Umberto: Mafia Romance (Andolini Crime Family Book 3)

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Umberto: Mafia Romance (Andolini Crime Family Book 3) Page 2

by Coco Miller


  “Not at all.”

  “Oh, I could have sworn I’ve heard that name before.”

  Umberto shrugs. “What’s your name?”

  “Depends who you ask,” I laugh.

  “I’m asking you,” he says seriously.

  “Well, I was born Victoria, but when I work at this fine coffee-drinking establishment, I am only known as a barista named Destiny.”

  He snorts. “Whose lame fuckin’ rule is that?”

  “The owner. Her name is Starbright.”

  “Okay, now you’re just having fun with me, aren’t you?”

  “Nope. That’s on God.”

  “Do you have a last name Victoria?”

  “I think I’m going to keep that to myself, for now.”

  “Interesting…but I guess I can’t say much. I have... colleagues... that use nicknames too.”

  “Oh yeah? Like what?” I take a sip of coffee, and his intense gaze comes back as he looks at me.

  “I’d tell you, but it would get us killed. You don’t want that now do you?”

  “You must know some pretty bad people, then.” I take a deep breath.

  “You know how I said my friends call me Enzo? That was kind of a joke. I don’t have friends. I’m not in the friend-making kind of business.”

  I smile. “I’ll be your friend.”

  He smiles too, but it’s all wrong. Like I’m a foolish girl that he pities. “That’s sweet, Victoria, and I’d be honored, except men like me don’t have friends. We’re incapable.”

  My heart hammers in my chest at how he looks at me. He looks deadly when he stares with so much intensity, and his voice dips a couple of octaves sounding like a midnight train.

  “Why not?” I ask, braving the question.

  He leans closer for a moment. “Because I’m a dangerous man and being friends with me wouldn’t be in your best interest.”

  I can’t tell if he’s joking. “Are . . . Are you going to hurt me?”

  Umberto squints his eyes a little as he thinks over my words silently to himself. He scans over my body as he appraises how I look in his dark heavy coat that must be made of cashmere or something else equally as delectable and soft. The coat hugs me like a glove and keeps me toasty warm. It smells just like him too but with a hint of something else. I can pick up a touch of leather, but there is another element that eludes me. Something deep within the fibers, much like Umberto.

  And honestly, it’s driving me a bit insane.

  Yeah, I’m definitely horny.

  Chapter Three

  Umberto

  “That’s a very hard question to answer.” I eye her, trying not to scare her off with my words. I can’t help myself. She is such a strikingly beautiful girl, and unlike any woman I’ve ever had before.

  I first saw her from this very spot, while sitting here watching the space around me. I’ve been waiting for that fuck Dema to make his way out of the damn bathroom, so I could pop him three blocks down the street where no one would ever know his body was dumped in the alleyway.

  I overheard this pretty little thing talking to her cute little Irish girlfriend at the counter. Both girls talking about themselves as if they either of them couldn't get any man in New York City to fuck them freely. Why do girls think like that? They are as fine as it gets and still think they can’t grab any man’s attention. Let’s get real. It boils my blood. What dickhead in their past led them to believe that they aren’t worthy of someone singing praises? That they aren’t worthy of being told how drop-dead fucking gorgeous they are every day?

  Especially this one in front of me.

  This girl is a diamond amongst pebbles. I’d spot her in the middle of an epic sea of women she’s so damn pretty. And hot. Her body is like a twisted road of curves and hills. Thick and curvy in all the right places. That damn sweater dress hugs her tits just right, and she has an ass most women dream of having. Her legs are encased in skin-tight leggings, leaving little to my imagination. I’m caught up in her gorgeous face and starlit eyes, filled with the ocean as she blinks at me. The flecks of blue in her eyes is vastly striking against the deep color of her skin.

  I’ve never been with a girl like her, but damn it, I’d love to. I need to know what that ass feels like sitting on my face as I smack it until she cries out my name. Her tits need to be sucked on, and I can only imagine what her snatch must feel and taste like. If it’s anything like the intoxicating scent on her skin, I’m a dead man already.

