Sweet Pain: A Dark Mafia Billionaire Romance (Amatucci Family Book 3)

by Sadie Jacks

  Her sexy quirk as she slid her fingertips over my abs and down to my hip bones had my dick giving a half-hearted attempt to meet her. She slid lower on my body, settled over my thighs. She gently picked up my sleeping cock in her hands. Rubbed her fingers all over it.

  The expression on her face…I’d only seen it one other time. When I was watching her bake at her store. The look of pure enjoyment and dedication as she mixed the ingredients. Added the icing and layers to the massive book cake for the client she really liked.

  Her touch was soothing, comforting. She was also hot as fuck and twice as spicy. My brain was ready to take her again. My body was more than happy with the current situation. Maybe I wasn’t quite so young anymore.

  I snorted.

  She looked up at me. “What are you thinking in there? Or did I disgust you?” She tipped her head to the side, not removing her hands.

  I laughed. “Definitely not disgusting me, cupcake. Just thinking that as much as I want to make love to you again, I’m also perfectly happy just watching you touch me. It’s…” I searched for the right word. “…better than a daydream.”

  Her smile was breathtaking. “That’s how I feel every time you touch me.” She opened her mouth to say more, but her stomach decided to make itself known. The loud grumble sounded almost painful in its intensity.

  Her cheeks went rosy as she clutched at it. “Sorry.”

  I sat up, wrapped her in my arms. “No worries. Let’s get some food, finish the mountain, and then watch a sappy movie so I can feel you up when I think you’re distracted.”

  Her peel of laughter was a ray of sunshine in my dark life. “You’ve got yourself a deal, hero.”

  Chapter 10 – Willow

  We got cleaned up and dressed. Made our way back out to the clothes mountain. This time around, when I saw a duplicate, I just thanked it for helping me and tossed it in the DONATE pile. I wasn’t going to drag myself down for coping in whatever way that worked.

  I was still standing wasn’t I? Still happier now than any time before in my life. Outside of a couple measly snafus, I thought my life was landing on the side of good more days than not.

  I chuckled. Measly snafus. Kidnapping, torture, shot at, almost run off the road, attempted murder…easy peasy.

  **

  “I think I see the floor,” Ryker said a couple hours later.

  I jerked my head around to look at his side of the room. “No way. This pile is never ending. I’m pretty sure it was breeding and copying itself while we had sexy times.”

  He snorted. “Probably true. But look.” He stepped into a section of floor without any clothes on it. “Bare floor.” He did a little dance that looked like he was either shopping or spanking something. I wasn’t quite sure.

  “Oh sweet goddess, thank you.” I tossed another pair of pants to the KEEP pile. I surveyed the remaining smaller stacks of clothes. “Can I make blanket decisions so we can be done?” I put my hands together like I was praying, lifted them to my chest. Gave Ryker my best puppy dog eyes.

  He laughed. “Hey, it’s your stuff. You can do whatever you want with it.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “The stuff I wanted you to keep has already been decided on.” He jerked his chin at a smaller pile.

  I smiled, shook my head. “Had I known you when I first escaped, I could have saved myself a fortune. Slutty, strappy, and barely there seem to be the bywords you live by when it comes to party wear.”

  He glared at me. “Party wear, my ass. That’s for here at home. No other men get to see you in those.” He stabbed at the pile of sparkles and see-through fabric.

  My smile went a little sneaky. “So I can wear it tomorrow night with the girls?”

  I felt like if I listened hard enough, I could hear the steam whistle as it came from his ears.

  I smiled wider. “No boys allowed, remember?”

  He snarled. Shook his head. “No. Just me. Besides, if you’re having a sleepover, won’t you be in pjs or something else equally innocent?”

  I laughed, the sound smokier than I’d thought myself capable of. “Something like that. But fine, you don’t want me to wear them, I won’t.” I’d wear something even shorter and more revealing. Granted it would probably just be a matching lingerie set, but if he was going to get dictatorial, then I was going rogue.

  He narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to make me regret this, aren’t you?”

  I smiled, nodded. “I’m so happy we know each other so well. But have no fear, hero, no other men will see me.” I winked at him.

