Stealing Iris: A Dark Mafia Romance (Blood Ties Book 1)

by Sahara Roberts

  Dante leans in. “Don’t let her fool you,” he mock whispers. “I’m the one with the good eye.” He actually winks at me, and my face flames. “But I’ll have to get back to you on the hips.” He answers so casually you’d think he hadn’t been holding my bare hips just a few nights before.

  Her laughter bounces off the far wall. “I like this guy.”

  Me, too. The words go through my head, but I manage to bite them back. Quick flashes of his hands on me, straddling him, having him pull me close, fill my head. While it was just a second of images, they result in an unexpected shot of heat between my legs.

  The waitress brings our order, saving me from having to respond. “Well, I’ll leave you to eat.” She takes my hand, her expression gaining sympathy, so I know what’s coming. “Any word on your daddy, mija?”

  Tears threaten as the spotlight moves to shine on me. “No.” I shake my head. “I’m afraid not.”

  She drags in a breath. “I’m sorry, baby girl.” I swallow hard, avoiding looking in Dante’s direction. “You’re still on the wall over there.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see him turn. Of course he would look over. Who wouldn’t? Even I feel like a huge beacon is beaming from the picture frame and flyer up on the wall. “Though I didn’t include the puta he was running around with.” I couldn’t help but smile. If Bunny loves you, you know it. Same if she doesn’t. Clearly Olga didn’t make the short list.

  “Bo-nnie.” The bellow from the kitchen carries across the crowded restaurant. Bunny rolls her eyes, giving me one last shake. “Lord, I really need to hire someone who can do more than one thing at a time,” she mutters. “Got to go, baby. People to feed. Employees to strangle.” She hugs me and winks at Dante before she makes her way back into the kitchen, pulling the apron over her head.

  We both slip back into the booth, Dante still studying the wall behind the register. As much as I’ve been looking forward to this lunch, now that we’re here, a knot forms in my throat, and nothing will get past it. Why would I think coming to a place I associate with my father would be easy? Yet, the question hangs between us, heavy enough to weigh me down. I’ll have to explain because I know, at some point, he’ll ask.

  “My father…disappeared last summer.” I pull my drink in front of me, running my thumb up and down the condensation along the side, steeling myself for the inevitable questions.

  “He went across the river?”

  “Yes.” When he doesn’t continue the conversation, I nearly sag in relief. It’s one thing to know people disappear into Mexico on an alarmingly regular basis. It’s another to have a loved one among the statistics. Worse when you wait innumerable hours for a ransom call that never comes. You could drive yourself crazy thinking about what he or she would have to endure. Yet people have the thoughtless habit of asking probing questions then ending in some horror story they heard about.

  I force myself toward happier memories. “We came here all the time when I was growing up.” The familiar surroundings set me at ease, welcoming me back like an old friend. “And yes, I usually order breakfast for lunch.” He looks down at my plate with amusement.

  “Bunny’s from the neighborhood. Her mom lives across the street. She brought over food and checked on us when Mom was sick.” When Olga started butting in, the visits stopped. “I was in high school when I finally worked up the courage to ask her to teach me how to cook.”

  “You cook like this?” he asks, his fork pointing to the chile relleno on his plate.

  “To an extent,” I admit. “I can’t get the rice quite right.” And it made me into a snob. “If I could, we’d probably have a lunch section at the store.” Not that I’d be able to keep up with us down to a skeleton crew.

  We both dig into our plates. He takes a bite out of the stuffed Poblano pepper, and his lips pull into a satisfied smile.

  “This is good.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” Bunny’s place is always bustling. No matter what time we showed up, she always had customers.

  “I notice your dad’s name is Tony Gloria. So he owns the store.”

  It’s sweet he said is instead of was. Though it’s a little thing, most people don’t catch onto how much it can hurt if you haven’t given up hope.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  DANTE

  Iris slides toward the edge of the worn booth, pushing off in a little bounce that has her shirt catching under her. The soft cotton tugs against her breasts and waist to show off her curves by the time she’s standing. I pick up the to-go plate while she turns, adjusting the shirt to drape across the curve of her ass, before heading to the exit ahead of me.