  Forget Dema. Bastard got lucky. He won’t be dying tonight because this girl has captured the attention of my Grim Reaper alter ego. Speaking of fuckin Dema, he still hasn’t made it out of the bathroom, which leads me to believe he spotted me and probably bolted out a window or some shit. The motherfucker. When I get my hands on him, I swear, I’m gonna fuck him up royally. I need to find him first though. That lowlife owes me money. This is what happens when you let junkies do your dirty work for you. Eventually, they decide it’s okay to let one person get away without paying me what’s owed. And if I let one of them get away with it, they will all think it’s okay, and that’s just bad business. So sometimes, you just gotta do shit yourself.

  I’m about to grab up this girl and swoon my way into getting her in the backseat of my car when a camera is suddenly thrust into our faces as a woman shouts questions in our direction. I’m about to pull out my Glock and tell her to get the fuck out of my face when I hear what she’s actually asking. She’s pointing the questions in Victoria’s direction. Being an heir to the Holt empire? Holt Hotels? That damn family? That’s her last name?

  It can’t be.

  Victoria didn’t tell me her last name was Holt. What the fuck? You’ve got to be kidding me. Did I just hit the damn lottery? Is she the long lost daughter of Dema Holt? The gambler who doesn’t pay his bills. The fucker I’m looking for?

  Surely her ass backwards parents set her up with a trust fund before blowing through their money. Why would his daughter be working in a coffee shop where the flakey ass owner makes her change her name to some hippy-dippy shit? This reporter lady has to be wrong.

  “Is it true that your father isn’t really broke?” the woman asks, shoving her camera phone in Victoria’s face. “What are his plans now that Holt Hotels is back up for sale? Will he take the owner up on his offer to take back the reigns?”

  Victoria sits upright in her seat. “My family is none of your concern. I’d appreciate it if you would leave me alone.”

  But the woman keeps hammering on, and I see how uncomfortable Victoria is, which only pisses me off. I stand. My frame easily towers over the tiny woman with the camera.

  “Why don’t you leave her alone? Clearly, she doesn’t want to answer your questions. I think you better respect her wishes, or else you'll have some serious problems on your hands.”

  “Oh! Are you her bodyguard? Do you still have money left for a bodyguard, Victoria? Is your dad paying for that?”

  “Why don’t we move you somewhere less . . . crowded, Victoria?” I offer her my hand and help her navigate her way to the door, so the annoying camera lady won’t get in our way. The last thing I need is media attention. I thrive in the dark, and in the dark is where I wish to remain.

  She feels like an angel in my arms. So naturally, I lead her to hell. I have a club not too far from here. One of the classiest joints you’ll see bare tits in the city. I’m not even in it for the T & A. I’m in it for the cash. I’m in it for the cover of what a cash business like a strip club does for my money game. I’m not about making money that can be traced or books that need to be kept honestly. I don’t do taxes, and I damn sure don’t do other people taking what’s mine.

  I hustle for my money, and so does everyone in the Andolini Crime Family. This club is our money haven. It’s how we keep our shit clean and the FEDS off our asses. For the most part anyhow. It might not be the best place to take a classy girl like Victoria, but it provides protection for us, because there isn’t a damn person dumb eno
ugh to try and come up in my club gunning for me or anyone I know without an invitation. And that damn press lady or anyone else from the lame news media sure as fuck would never be able to step foot into my cash cleaning empire. My doorman will see to that.

  Victoria walks close to my side as we enter through a special entrance, only I can use, bypassing security and the bullshit of the main room. I wrap a protective arm around her shoulders as we cut through the rows of tables and clients as they drink and enjoy the show. I find the door to my office and take a seat on the edge of my desk, allowing Victoria to have the plush white sofa. She takes off my jacket, revealing her tight body and settles in. I don’t dare sit close to her again. I don’t trust myself not to fuck her right here in my office, and I don’t do that shit where I work. Playtime is for any number of hotels around the city. This is where I work and work only.

