Wife For Him: A Possessive Mafia Romance

by Hamel, B. B.

  We reached the intersection and I stopped, looking around wildly. “They’re supposed to be here,” I said through a clenched jaw. I heard shouting behind us, and I knew the guards were coming.

  Just then a car came screaming down the street. I recognized Aldrik behind the wheel looking elated and giddy. The car slammed to a stop in front of us and I shoved Cora in the back seat as I pulled my gun from my waistband and fired off a few shots at the guards that spilled out the back door. They scattered and I jumped in the car after her, slamming the door. Aldrik hit the gas and the car shot forward, swung around the corner, and headed north away from the mansion.

  I sat there, breathing hard, then let out a wild laugh of exultation. Cora stared at me, then joined in my laughter. I pulled her into my lap and kissed her, holding her tight against me, feeling her body. She had on some huge sweatshirt and jeans that didn’t fit, but I didn’t care—she looked gorgeous, felt perfect, and I had my wife back.

  “I hate to interrupt a very lovely moment, boss, but where are we going?” Enrico asked.

  Cora blushed a little and shimmied off my lap. She sat on the seat next to me and leaned her head on my shoulder. Aldrik slowed the car down and fell into a normal driving pattern.

  “I have a safehouse in West Philly next to an old frat house.”

  “Frat house?” Enrico laughed. “Of course you do.”

  I gave Aldrik the address then squeezed Cora’s hand. She looked up at me and smiled, and despite the black eye, she looked perfect.

  I kissed her and leaned forward to whisper into her ear: “I’m glad you came with me.”

  “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now,” she whispered back and touched my face.

  I held her hand as Aldrik drove, and though I knew I needed to plan our next move—for the time being, I enjoyed being close to her again, enjoyed the elation of survival, the rush of a fight, and the heat of her skin.

  24

  Cora

  Aldrik parked out front of an old Victorian row home. Young men stood on the neighboring stoop drinking from paper bags and dressed in khaki cargo shorts and long-sleeve polos, and they nodded at Reid as he stepped out of the car.

  He turned as Enrico rolled down the window. “What should we do, boss?” he asked.

  “Head to ground,” Reid said. “I’m not sure who they’ll come after but it’s better if you’re not around.”

  Enrico grunted and nodded. They shared a long look that I couldn’t quite read—but I got the sense that Reid hadn’t expected Enrico to follow through with this. Honestly, it surprised me to see him in that car. I always got the feeling that Enrico was in it for the money and wasn’t exactly loyal to Reid in particular, but there he was.

  “Send word when it’s safe.”

  Reid nodded. “Will do. And thanks for stepping up.”

  “No problem.” Enrico smiled a little. “It was kind of fun.”

  “Kind of fun?” Aldrik roared, laughing a deep belly grumble. “You should’ve seen the house! We blew a fuckin’ hole in it!”

  Reid grinned at him and patted the top of the car. “Better get moving. I’ll see you two soon.”

  Enrico rolled the window up and the car pulled off. Reid stood and watched them go before turning back to me. I felt the frat boys staring at us curiously, but I tried to pretend like they weren’t there as Reid stepped up and took me into his arms. I tilted my chin toward him and accepted a gentle kiss on the lips—and the frat boys all cheered.

  Reid flipped them off, took my hand, and led me up the steps to the front porch. The floorboards creaked and the door looked like it was going to rot off the hinges, and one of the frat boys jogged over, a young-looking kid with a mop of brown hair and pink cheeks. He tossed a key to Reid and crossed his arms.

  “Everything good in there?” Reid asked.

  “All good, just like you wanted.”

  “Thanks.” Reid turned, unlocked the door, and we stepped inside. I hesitated as the frat kid walked back to join his friends, then went in and shut the door.

  Reid locked it as I swept my eyes down a simple, barren hallway with hardwood floors and a sweeping staircase that disappeared up to the second floor.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  He waved a hand. “I have an arrangement with the frat next door.”

