The Promise: Mafia Vows Two

by SR Jones

  “Okay, I’ll let you rest, but I’m not leaving,” she says, with that jut of her chin that means there’s going to be no arguing with her.

  “You can’t stay here,” I say, panic building. “It’s not safe. I can’t keep you safe.”

  “Maya, come on back to the house, get some sleep, and we can come back first thing in the morning,” Markos says.

  She starts to shake her head, so I play my ace. “If I don’t know you’re safe, I can’t rest, and if I don’t rest, I won’t get well.”

  She narrows her eyes at me, clearly knowing my game, but she sighs and nods once. “Okay, I will go back to your house.”

  “Our house.” I grab her hand and squeeze it. “Our house, baby.”

  She brushes her lips over mine, soft and sweet, and it’s an all too short taste of heaven. Then she’s going, and Markos follows her out of the door. Alesso hangs back. “You focus on getting well. Andrius, Liam, and Reece might be gone, but Andrius’ Spetsnaz guys are still two doors down, and I’ve got two Greek Special Forces men coming to see me and Markos tomorrow, and an ex-Navy Seal. Greek-American, he lives here now.”

  Fuck me, Alesso moves fast. I nod and wince. “Thanks, my friend. When the hell did you organize all this?”

  “While you were sleeping like a baby.” He grins. “Couldn’t simply sit in that waiting room doing nothing for hours on end, so I popped out a few times to make some calls. The Greek guys are from my time in the service, the period when you were doing more … covert stuff, and they’re good. The Seal is a rec from Liam of all people.”

  “You think there’s still danger?”

  “I think most of the immediate threat is neutralized, for now. I doubt the MC are going to come after us. Costas is gone. Lefteris is apparently not interested in a fight as big as this would be, and his son Yannis is now twisting in the wind. Long term, though? Who knows? I don’t think Yannis is finished by a longshot.”

  “Will Stamatis go after him, do you think? Can we persuade him Yannis needs dealing with?”

  “I doubt it, not at this moment in time, but whatever happens next, we’re going to be targets moving forward, brother. You have to know as much. We’re seconds to one of the biggest cartel bosses on the fucking globe. We need a small army to keep us and ours safe, and I’m building one.”

  I move and groan as pain slices into my head. Jesus, it’s as if a million tiny men with electric pitchforks are jabbing into my brain.

  “Okay, rest. Sleep. It’s all under control.”

  He strides out of the room, confident, sure, and I hope his words don’t tempt fate. We’ve all had enough excitement to last a lifetime.

  As the door closes, my eyes drift shut too. The last thought I have is that I’m going to marry Maya again, but do it properly this time.

  ***

  The door to the room opens, and I jerk awake. I swallow and choke. I’m coughing, and my eyes are streaming, but when I manage to stop, I see Maya watching me, hovering over me, distress clear as day in her gorgeous green eyes.

  I gesture to the water jug, and she pours me a glass and hands it to me. I’m shocked to see my hands shake as I take the plastic container from her. God, I don’t shake for fuck’s sake. This is not me.

  “Here, let me help.” Maya takes the glass and guides it to my lips.

  For a brief moment, my stupid male pride gets all angry at needing help doing something like taking a drink, but then something else takes its place. Something warm and nice at having a person to help me when I need it. Someone to keep the world from shaking for me. Someone to lend me their strength when mine is all but gone. I’ve spent every day for years holding the world up on my shoulders, and it’s incredible to have someone standing next to me, lightening the load.

  “Thank you,” I manage.

  “How do you feel?” she asks me.

  “Like I got hit by the proverbial truck,” I reply. “What time is it?”

  “Early, I got here as soon as visiting hours started.”

  She looks down at the blanket covering me, then back to my face. “You scared me so much. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

  “You’ve lost too much in a short space of time,” I tell her, and she nods.

  “Yes, but yours would have been the greatest loss of them all.”

  Her words take me aback. In fact, I can’t speak, don’t know what to say.