  More than one man sits up straighter as she walks by, her hips swaying naturally with each step. I don’t like it. A flash of possessiveness tears through me, and I drop a hand to her waist, letting them all know to fuck off.

  For once, I can appreciate the ugly smock she wears at work because nobody else needs to be watching her beautiful ass. I reach above her to push open the door, and she glances back with the sweetest smile. Then I do something I haven’t considered doing since puberty, I weave my fingers through hers, as we make it out of the little hole-in-the-wall café.

  My dick’s been at attention since Bunny got me thinking about breeder’s hips. I had my hands around those bare hips…when I brought her down onto my stiff cock. Despite the way everything happened, I can’t get the feel of her wrapped around me out of my head.

  My focus should be on my surroundings, on any danger from the people we pass along the way to the corner parking lot instead of the damn pants she’s wearing. They’ve been in style for months, and women wear them everywhere, but few show off their bodies like she does, and I’m not sure she’s even trying.

  “Are you okay?” Those brown eyes look up at me with a shade of concern.

  I study her face. Every angle, every slope of her features reveal her innocence. If she only knew where my mind went, to that moment at the motel when she was naked in my arms, her pussy filled for the first time. Is she the type to head back to the store on her own? Or will she use that knowledge against me, knowing how she affects me?

  “I’m good.” I pull out my keys and click the remote to turn on the truck from a block away. Hopefully, the air conditioner will kick in so everything can cool down while we drive back to the market.

  We cross the street, hitting the pockmarked asphalt, to the far end of the parking lot, where I backed into the last slot. “Let me get the door.”

  She crosses her arms, her gaze covering my face as she tries to figure out what’s going on. It only gets me harder. “You didn’t like Bunny?” Her shoulders sag, and her voice lowers to a whisper, as if my opinion of her friend is important. Knowing what I think matters to her shouldn’t affect me, yet it does.

  I relax against the door, still holding the handle. “Bunny’s great,” I reply honestly. “I like how much she cares for you.” Once I say it, I realize it’s true. I like the relationship between the two women.

  “But the tension around you is so thick I can feel it.” She got me there. “Is it me?” She hunches in a protective pose.

  How the hell did I screw this up? I went from giving her space to making her feel like I’m pushing her away. I exhale in a rush, knowing I have to fix this any way necessary. “I guess maybe it is.” She swallows hard, dropping her gaze until her lashes fan out on her cheeks.

  How do you handle a woman who’s both innocent and not at the same time? I haven’t a clue. So the best thing to do is keep to the truth. “I want to kiss you.” Bright, beautiful eyes stare back at me in an instant. “But you didn’t seem okay with the idea.” I shrug, laying my cards on the table. “I was measuring the consequences because I’m going to do it anyway.”

  She sucks in a breath, the vein at her neck fluttering with her pulse. I drop off the to-go bag on the seat then bring her in to take her mouth.

  Kissing her is everything I remembered, the plump lips, the taste of the woman herself, an
d the underlying sizzle of something I can’t quite describe. It’s why I crave this, why I show up even though she shot me down when I asked her out. At least that’s what I tell myself.

  She draws away, just far enough to have space but still close enough for her lips to brush mine.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you,” I admit.

  “Mmmm,” is all she shares.

  I run the back of a finger down the side of her face, my cock getting harder at the fire in her eyes.

  She doesn’t move away. “Maybe since before then.” I brush her mouth. “This morning.” I kiss her again. “Or last night, while I was in bed.”

  Her lips part. “Is that right…”

  “Then I show up to find you in this.” I run my palm from the middle of her back to her side, then down to have the full curve of her ass fill my hand.

  “My laundry’s still on the line.”