  “What kind of arrangement?”

  “They can use this place for their parties once a month if they clean it up afterward, keep it spotless, and make sure nobody knows I own it. In exchange, I pay their rent.”

  “You’re kidding. That’s a great deal for them.”

  “I know.” He grinned at me and stepped closer. “And it works for me, too.”

  I let him pull me against him again and kissed him slow and deeper this time. I felt wild with what happened and the adrenaline still buzzed in my veins. I let him steer me toward the stairs, still kissing, then turned and stumbled upward. The floorboards creaked beneath our feet but I barely paid much attention, and only caught brief flashes and glimpses of the house around us—old windows, white walls, dark brown wood trim.

  He kicked open a door to the master bedroom. It was dominated by a large four-poster, king-sized bed, two nightstands, a dresser, and a bureau. Nothing hung on the walls, and the room smelled fresh—like daisies, or lilacs, or perfume.

  I let him push me back toward the bed. I sat on the end, leaning back on my hands, and stared up at him. He knelt down in front of me and kissed my neck, then my lips, nibbling them gently.

  “I missed you,” he whispered in my ear.

  “I missed you too. I didn’t think… I wasn’t sure you’d come for me.”

  He shook his head. “Of course I would.”

  “Did Hedeon let you?”

  “Hedeon can go fuck himself.”

  I smiled a little bit and touched his face. His skin was rough from stubble and so handsome it made me want to dig my fingers into his cheek.

  “What’s going to happen now? Vincent won’t ever forgive what you did.”

  “I don’t need him to.”

  “Reid—”

  “Listen to me.” He leaned closer and pulled me against him again, pinning one arm behind my back, lips against my ear. “I don’t care what they want or what they think’s right. I have what I need and that’s enough for me.”

  I chewed on my lip and nodded. He stood and pulled me to my feet, kissing me again, driving me wild, then began to undress me.

  He did it slowly, like he wanted to savor it. The big sweatshirt came off first, and I was surprised to find that the house was warm—probably the frat kids kept it heated and cooled. His fingers moved down my skin, eyes narrowed as he took in the bruises along my sides and ribs. He touched them gingerly, like he wanted to try to suck them from my skin, then kissed them, his lips so soft. He took off my bra and I let it fall to the floor as his lips found my pink nipples, making them harder, making my skin dimple with need for him.

  He kissed up along my breasts, my throat, my lips. He unzipped my jeans and tugged them off, leaving me in my underwear—which came off moments later. I stood naked in front of him, but didn’t feel exposed, didn’t feel anything but desire as his hands moved along my body. He traced the bruises on my legs, kneeling in front of me like a beggar, kissing where the bruising was worst, touching the outlines, and finally pushed me back onto the bed, spreading my legs wide.

  He licked me then, slow, delighted, gentle. I let a moan escape my lips.

  “I need you to know that I don’t expect anything from you,” he said as his tongue slid along my slit and lingered on my clit in slow, maddening, amazing circles. “But I’ve already made up my mind.”

  I gripped his hair and moved my hips. “About what?”

  “About you, about taking this all the way to the end. I can’t help myself anymore and pretend like I don’t want you, Cora.”

  “I want you, too.”

  “Your taste, your body.” He slid fingers inside of me an
d god, I gasped, tilted my head back and groaned my pleasure. “Every inch of you. I want you stretched out on my bed quivering for me, waiting for my touch, for my cock to slip between your legs.” He licked me faster, sucking and sliding his fingers in and out. I was so slick, so soaking wet, and I felt like I was going to lose my mind with pleasure.

  “I can give you that,” I groaned.

  “But you have to be sure.” He slid his fingers in deep then moved up and kissed me. I shuddered, kissed him back, and let his tongue roll around my nipples, fingers still buried inside me. “Things might get worse before they get better.”

  “I’m ready for that.”

  He smiled a little. “I hope so.”