  “Damen. No one has shown half the interest in my welfare my whole life than you have in a short time. No one has gone to bat for me in the way you have. No one has stood up to me, but for my own good. Or held me and wiped away my tears the way you have.”

  Something hits me then. An odd thought. A memory I have of Maya talking to me, Alesso, and Markos a long time ago, when she must have been maybe fourteen or so. We had asked her about the plague in Greece, and she’d been chatting with us. For a moment, she’d seemed happy, when normally I thought she seemed quite a sad child from the little I saw of her. Then her mother had come and led her away, and I’d had the strangest thought. I had thought: what kind of life is that poor kid going to have with her position in the family. And I remember wishing a happy future for her before I turned my attention back to Alesso and Markos and the stupid discussion we were having.

  Funny how life can turn out. Who’d have thought that the shy, quiet kid I saw back then would grow into such a strong and beautiful woman, or that she’d be mine, and that I’d love her. Fiercely.

  “Have I told you I love you recently?” I ask her. It’s still not easy for me to say those words. The demons still snap at my hindbrain, telling me I’ll fail her, screw this up, hurt her, but I push them away. They aren’t in charge, I am.

  She shakes her head.

  I lean into her and tip her chin up, noting with satisfaction that my hand is no longer shaking. “Well, I do. You’re strong, and smart, and sexy.”

  “I’m too quick to lose my temper,” she says with a soft smile as she sits in the chair.

  She’s gorgeous in a long gray skirt and boots, with a soft looking sweater, and a shocking pink jacket that she takes off and puts over the back of the chair. The jacket is all her, the gray is kind of conservative for Maya, and I wonder if she’s trying to dress more the way her mother wanted her to. She doesn’t need to do that. Shouldn’t change anything about herself.

  “Yes, you are somewhat fiery, and it drives me crazy, but I even find that kind of sexy.”

  “Oh my God, Damen!” Maya stares at the bulge tenting the sheet, and her eyes widen. Her scandalized tone makes me laugh.

  “What? It’s a natural reaction when you’re around.” I pause then grin at her. “Wanna play doctors and nurses?”

  “Oh yeah, because a member of staff being able to walk in here any minute is sexy.”

  “Lock the door.”

  Her eyes widen farther. “I can’t do that. The lock is there for the nurses if they’re changing a patient or something.”

  “Baby, go lock the door and come back here.”

  She bites her lip, but she gets up and does as I say.

  “Good girl, now sit in the chair, pull your skirt up, and spread your legs.”

  She flushes, but once more she does as I say. She’s wearing cerise pink panties, and the fact they match her coat has my lips twitching into a smile. “Nice underwear,” I say. “Pull your panties to one side. I want to see your pussy.”

  She hesitates.

  “Do it,” I order. Suddenly, I’m not playing anymore. If I don’t see her pretty little cunt, I think I’ll die.

  Hesitantly, she pulls her panties to one side. “Beautiful,” I breathe. “Play with yourself. Fuck yourself with your fingers.”

  She once more does as I say, and I watch her ravenously. I want her to come and sit on my face, or straddle me and fuck me, but I know I’m not well enough for those kinds of shenanigans.

  The moment she gets into it is beautiful to witness. Her face loses the worry, and her lips part as a soft sigh escapes
her.

  “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” My voice comes out in a desperate growl, and I groan as she withdraws her now glistening fingers. “Give me a taste, baby.”

  She leans in close and holds her fingers in front of my face. I grab them and pull them to my mouth, sucking her in. The moment her taste hits me, I’m done for.

  “Fuck, baby, you’re going to have touch me.”

  She smiles, and I know her hesitation is forgotten now, as she reaches under the cover with her right hand, pushes her slim fingers into the waistband of the cotton pants I’m wearing, and takes hold of me. I hiss at the first contact, and my hips buck of their own accord.

  She spreads her legs a little wider, and with her left hand goes back to work on herself, while her right hand strips my cock. There’s no finesse, and thank God, because we probably don’t have very long before someone comes to the door with meds or water.

