I think I know what she’s up to, but I don’t dare move a muscle. My jaw tenses in anticipation.
Her breaths speed up ever so slightly, hot puffs of air blowing against my cheek. I don’t move. I don’t dare scare her away.
But then she presses her forehead against mine in frustration, squeezing her eyes shut, and I can’t stop myself from pulling her body closer into mine.
“Will you kiss me?” she asks in the softest, cutest whisper, and my heart cracks wide open to absorb the sound.
I don’t even hesitate to respond, closing the small distance between our lips and pressing mine to hers. I feel her eyes flutter open in surprise, but I press my hand to her cheek, rubbing my thumb gently against the side of her brow, and soon I feel her eyelashes fold back down.
Holding her jaw, I deepen the kiss, brushing my tongue against hers.
My other arm presses her curves flush against my body, and I moan at the feeling. Fuck, she feels so good. Her arms curl around my neck, pressing her full breasts against my chest. I start trailing open kisses along the corner of her lips and down her jaw, giving her a chance to breathe.
“You okay, baby?” I whisper against her neck.
“Mhm.” She nods. Her eyes are still closed, and her swollen lips are pressed up in a happy smile as she brushes her nose against my cheek.
I give her lips one final peck, using my thumb to rub off her smeared lipstick before picking her up in my arms. Her legs immediately wrap around my waist, testing my steely resolve. I promised her I could go slow, I remind myself, walking her inside and settling her into my lap on the couch.
“You wanna watch a movie?” I ask, curling around her until I’m touching as much of her body as I can reach. She’s so small, wrapped against me like this with her knees folded up to her chest.
She nods her head, her eyes already at half-mast from the excitement of the night. Not even twenty minutes into the film before she’s fast asleep, head pressed against my chest. I take the quiet moment to memorize every small freckle on her face, the curve of her dark eyelashes. Her lips separate slightly in a pronounced bow, deep breaths falling against my neck in soft synchrony.
When I’m sure she’s fast asleep, I lift her small body back up into my arms and carry her to my bed, unstrapping her heels and tucking her into the soft blankets. As I hover at the doorway, flicking off the lights and casting the room into peaceful darkness, I silently vow that the next time she sleeps in my bed, she won’t need to wear her dress from the night before.
Mikhail
I’m lounging out on my balcony, breathing in the crisp night air and trying to forget about the presence of the beautiful woman currently asleep in my bed, when I hear the ring of my phone from inside the home office.
I jump up and rush in the direction of the ringtone, strolling through the living room and past the shut door to the bedroom.
Cassandra has only been asleep for a few hours, and the last thing I want to do is wake her up and allow her to escape our amazing night together like some sort of shameful one-night stand.
I’m just about to unlock my office door when I look down and notice the hinge already bent, the entrance to the room wide open.
I never leave my office unlocked.
Setting aside the issue for later, I round the wooden desk and pick up my phone. The unknown number has a sense of foreboding rising in my chest. Only a select few have access to my personal phone, and yet, the strange collection of numbers flashes across my screen, the area code just close enough to have me tensing my jaw in apprehension.
I send the call through and raise it to my ear.
“Hello, Mikhail. I heard you’ve been having quite a few transportation issues these days.”
The familiar, unnerving grate of his voice has my stomach twisting in deep, generational anger. Cassio is the head of the Italian Mafia. The man who ended my father and brothers’ lives in the span of a single night. He is the one who created the mess I’ve dedicated the last several years to trying to clean up.
“I should’ve bet money on it being you, Cassio.” I keep my voice level controlled. Years of surviving under my father’s fists taught me to hide my emotions before this bastard put a bullet in his head.
“So much anger, ragazzo. So similar to your dear, late father.”
“Watch it,” I hiss, my composure cracking for just a moment as I wrap my fingers around the edge of my desk. I’ve spent years purging his rot from my organization, and I won’t let him bait me into breaking now.
“And I hear you’ve found a woman,” he continues, signing death warrants with every fucking word. I may only be able to kill him once, but it won’t feel like it by the time I’m done with him.
“...such a pretty, young thing she is, too.”
“Leave her alone, Cassio.” The words come out steady, but my knuckles are white against the desk.
The dead fucker has the audacity to laugh into the phone, the revolting sound trickling into my ear.
