.
YURI
In this business, you cannot afford to lose control.
No emotions. No weakness.
I’ve worked too f**king hard building my mob empire to let one feisty little girl ruin everything.
But Bella refuses to fall in line.
I’ve pushed my prisoner to her limits, and yet she will. Not. Break.
She takes every savage kiss...
Every cruel touch...
And asks me if that’s all I have to offer.
Breaking her down will require breaking a rule of my own:
Never, ever fall in love.
But when Bella’s senator father doesn’t follow orders like we expect, things get more complicated.
I’ll need her help to take my rightful place on the throne of the city.
And more time with her by my side means unleashing something inside me that cannot be contained again.
As our fates become entwined, betrayal barrels towards us.
I’m forced to make an impossible choice:
Do I follow my destiny to become the mob boss I was raised to be?
Or do I sacrifice everything to save the woman who has stolen my heart?
Chapter One
Bella
Every paparazzi picture ever taken and printed of me shows me standing in front of luxury shoe stores or high-end clothing brands. Those are the pictures that sell. The ones the public likes to see. Regular people enjoy feeling like the upper class is far beyond their reach. As though we’re another species entirely. Alien. Remote. Untouchable. No one wants to see a senator’s daughter walking past Clip ’N Trim Haircutters on her way to a comic book store.
But that’s what I’m doing, and there’s no one around to document it. And surprisingly, no security, either. They often give me a wide berth when I’m in less occupied areas of town, but not being able to see them lurking behind me like muscular shadows is unusual, although I’m not complaining. I like feeling like a normal person. A person who hasn’t been on the cover of magazines and newspapers since she was a small girl, standing next to her smiling, suited father, an American flag pinned to his lapel. Without the hulks with headsets lingering around me, I could be anyone. Just a normal twenty-five-year-old girl.
Too bad that’s never going to happen.
But no matter how bad I wish I was normal, old habits die hard. I look over my shoulder for security and see a man walking behind me. He’s still a long way off, but even from a distance, I can tell he’s handsome. Devastatingly so. Toned body visible even under a hoodie, wide shoulders, well-groomed stubble covering a strong jaw. I’m considering slowing my pace to let him catch up, seeing how long I can keep up this “regular girl” routine before my security steps in to intervene, when my phone goes off.
My eyes bulge as intense rap music with lyrics about pounding women and licking private parts blares out of my purse. I scramble to grab my phone.
“Ivy.” I sound like a frustrated mother scolding her child.
She only laughs. “You like my new ringer? I set it last night. Family-friendly, don’t you think?”
“You are so lucky I’m alone,” I say, managing to hold in my laugh. I don’t want to encourage this behavior. The last time she called I was with my grandma, and she didn’t find my heavy metal ringtone to be “suitable for a woman of my ilk.”
“Oh good, you’re alone. Come over.”
“Over where?”
“The club,” she says, as though it’s obvious. Ivy is always at the club. She spent her early and late teen years despising every second she had to spend there with the wealthy and privileged, but as a young single woman, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear she sleeps on the golf course. “Lots of eligible men here today. There’s a charity golf tournament going on. Do you realize how short golf shorts are? Muscular man thighs, everywhere you look. Yum.”
“‘Man thighs,’” I grimace, shaking my head. “No, thank you. I prefer my men covered. Preferably in jeans and leather.”
She sighs. “When are you going to let go of that particular preference, Bella? Nice boys don’t wear leather.”
“Who says I want a nice boy?” I ask. “Also, you sound like my grandma.”
“Then be a good girl and listen to your granny. Come to the club. The men are all out on the course, and I need someone to drink with me until they get back. Day drinking alone makes me look sad.”
“As much as I wish I could help you get day drunk, I’m busy right now,” I say, stepping to the edge of the sidewalk and leaning against a concrete planter box. As a well-gr
oomed female in a dress and heels, I’ll get enough weird looks inside the comic book store without also being on my phone and disrupting everyone inside.
“You said you were alone,” she argues.
“And busy,” I add. “I have plans, but I’ll let you know if my schedule clears up.”
I look back down the sidewalk and don’t see the handsome man from before. Surely he didn’t go into the Clip ’N Trim. From what little I saw of him, there was no way he was only paying ten dollars for his haircuts. Either way, he’s gone, and I’m more than a little disappointed.
Being a senator’s daughter means I have a very full social calendar and very few dating prospects. Every man who comes into my life has to be thoroughly vetted by my father, my grandmother, and our security. Their pasts are combed over to ensure they have no seedy connections, nothing lurking in their closets that could become a problem for my father’s reelection. In high school, I couldn’t go to prom with Isaac Daines because he helped use grass killer to burn a giant penis in the school’s front lawn. It was visible from every single classroom in the science wing, and even though I laughed until I cried, the school officials didn’t like it much. Neither did my father.
I have a bit more freedom as an adult, especially if I keep the relationships private—ordering dinner to eat at my apartment, late night hookups, drinks in shadowy corners, and leaving in separate cars. But as soon as things are out in the open, the press picks up the story and the fledgling relationship is subjected to intense speculation from both the public and my family, which is usually enough to kill whatever spark may have been there.
My father has always done his best to protect me and love me, so I try not to blame him. But it’s hard when Ivy can serial-date every member of the club beneath the age of forty with no repercussions, while I can’t even get coffee with a cute guy from my coding class without a tabloid running a background check on him and speculating that my food baby from the burrito I had for lunch might in fact be a baby bump.
“You know, I would drop everything to join you at the club,” she says.