  He kissed me again, but this time pulled me to my feet. I helped him undress, shirt first, then jeans, then boxer briefs, and took his hard shaft in my hands. I stroked him as he kissed me, then pushed me back to the bed, turned me around, gripped my hips, and pressed himself against my soaked spot. I looked over my shoulder, eyes wide and wild, as he slowly sunk himself between my legs.

  I groaned and buried my faced in the sheets. Pain, pleasure, need, it all raced and roared through me. I moved back along his shaft, pushing against him, taking every inch of his thick cock and moaning his name. He took me back then, hand gripped on my hips, fingers pressed tight against my pale white skin, and we moved in a rhythm together, my pussy gliding up and down his shaft, sweat beading my skin as I gasped.

  He grabbed my hair, growled his pleasure. I loved the way he knew what he wanted and how to take it, the way he grabbed me and spanked me and wasn’t gentle, wasn’t kind—but knew where the line between pleasure and pain was. He walked that line, tipping me one way and the next, making me feel things I’d never imagined and more. He turned me around and I rode him, moaning, rocking my hips, kissing his lips as his hands teased my breasts. He licked the sweat from my chest, bit my bottom lip, and fucked me, god, yes, he fucked me, fucked me like I needed, fucked me deep and rough, unrelenting and hard.

  We became tangled in the sheets, and nothing mattered. There was his taste, his lips, his hands, and our bodies. He spread me wide and slipped inside, arms wrapped around my body as I rolled my hips against him. He ground his cock inside, fucked me faster, licked my nipple, bit my ear.

  “This is my dream,” he growled, “every day taking you like this, making you mine, teasing you, drawing you out, making you moan. You’ll come crawling to me on your knees and beg me to make you feel good, and I’ll give you want you want, Cora, give you everything you want.”

  “Oh, god, yes,” I whispered. “I didn’t know I needed this.”

  “I knew,” he growled. “And when we survive—we’ll make something happen. I’ll make you mine.”

  I gasped and arched my back as he fucked me faster, faster, and I knew I was close, knew I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I felt the orgasm peak and roll through my body, and he kept going, fucking me through it, making me gasp, until he tightened and came inside me. For a few blissful seconds we came together, our bodies drenched in sweat and intertwined, the world outside a speck of nothing in the back of my head, all concept of time erased, nothing but Reid and his body, his lips, his voice, his eyes.

  Slowly my orgasm receded. We fell back against the pillows, his arms around me, breathing each other, feeling each other. I curled closer against him and let myself enjoy the moment, even if the world began to creep back in and all my uncertainty and doubts gnawed at me.

  He ran his fingers through my hair. “We need to talk about what we’re going to do next.”

  “Do we have to?” I chewed on my lip. “We could just stay in bed.”

  “That sounds good to me.” I looked up and saw him smiling. “But unfortunately, I doubt that’s a good long-term strategy. We can’t stay here forever.”

  “What can we do, though? You dropped a bomb on my cousin’s house.”

  “True.” He grinned bigger. “Bastard didn’t see it coming.”

  I sighed and kissed his bare chest. “Seriously, Reid. What can we do?”

  He shifted his weight and sat up. I felt the sheet fall off my shoulders, and I got a pang of desire as his eyes moved down to my chest. Even minutes after coming between my legs and he still looked at me like that—I couldn’t help but like it.

  “Way I see it, we have two options,” he said, meeting my gaze. “First option is we run.”

  “Would you do that?” I asked, cocking my head. The idea of leaving Philadelphia had occurred to me a thousand times, but I’d never thought it would actually happen—especially not after I agreed to Vincent’s crazy marriage plan.

  “My whole life’s been this city,” he said, staring down at the sheets. I could see the conflict in his eyes, and I suddenly felt the urge to tell him everything would be okay—even if I knew that was a lie. “Hedeon’s been good to me.”

  “But he let this happen.”

  “He did.” His jaw tightened. “He tried to talk to me about it.”

  “He knew you came tonight?”

  “Not specifics, but he’ll guess who did it when he hears.”