  My mind fills with the image of a clothesline with little purple panties, lacy bras, and blouses that might barely cover the interesting bits. “Maybe I can steal you away for a little while.” I nuzzle her cheek, working up her jaw.

  “I can’t,” she says, the answer heavy with regret.

  I push my hand in her hair, smoothing back the sleek curls as I tilt her head to drop kisses on the side of her neck. “You sure?”

  “Yes.” This time the word is tortured.

  “I should have kept driving when I had the chance,” I mutter beside her ear.

  “And we wouldn’t have eaten.”

  The setup is much too sweet for me to let it go. “Oh, trust me, I would have eaten.” I run my tongue along her heated skin.

  “Dante.” Her answering shiver tells me she’s reliving moments from our night together.

  “You know as well as I do, if I reach between your legs, I’ll find your little clit covered in your essence.”

  She whimpers, and I run the pads of my fingers over the V of her legs. Her grip tightens on my arms then she leans into me from chest to thighs. The shock of holding her nearly knocks me on my ass. Every bit of this beautiful woman is within reach, and I’m trying my damnedest not to do something stupid. But there’s one thing I can’t control around her, and the tiny hitch in her breath says she figured out I’m hard.

  “Are you sure you didn’t wear this to torture me?”

  “Promise,” she says, her voice low and sweet. I run my hand over a plump cheek, bringing her close, to feel real pressure against my cock. Her whimper, deep in her throat, may actually be dissolving my brain.

  I could easily bend her over the seat… No. Not like that. I could pick her up, drawing her legs around me as I bury myself inside her, and to hell with the rest of the world. Though I’ve never been one to give a damn before, this time jealousy itself stops me in my tracks. I won’t share Iris, not with anyone. People around us might stop to watch and enjoy, or, worse yet, to judge.

  I shift us into the corner, where the door blocks her from view. Her arms come around my shoulders, and I move up her body and under her top within two or three pounding heartbeats. Her bra isn’t much of a barrier. I wrap my hand around her breast, fighting a mad urge to tighten my hold. I squeeze my eyes shut, but it only makes me much more aware of her nipple, a tight little diamond cutting into the center of my palm. Get her back to the store…work…you’re not doing this here. Then she pushes into my hand, shredding the last of my good intentions.

  “You’re gonna be late.”

  *****

  IRIS

  He follows me into the back seat of the truck cab, a look of dark promise on his face as he shuts the door behind him. My pulse races through my body, throbbing between my legs and scattering my thoughts. I scoot along the seat, making room, but his arm goes between my waist and the backrest, wrapping around me in a smooth move. His eyes are heavy lidded, calling to me to submit to the storm in their depths. My lips part, and I trace the edge with my tongue. He’s staring, and I struggle to draw breath as he pulls me in for a kiss. The taste of him is both quick and intoxicating, building on the need he’s already created in me.

  This isn’t like any version of making out I’ve experienced. I hadn’t realized I was craving his touch until we were flattened against each other, with his mouth taking over. I want more, more of his kiss, more of his tongue tangling with mine, and more of his body pressing into me.

  “You like being here, knowing you made my dick hard.” I’m speechless. Yes, I know where things may end up going, but I can’t bring myself to stop him. “And knowing I’m dying to taste those stiff little nipples again.” I’m both shocked and aroused, aching for his touch. I’ve never had a guy talk to me like this, much less touch me like this in public. Yet I want nothing more to have him take his fill.

  His palm settles on the back of my waist, steadying me. Meanwhile, his other hand slips under my blouse to flip open the clasp at my back. Pushing up my bra, he sweeps over my breast with possession. I’m left pressing my thighs together to curb the wetness he’s created. His thumb and index finger pluck my hard nipple, playing with the tip until the simple caress draws a whimper. Dante pulls back, his touch becoming tender as his lips move along the side of my neck, dropping kisses all the way down to my shoulder.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he says in a low, rough voice. I don’t doubt it, remembering his heated gaze when all this started.