  The sound and scent of her finger fucking herself fills the room, and I moan as she adds a twist on the top of her stroke. She gives a soft cry and fucks her hips up to meet her plunging fingers as she comes.

  It’s all I need, and even though she loses her rhythm, I still come all over her fingers.

  Shit. My heart is pounding, and I feel as if I might pass out again, but it was worth it. Hell, if I keel over this moment and leave this mortal coil, I’ll die a happy man, and the only reason I don’t want that to happen is because I don’t want to leave Maya alone.

  “You’re a bad, bad boy, Damen Lambraski,” she tells me, her voice husky. Primly, she pushes her panties back in place, smooths her skirt down, and takes a small bottle of hand sanitizer out of her bag. She rubs her hands with it, and then takes out another small bottle and spritzes the air with it.

  Perfume fills the room.

  “Did you just cover up the smell of our sex?” I ask with a twitch to my lips.

  “Yes, the nurses might come at any minute, and I don’t want them knowing what we’ve been doing.”

  “I don’t care if the whole world knows.”

  “You wouldn’t because you’re a filthy pervert, whereas I’m a good girl.”

  “We both know that’s not true, and thank God, because a good girl wouldn’t interest me half as much as you do.”

  “Really?” she asks, and there it is again, the vulnerability she tries to hide, but which surfaces all the time.

  “Really.”

  “You don’t care about some of the things I did before I met you?”

  I think about it and realize I truly don’t. “No. Do you care about the things I did before we were together.”

  She blushes a pretty shade of pink and looks away for a moment. “I do a bit, yes. I know I have no right to, but I get jealous.”

  “Well, the past is done and gone, and all that matters is now, and in the future, there won’t be anyone but you.”

  She looks back at me and gives me a smile with a tinge of sadness around the edges, and I don’t want to see her sad. “I know you love me, and we’re … officially married, but the marriage was fake, is fake, really. And I suppose, I don’t know what I am to you. We’re so new. This is all new, and I was wondering if you’d want to date or something?”

  “Are you fucking crazy?”

  “What? And don’t swear at me.”

  “Sorry, are you crazy?”

  “I don’t know why you’re angry.”

  “Do you want to date?” Fuck me, she told me she loves me, and I took that to mean she wanted everything, but maybe she doesn’t want it all? Lots of people are in love but are dating or keeping it casual for a whole host of reasons. I’d simply assumed Maya wanted the whole nine yards.

  “No.”

  Her one word has my heart calming down because I was starting to have visions of keeping her chained to my bed if she decided she wanted to leave.

  “Well neither do I. I want it all, Maya. In fact, I was going to talk to you about our marriage.”

  Her eyes light up. “You want to make it legit? I mean, between us. It’s legit legally I suppose, and to the outside world anyway. So, we just agree, now it’s for real?”

  “No.”

  She flinches, and I take her hand in mine.

  “I want to do it again, properly this time. In a church. My family are … were Orthodox, and I am too. Would you marry me, Maya? Again?”

  “Oh my gosh, yes. Yes, I will.” She throws her arms around me and peppers my neck with kisses. I want her mouth, so I take hold of her chin in my hand and angle her to where I want her, and then I kiss the life out of her.

  My bride to be, for real this time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Maya

  Once more, I’m in a bridal store, but this time, I’m with Stella and Alesso, instead of my mother and Alesso.

  Damen came home two days ago, and he has another ten days of antibiotics to take, and has been told to rest or he won’t recover as well as he should. I’m being strict with him, and he’s the worst patient.

  I had to go get my mother’s things yesterday, and he wanted to come. In his state. I told him I’d be fine with Alesso and Stella. It took all four of us, Markos included, to argue him down.

  As it turned out, I was fine. Spiros wasn’t there, thank God. And though it was sad, having Stella with me helped. I took the things I wanted to remember Mother by. A pair of sunglasses. Some pearl earrings I won’t ever wear, but that remind me of her. A few of her favorite books. Some of her clothes because they smelled of her. And a couple of her favorite ornaments, as well as photographs and a painting she loved. The one thing I couldn’t find, which upset me, was her engagement and wedding rings. Damen swears as soon as he’s fit, he’ll find them for me.