  He groaned, threaded his hands in his hair, and tipped his back to look at the ceiling as if asking for divine help. “I love her. I love her. I love her. Playroom’s off limits. Playroom’s off limits. Playroom’s of—”

  My ears perked up at the second set of chants. “Playroom, what?”

  He lowered his head. Shook it. He bared his teeth at me. “No. Not happening. Not even for those sexy green eyes of yours or that delectable mouth that makes me hard too fast. I’m gutting it. Then we’ll outfit it together.”

  I licked my lips. “You think my mouth is delectable?”

  He groaned, stomped over the piles of clothes, yanked me into his arms. “Like you didn’t already fucking know that.” He took my mouth in a hard claim of possession.

  I would have laughed, but if my mouth made him hard too fast, then his turned me to liquid faster than a direct flame ignited newspaper.

  A subtle ding, ding, ding sounded.

  He groaned, set me back. “Not now,” he growled.

  I caught my breath. “What’s going on?”

  “Someone is trying to come up in the public elevator.” He walked to the side table, grabbed up his phone. After he unlocked it, he tapped the screen a couple times. Sighed. “Apparently, Foster has been talking to my mother. She’s on her way here.”

  I felt my lungs seize up, shook my head. “Ryker, she hates me!” I started scooping all the clothes up. Stuffing them back into the suitcases. Luckily, the biggest pieces of luggage were empty. I could fit it all in two of them.

  I scooped up another arm load. Stuffed it into the dark depths. Flipping the lid over, I sat on it. Jumped a bit. Wrestled with the zipper.

  I was jerked up and into his arms before the zipper moved by one freaking tooth. Asshole suitcase.

  “She doesn’t hate you. She hates your father,” he said, his grip on my chin was light.

  Snarling, I glared at him. “Who fucking doesn’t? But she hates me, Ryker. Me, not just Winslow. The woman moving in with you. The one you love. No one is good enough for her little boy. I know mothers like her.” I could feel the sorrow eating away at my confidence of moments ago.

  Hell, my own parents farmed me out and paid my taker ten fucking million dollars to take me off their hands. I was no one’s version of perfect for her son. If my own mother couldn’t love me—fuck, she couldn’t even stand me—how was this woman going to even accept me?

  Ryker’s arms closed around me until I struggled to breathe. Until the pinch of his touch settled my brain like a blanket snuffed out a fire. I went limp as the pain surged through me enough that my brain shut up with her whirlwind anxiety.

  “You done listening to the shitty voice in your head?” he asked, his voice tight.

  I nodded, laid my head on his shoulder. “Yeah. Sorry.”

  He squeezed me again, just a little tighter, before he let me go. “Look at me.”

  I turned my face up, met his bright green gaze.

  The low burn of anger and love battled in their depths. “I want you to get along with her. But if you don’t want her here right now, then I’ll send her away.”

  I gulped, tried to push down the sound of my pulse in my ears. The first—and last—time I’d met Daphne Sheridan, it hadn’t gone well. Like, at all. Jessa had been my champion during that kerfuffle. Then Ryker slapped her back for her bad behavior.

  I’d like to get along with Daphne. At least be on friendly terms since I was keep
ing her son. Maybe even get close enough to enjoy the odd lunch sometime. But that wouldn’t happen if I couldn’t woman up. None of it would.

  I swallowed, gathered up my courage. Nodded. “I’d like to get along with her, too.”

  He crushed his mouth to mine. “I’ll make her leave if she gets mouthy or disrespectful.”

  Inside I cheered. Outside, I just smiled. “We’ll see how we both do.”

  He set me on my feet and went to the elevator. It opened just as he reached it. The doors slid open, admitting one Daphne Sheridan—elegant family law lawyer and pissed off, protective mother—into our midst.

  I winced when I saw her eye the collection of clothes and suitcases littering the floor like the dead after a war. Awesome second first impression. My smile was a little weak at the edges as I walked over to her.

  “Hello again, Mrs. Sheridan.” I held out a hand, tried to project confidence and being at ease.

  She gripped my hand. “Willow. Lovely to see you again.” Her smile was a little wilted, but I was chalking that up to maybe her having a bad day. As she released my hand, she stepped back.