  I chewed my lip. “Is that safe? He might tell Vincent.”

  “I’m sure he will. Hedeon will do anything to keep this city from erupting into chaos.”

  I sucked in a breath and leaned back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. That was going to make things difficult. Not that Vincent wouldn’t already figure out the truth on his own—but if Hedeon turned on us, then there’d be nobody supporting us in the city at all.

  “What’s the other option?”

  He let out a harsh laugh. “We convince Hedeon to step in.”

  I sighed and shut my eyes. “You think that’s unlikely.”

  “Very unlikely.”

  “Then we have no other choice. We have to run.”

  He didn’t speak. I turned toward him, staring at his muscular chest, at the way it rose and fell with each breath. He didn’t move as he watched the far wall, and I took in the room for the first time—it was barren, barely decorated at all, and lights from outside drifted in through the windows. I heard the frat boys outside distantly, laughing, drinking, being young.

  I never had that. College was never in the cards for me, even if I was inclined toward school. My father would’ve never let it happen—he would’ve told me it was a waste of time and money, and that I was more use to him marrying or working. I envied those young men and their freedom, their educations, their few years of having whatever they wanted, having the space to figure out who they wanted to be.

  I never had that space. I had to fight for every inch of freedom, and at every turn it seemed as though someone was there, ready to rip it away.

  It always felt as though I’d end up like Alex—bleeding on the street, riddled with holes.

  “There’s a chance he’ll help,” Reid said, his voice low. “But the question is, do we want to take that risk?”

  “I don’t care about Philadelphia,” I said. “It never did anything for me.”

  He let out a laugh. “You met me here.”

  “And that’s fine if it’s the last thing I do in this fucked-up place.”

  He grunted at that and sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “I owe it to Enrico and Aldrik to try to make amends with Hedeon at the very least. They shouldn’t have to run away because of the decisions I made.”

  I wanted to argue with him, to tell him that they made their own choices, and they knew what it would mean to help—but I kept silent, because it would only make him angry, and I knew he was right. He owed those two a lot, and if he could help them out a little bit in this fucked-up time, then he should try.

  I reached up and touched his cheek. “You’re not such a bad guy, you know that?”

  He gave me a sideways glance. “I wonder about that sometimes.”

  “You’re not a monster. Even if you want to be one.”

  He grunted and said nothing, only wrapped his arms around me and pulled
me tight. We stayed like that for a while, breathing together, enjoying the simple comfort of having a beautiful naked body close against our own, but I knew that wouldn’t last.

  We had until the morning at least, and soon I decided that I’d make the best of it. I kissed him, straddled his hips, rode back along his shaft and felt him stiffen.

  I took him over and over that night, wondering if there was any way we could fuck enough to keep the sun from rising.

  25

  Reid

  I found spare clothes in the closet as the sun peeked up over the buildings. Cora slept wrapped in the sheets—she’d only passed out an hour or so ago after letting me take her body again and again in a desperate frenzy. I watched her for a second then dressed and snuck out of the room, closing the door behind me.

  The house smelled like beer and disinfectant, which shouldn’t have surprised me since I let that damn frat use the place. I found old, stale coffee in a cupboard and made a pot while I leaned up against the counter and stared at my phone, trying to decide what I was going to do.

  When the coffee finished and I poured a mug, the phone buzzed on the granite countertop. I flinched with surprise, then cursed and picked it up. Hedeon’s name floated on the screen and I had the urge to turn him away.

  Instead, I answered. “Morning.”

  “Good morning.” He didn’t sound angry, which surprised me. “I was wondering if you’d be up.”

  “Couldn’t get much sleep.”

  “I’m sure.” I could hear him pacing along his kitchen, the tell-tale creaking of floorboards and his breath in the receiver. “I think we need to talk.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Don’t fuck around, Reid.”

  I took a deep breath and had the urge to hang up. “I tried talking to you already.”

  “You went behind my back. Do you have any idea how angry Vincent is right now?”