  Today, I left him with Markos and decided to come shopping for a wedding dress to cheer myself up after the somber day yesterday. After all, if we’re going to do this whole wedding thing again, I can get the dress of my dreams this time.

  “You should definitely try on a ballgown style,” Stella says. “It would suit you.”

  She and Alesso are dropping me off after this, and he’s taking her to the shooting range.

  Every now and again, I catch him undressing her with his eyes. Or I catch her mooning over him, casting him longing glances and flushing when he talks to her. It worries me because their body language is screaming they want different things. He seems to want to rip her clothes off and screw her brains out, and she’s already halfway in love if her gooey eyes are anything to go by.

  I think my best friend is about to get hurt. She’s strikingly beautiful and has plenty of men after her, but let’s be honest—Alesso is a real heartbreaker, and he doesn’t seem the sort to fall in love easily. Damen wasn’t, of course, and he fell in love with me, but I think some of that might be down to the situation we were thrown into. I sometimes wonder if he’d have fallen for me the same way if there hadn’t been the intense danger? I try not to let thoughts like that grow, because they make me insecure and sad, and I don’t want to feel that way anymore.

  After about thirty minutes of looking around, Stella and I head to the changing rooms, leaving a bored Alesso to sit and wait.

  I’ve persuaded Stella to try on a few bridesmaids dresses, seeing as this time around, she’ll be there. In fact, I want her to walk me down the aisle.

  “I’ll help you first,” she tells me, but the assistant says it’s all under control and persuades Stella to try on her own pick. I don’t care what she wears; I just want her to feel comfortable.

  I try on quite a few, but nothing stands out to me, and I wonder what Mom would like. The thought has tears filling my eyes, so I push it away. I don’t want to focus on that right now, and maybe I should because maybe I’m rushing headlong into all of this with Damen in order to fill the gaping hole in my life where a family should be. But, so what if I am? I love him, that’s not in doubt, and if I also need him to be my family, is that so bad?

  He needs me as much, despite maybe
not admitting it to himself. He’s as alone as I am. If anything happened to Alesso or Markos, Damen would have no one except for Stamatis and Andrius. Stamatis is still his boss, no matter what else might happen, and Andrius has something cold and dead where his heart should be.

  Damen needs me because he needs affection and love and some normality amongst the violence and hardness that is his life.

  “Maya?” It’s Stella, and I pull the curtain back. “I was looking at a few more dresses because I didn’t like any of the ones I tried on, and I saw this wedding dress on a mannequin at the back of the shop. I asked them to get it down because I think you should try it.”

  She’s holding an amazing Grecian style dress in her hands, trying to hold it high enough for me to see.

  “Oh, that’s a very exclusive dress,” the assistant says. “And it has a price tag to match, I’m afraid, ladies.”

  “Money is no object,” Alesso calls out from his chair in the salon a few feet away.

  “Says who?” I shout back.

  “Says Damen.”

  “You’ve got to try it,” Stella says, pushing it at me.

  So I do, and as soon as I have it on, I know. This is the one. It’s not too dissimilar in some ways to the dress I wore all those weeks ago to my fake wedding.

  It has a sweetheart neckline, and the material is gathered and ruched over the bust and down to the waist, where it crosses over and is gathered and held in place by a glittering Swarovski covered pin. From there the material falls away in folds, to reveal a thigh-high split on the right side, if you stand with your leg at a certain angle. The straps at the top of the dress are thick and also Swarovski covered.

  It’s a stunning Grecian gown with the added bling from the encrusted straps and pin.

  I stare at myself in it. I look good, and I think even Mom would have liked it because it’s as sexy as hell but not revealing. It drapes and covers my curves in the most flattering way.

  “We have an awesome bridesmaid’s dress to match this,” the assistant says. “Would you ladies like to see it?”