  My assistant Karlita stops dead in her high heeled tracks as soon as she sees what’s happening in my office. Her mouth drops to a perfect ‘O’ shape, and I have to give her the ‘don't fuck with me’ stare in order to keep everything in line. I don’t need to scare poor Victoria any more than I already have by telling her that shit about not having friends and being a dangerous man. But she needs to know that I am not good. I am not the kind of guy you bring home to mom and dad.

  “I didn’t think you were coming back tonight, Mr. Bova,” Karlita says quickly. “I was just going to drop off the numbers, sir.”

  “Plans changed a little,” I tell her, tightening my expression. “I’m going to see to it that this girl finds her way home. She’s having a little trouble with the press. Apparently, she’s a big deal in this city.”

  “Oh,” Victoria says, “I’m not. That lady is just confused.”

  I squint my eyes curiously. “I somehow don’t believe that.”

  “Shall I call the car, Sir?” Karlita asks, her eyes looking a bit unsure.

  “Yes, that would be good, Karlita. Tell them to park around back.”

  “Yes, Sir. I will get that in order right away, Mr. Bova.”

  “Thank you, Karlita.”

  She leaves us alone.

  “Are you really taking me home? I only live a few blocks away from here, and I don’t want to be trouble.”

  “Yes, I am. No one is going to bother you tonight.” No one except for me. “Were you warm enough in the jacket you had on or would you prefer a heavier one. It’s getting rather cold out, and you’re not nearly equipped in that skimpy little number you have on to keep warm. What were you thinking?”

  I slip my arms out of my suit jacket and hold it up for her. Victoria stands and slips her skinny arms into the holes and then fucking hums as she turns around.

  “Smells like a dream.”

  “Excuse me?” I ask. “What smells like a dream?”

  “Your coat,” she says, taking another sniff at the sleeve. “Your jacket smells really good. And it’s really warm.” She sighs. “I kind of get kicked out of my dorm a lot. I have a nymphomaniac for a roommate. I’m studying to be a doctor, and all my study time is basically spent in the hallway. But tonight, I was trying to find somewhere a little comfier to relax after studying. I didn’t think to grab my coat before I was tossed out like a stray cat.”

  I stare at her petite frame up against my large body. Victoria moves closer, putting her fingers on my red tie, stroking it with her touch as she slides the silk through her fingers and stares up at me with those bedroom eyes of hers. She’s batting her long dark lashes like blinking fast will cast some kind of fucking magic spell over my ass. And maybe they do because when she looks up at me all innocently like this, I want to lean into her and kiss the shit out of her perfect little mouth.

  It takes every ounce of discipline I have learned in my life, doing all kinds of illegal dirty deeds as one of New York’s most wanted gangsters, to not toss her pretty ass across my desk and fuck her right here and now.

  I cannot fuck in my office. That is a big fucking red X. No, I won’t do it. But goddamn it would be hot.

  “Need something from me, Victoria?” I ask, allowing my hands to fall on her wide hips, which is a really dumb fucking idea.

  She trembles, and I feel my dick twitch inside my pants.

  Stay focused motherfucker. Stay fucking focused.

  “I’m really grateful to you for helping me, Umberto,” Victoria almost whispers. Pressing closer, she tips up on her toes and kisses my cheek.

  I try to duck away, but the damage is done, and it’s too fucking late. My heart already starts to beat to a new and unfamiliar rhythm that really confuses the hell out of me. The worst part of any plan going south is becoming the one getting screwed over instead of the one doing the screwing, and I am a righteous fucking screwer of plans. Right now, I feel pretty damn screwed as she touches me with her softness and kindness. My body repels such shit. As if I could be so easily taken over by this girl dressed like a starving college student... wearing my damn coat.

  Ugh, it will smell just like her heavenly scent now, too. She is like breathing in a field of wildflowers mixed with vanilla ice cream. My hardening cock begs to know what she feels like. I want full relief of this pain, this need, but shit, I’d settle for a sample of her mouth, too. She must have felt how hard I am beneath my pants because she grinds into me a bit with her belly, and then smiles shyly.

  “I’m sorry. I should not have done that.”

  I raise a brow. “No, you shouldn’t have done that at all. You’re in for it now, baby.”