  We stared at each other for a bit. I could feel myself wanting to shrivel up and die. Or throw myself out a window somewhere. Did penthouse windows open? Was that a thing? I could scream my love for Ryker as I plummeted to my death.

  “Well, this has been sufficiently awkward enough. Willow, I apologize for my rude behavior on our prior meeting,” Mrs. Sheridan said.

  My gaze flew to hers. Was I actually hearing this woman apologize? I nodded. “And I apologize for…stuff.” I waved my hand in a vague arc. I wasn’t really sure what I should be apologizing for, but I figured I should give it a shot.

  Her chuckle was rueful. She smiled, easing the stern look in her face. “You’ve nothing to apologize for. Standing up for my son, to his own mother no less, took no small measure of brass ones. If you can do that, and you make him happy, then I’d like to get to know you.” She looked around the room. “And the last time I checked, my son wasn’t a crossdresser, so I’m assuming these clothes are yours.”

  I snorted. “Ryker in a jumpsuit?” I shuddered. “Yeah, these are mine. I’m just cleaning them out, honestly. Too many—” I clamped my lips shut. This woman didn’t need to know the nitty gritty of my trauma.

  Her eyes lit with understanding. “Of too many.” She nodded. “I remember doing something similar when I left Ryker’s father. We women cope in whatever ways we can.” She looked me up and down. “Too bad I’m not shorter or you’re not taller. I’d think I’d like your style.”

  I laughed again. Looked at my yoga pants and sweatshirt. “Yeah, house cleaning style really is all the rage these days.”

  I looked at her elegant slim black pants, flowy sapphire blue silk shirt, and tall stiletto heels that she’d paired with tasteful chunky gold jewelry. As if this woman even knew was casual comfy wear even was. “Is this one of those girl moments when we try to out-compliment each other?” I asked, raising a brow.

  Her laughter reminded me of a much younger woman. “Perhaps. But that wasn’t my intention. You’re very direct.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Unless you’re a guy—”

  Ryker cleared his throat. Glared at me.

  I smiled. “I really only did the flirting chat thing before I met Ryker. I don’t really bother with pleasantries with women. We tend to confuse ourselves too often and then get butthurt when we don’t understand what’s really going on.”

  Ryker choked, coughed. Choked some more. I got concerned when his face went red and his mouth gaped like a fish.

  I rushed over to him. “What can I do?”

  He shook his head. Pointed to his throat. His eyes looked like they were bugging out of his face.

  I whirled around to his mother, my eyes wide. “Can he choke on nothing?” I screamed.

  Her eyes were just as wide as mine probably were. She pushed me to the side, leaned up on her tiptoes and blew a hard stream of air right in his face.

  He blinked. His eyelashes fluttered and he inhaled. The red slowly ebbed from his face. He took an unsteady inhale.

  I held my breath until he exhaled just as slowly. My breath hissed out between my teeth. I slapped his arm. “What the fuck was that, hero?” I wrapped myself around him, my arms around his waist before I took my next breath.

  His arms came up, petted up and down my back. “Sorry, cupcake. You startled me with that load of bullshit you just fed my mother. Then I’m pretty sure I tried to swallow my tongue.”

  I pulled back. Glared at him. “I did not just lie to your mother. Rude.”

  He laughed. “The way you talk to Jessa? There’s so much innuendo that I can’t tell if I’m superfluous as a guy or to join in on the party.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh please. Jessa and I are just playing around. We both like dick too much to ever become taco munchers.”

  Mrs. Sheridan snickered from behind me.

  I felt my cheeks heat. I’d forgotten she was there. I leaned my forehead on Ryker’s chest. “Mrs. Sheridan, is there any way I can convince you to wipe that last little bit from your memory?” I asked without removing my head from between Ryker’s delicious pecs.

  “Not on your life, dear. And please call me Daphne. I can understand Ryker’s confusion. Jessa is a fabulous girl.”

  I turned, saw her smile and wink at me. “Right? Just about perfect. It’s just too bad about that whole vajayjay thing.”