  “I’m fine,” I whisper. He brings my legs up, folding them under me so I’m kneeling then pulls up my blouse. I adjust on the seat, looking around despite the tint on the windows. We’re a few yards away from the sidewalk, across the road from an office building, with people going about their business. None of them aware of what we’re doing in the cab of his truck.

  His mouth closes around me, his tongue coming through with deep strokes around the edge of my nipple. The throbbing starts again, intensifying with every stroke. In seconds, I’m clutching the back of my seat for all I’m worth.

  “That’s good, baby,” he murmurs, his hands at my sides. I’m practically leaning into him now, and the change in position seems to do it for him. His thumbs hook my top, pushing up until my bra is sticking up through the neckline. The warmth of his breath brushes across my breasts before his palms cover the outer curve. The heat of his mouth plays against my nipples, bringing my teeth to clamp along my bottom lip.

  That’s when I felt the pressure against my waist. He’s slipping his hand down my belly, under the elastic of my panties to get between my legs. I should be embarrassed, knowing he’ll find out I’m wet, and it’s all because of him.

  “Perfect.” He peels down my leggings and panties, uncovering my body. I can’t believe what he’s doing to me…what I’m letting him do, what I’m wanting him to do. It’s both shocking and exciting at the same time.

  The truck’s air conditioner is full blast. Cool air slaps against my butt, and everything else that’s exposed. His middle finger goes over my clit then into my slit, sending a jolt through every inch of my body. With his fingers moving over my most intimate parts, I can barely think at all. I have to brace myself against a strong shoulder because nothing I’ve done before has prepared me for this storm.

  “You’re so beautiful.” His voice brings me back to him. I’m so close. How could he manage that within the seconds he’s had my clothes down? “Let me have your pussy,” he murmurs next to my mouth as his fingers slide to my entrance.

  “Ye-es,” I stumble over the word, breaking it into two syllables. God, yes.

  “Take this off,” he says, pulling on the leggings.

  I pull back, shoving one shoe over the heel of the other until I can drag my clothes the rest of the way off. Meanwhile, the muscles on Dante’s arms are straining as he rips open a condom packet. I’ve rung up hundreds of them, but I never imagined this kind of heat and urgency when they’d be used. Nothing in the world can stop me from staring at his cock. Even in my limited experience, I know his size isn’t typical. There’s a beauty to th
e thick, hard flesh disappearing under the protective cover. Though he’s ready, he doesn’t move. Searching his face, I’m caught by the hunger in his expression, warning me he’s only held back so I can look my fill—and now I’m done. Meanwhile, I’m still frozen, one leg up on the seat, one off, while I’m supposed to be settling into the back seat.

  I’ve missed my chance. In the next breath, he’s stretching out over me, his hips pushing my thighs apart as his thrust sends him deep inside me. A gasp escapes me, and I close my eyes, savoring the moment. There’s nothing like the ripples from his initial entry. I can feel his possession throughout my body.

  Dante hasn’t moved, his heart’s pounding against mine, and every muscle is straining to stay still. It’s because of me—he probably thinks he’s hurt me, and he couldn’t be more wrong. I shift, pushing against his weight. He releases the breath he’s been holding and presses his lips to my temple.

  No words, from either of us. I bring my legs up around him, and he gets the idea. Bracing himself on the seat, he shifts, thrusting against me, matching the rhythm I’d even felt in my dreams.

  There’s never been anything better.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  DANTE

  With a fantastic lunch in my belly, and an unbelievable orgasm under my belt, we pull into the store parking lot. Their logo jumps out from the floor-to-ceiling window. “I hadn’t realized how those eyes follow you wherever you are.” I stop so a raggedy old work truck can back out of a space.

  “It’s my father,” she says absently.

  “What?” I glance over in surprise. The colorful drawing has an amazing amount of detail.

  The slight hesitation tells me she’s measuring her words. “Well, he didn’t have the beer belly or the weathered hat, but it’s still him.” Her cheeks turn pink. “He caught me on a bad day, and I may have taken some liberties with his appearance.”