  “I usually don’t hook up with guys like this,” she whispers. “But you’re just so . . .” My grip on her hips tightens, and she gasps; her sweet breath fanning my face, seducing me further.

  “I’m just so what, Victoria?”

  “You just make me feel so different than any guy I’ve been around before.”

  “Most men aren’t like me, baby. They don’t play by the rules I play by.”

  “And what rules are those, Umberto Bova?”

  “I make the rules,” I growl. “And I break the rules. I’d never let anyone toss you out of anywhere. And I’ll have any motherfucker who ever treats you with such disrespect handled properly and swiftly.”

  She likes what I’ve said. It turns her on.

  “I think I need you tonight, Umberto.”

  “Then baby, I’m going to give you what you want. What you need.”

  I slide my hands up her hips to her waist and rest them by her collar. She feels exquisite.

  But this is Dema’s damn daughter and she’s young and probably perfectly innocent of all of his bullshit. Should I do this?

  Her eyes flutter as I trace one of my fingers along the side of her neck and my decision is simple.

  “Open up for me, baby.”

  Chapter Four

  Umberto

  Victoria slowly complies, allowing me to slide my thumb between her plump, glossy lips and finger fuck the shit out of her mouth as she swirls her tongue around it. I get harder as I watch her swirl her tongue on the pad of my thumb and push it as deep into her throat as I can without her gagging. Goddamn it that’s so fucking hot.

  She hums hungrily for more. I give in and grasp her head tightly in my hands, tipping that pretty face of hers up to me so I can thrash my hungry tongue against hers, delving deep into her mouth as if it were a viper trying to strike.

  We stumble as the kiss deepens and ignites into an inferno, unlike anything I have ever felt before. Every fiber in my being pulls me toward her for more, and that is not even enough. I want to crawl inside her molecules and take up residence beneath her ribcage.

  There is something that lives in this girl that wants to bring me back from the dead, and it lives inside her kiss. I could come right where I stand as she touches me with her soft hands, and I feel her delicious skin.

  “It’s your lucky day,” I growl into her ear. “I’m gonna make you come with my fingers as I fuck that sweet cunt. Then I’m going to fuck you all night with my dick.”r />
  I take my time removing my coat from her and easing her leggings down her body, kissing every inch of flesh exposed.

  “Oh my God,” she cries out as I shove two fingers between her wet pussy lips, barely able to fit inside her because she’s so hot and tight around my fingers.

  I roll her swollen clitoris with my free fingers and shove her against the desk opening her legs wide. I take a small taste of that slick, slippery pussy, and it’s as good as a fine wine. But dammit, Karlita is probably going to be back any minute now to tell me the car is ready and waiting for us.

  I pummel Victoria’s tight little snatch with my fingers, not letting her up until she loses her breath inside my mouth as I smother her with my kiss. She clenches her walls around me as I find just the right spot deep in her pussy and fuck her until she comes.

  “Umberto! Oh, I’m coming, I’m coming,” she cries out, swirling her wide hips to get me even deeper like the little vixen she is. I am so hard it is painful.

  “This pussy is all mine tonight,” I growl. “I’m going to fuck you so good.”

  “More,” Victoria demands as she rocks on my hand to reach the height of her orgasm.

  I fucking love to watch all of it … how she’s so brave to get off on my fingers. I’m a damn stranger practically. And after I told her I was dangerous, too. It means she trusts me. Fuck yes. I need that. Her pebbled nipples brush up against my chest, and I am so engorged I could explode.

  “Oh, holy fuck, Umberto,” she pants heavily. “I can’t believe we did this.” She cups her mouth. “I never do things like this. I swear.”

  “Well, I guess you do now, pretty girl and I’m happy to be the first.” I pull away from her and catch my breath, trying to calm down my dick.

  “Who knew that the quiet Italian man I met in a coffee shop would have such a big dick and finger fuck me so good,” she murmurs. I don’t think I was supposed to hear that, but it makes me laugh.

  I grab my crotch firmly and raise a brow. “You’ve never been fucked by a stallion like me, baby. I can tell you’ve never had that sweet snatch gobbled up by a proper man have you?”

 

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