  Daphne arranged her face into a look of commiserating sorrow. “Indeed, my dear girl. Indeed.” She heaved a world-weary sigh. “C’est la vie.”

  Ryker shook his head. “No. Mom. No. You’re not allowed to get in on that. It’s disturbing enough as it is.” He shuddered. Turning, he glared at me. “No.” He shook his finger in my face.

  I snapped my teeth at him. “I’ll do what I want.”

  His eyes narrowed down into slits. His nostrils flared.

  “When it comes to talking with and about Jessa,” I hurried to add.

  He studied me for long moments. Nodded. Without another word, he looked at his mother. “So, how have you been?”

  Whew. Dodged that bullet. I’m pretty sure Daphne being here wouldn’t have stopped Ryker from hauling me up over a shoulder and then teaching me a lesson, sexy style, while his mother waited in the other room.

  “Oh, you know. The usual. Learned my only son thinks I’m dead but doesn’t bother to call me. Learned he’s also been involved with the local mafia scene.” She shrugged. It was elegant, passive aggressive, and beautiful. “A pretty boring day, honestly.”

  Ryker grimaced. “Sorry. Our lives have been a little crazy.”

  Daphne smiled. “So Foster says. Too bad I had to hear it from him.”

  I raised a hand. “That might be my fault. I’ve been a handful and preoccupying your son.”

  Ryker snarled low in his throat. “You’ve nothing to apologize for. De Silva brought this whole mess down on your head because of me. Not you.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daphne jerk. “Antonia de Silva?”

  Ryker and I both turned. Nodded. “What do you know about her?”

  Please don’t let her ask any questions. We were still under the no-go zone for talking about what happened in the bunker.

  “I can’t talk about it. Lawyer/client privilege. However, I will say you don’t want anything to do with her on a personal front.” She shook her head, her short blonde bob danced with the motion.

  Ryker snorted. “We won’t be worrying about it from now on. But yeah, not really one to add to the Christmas card list.” He stilled in my arms.

  I looked up at him. Saw his face had gone bone white. “What’s wrong?”

  “Back at the hospital. She said she had Corrie.” He looked at his mom. “Is Corrie alright?”

  Daphne’s brow wrinkled. “Why were you in the hospital? Ryker Anthony, what the hell is going on?”

  Ryker waved that away. “Corrie, mom. Is Corrie alri
ght?”

  Daphne nodded. “She was transferred for a new study her doctor applied for. She was pretty excited. I heard from her two days ago.”

  I felt my belly drop into my toes and she wasn’t my sister. Hell, I hadn’t even met the girl yet.

  “Call her. Now,” Ryker barked. “I want to talk to her myself.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. Stabbed at the screen.

  Daphne nodded as she opened her purse. “What is going on, Ryker?”

  “A few days again now, after her goons ran Willow and me off the road landing us in the hospital, De Silva sent me a box. It had a lock of Corrie’s hair, a polaroid picture of her, a piece of hospital gown, and a burner phone. De Silva called the phone as soon as the box was opened. Said she’d kidnapped Corrie.” Ryker paced back and forth in the clear part of the living room as he waited for his call to connect.

  It must have rang through to voicemail because he snarled, lowered the phone, stabbed the screen, and lifted it to his ear again.

  Daphne’s face had lost all color as well. Her hand was trembling as she raised her own phone. “Dr. Damien Banner, please. This is Mrs. Daphne Sheridan.” Her lips twisted at whatever she heard. “Then find him! And put me through to my daughter’s room.” I could hear the slightest quaver in her voice.

  I needed a phone. Curse it. “Ryker, do you have another burner?” I asked while he did the phone stabbing routine again.

  “Office, middle drawer.” He didn’t stop his pacing.

  I rushed down the hall. Dipped into each room until I found one that actually looked used. I darted to the desk. Yanked open the middle drawer. Powered the device on.

  My foot tapped a rapid staccato as I waited for it to get through it’s opening sequence. As soon as I saw that it was ready to go, I called Turo. Good thing I’d memorized all their numbers. I guess Turo’s suggestion—read order—that I memorize their numbers because I might not have my phone’s contacts readily available hadn’t been blowing smoke up my ass when I joined them.