“Don’t knock it till you try it, is all I’m saying.” Aidan shrugs.
“I don’t know, I think I’m on Declan’s side on that one,” a voice as smooth as silk fills the room.
Turning around slowly, I’m met with the sweet scene of vanilla and cardamom and the sight of Zahra in a long black trench coat, the top half of which somehow manages to grip her curves like a second skin. The dark red lipstick on her plump lips matches the deep maroon of her velvet maroon thigh-high boots. By the time my eyes meet hers, there’s a mischievous glint to them. One that tempts me to find out just how lethal she can be.
“Sorry, we’re early. I didn’t mean to interrupt breakfast.” Zahra gives Maura an apologetic smile, no doubt winning her favor. “We can wait in the hallway while you all finish?—”
“Nonsense, there’s plenty for everyone. Why don’t you all take a seat? I’ll have the table set in no time.”
“We can help,” Zahra offers as she walks into the kitchen.
“Oh, there’s no need for all that?—”
Zahra shakes her head. “I insist. My mother raised me to always contribute, especially when someone invites me over as a guest. It’s the least we can do.”
I stay frozen in place as I watch Zahra undo her coat, button by button, desperate to see what she had on underneath. Shrugging off her top layer, she reveals a long-sleeved, deep red, fitted dress that falls right above her boots. My hands twitch, practically aching to reach out and caress her soft hips, that sway ever so slightly as she follows Maura into the dining room, plates in hand.
A vision flashes in my head, one where this is our normal, everyday routine. Me waking up to find Maura and Zahra in the kitchen laughing and teasing me about whatever dumb thing I had done earlier in the week. Eventually, I’d pretend to have had enough of the jokes and reach across the island, tugging her closer to me and throwing her over my shoulder back into my room, where I would apologize for all my past mistakes. First with my tongue, and then with my?—
“Dude, have some self-respect and get that under control. We’re not teenagers anymore.” Aidan jabs an elbow into my side, sending a pointed look at the crotch of my pants which had definitely stiffened in the last ten minutes.
“There was a cold breeze. From the window,” I snap, hoping he believes the excuse.
“Riiight. A breeze. If I may, I’d like to remind you that she killed a man in cold blood without a second thought in front of like a thousand witnesses,” he whispers.
“You can. If I can remind you that man put a bullet in me. And tried to kill her.” A rush of heat fills my body as I think back to how utterly tantalizing she was that night. The moment I laid eyes on her and that red silk dress that showed more of her chest and her soft legs than it did cover, I knew I was a goner. I spent that night schmoozing with the Boston elites who would want nothing more than to pawn their daughters off to marry me, and received a few decentlypromising proposals, and yet all I could think about was the one thing I couldn’t have. Zahra.
“God, look at you. Here I am talking about her splattering someone’s brains in front of you, and instead of being repulsed, you’re actually getting turned on. What the hell is wrong with you?” Aidan scoffs.
“I’m a mafia Don. Blood doesn’t make me queasy. I shrug.
“But somehow I’m the weird one for listening to self-help podcasts. This family is cooked in the head.”
“Boys, are you coming? Or do you plan on standing there gossiping to yourselves like we can’t all see you?” Maura scolds, her voice carrying over from down the hall.
Aidan bolts to the table, likely not wanting to piss off Maura and face her wrath like I had earlier. By the time I enter the dining room, the only seat left is the one next to Zahra, who’s deep in conversation with Maura. “I have to say, I’m maybe embarrassingly excited to finally try your famous strawberry scones. My dad would always rave about them.”
Maura’s eyebrows come together. “I always sent Naser home with extra for you and your mum.”
“Oh, I know. They just never made it home. He’d always scarf down the leftovers on the car ride back, and then apologize to me once he realized what he’d done,” she snickers before taking a bite of pastry. Her eyes shut close as she savors the bite, and the soft moan she lets out makes me want to drag her into my room and turn my daydream into a reality.
“They’re also Declan’s favorites. I remember the one time I made blueberry scones instead of strawberry. He didn’t talk to me for a whole week.” Maura rolls her eyes, taking a big swig from her coffee.
Zahra shakes her head at me. “That’s incredibly dramatic, don’t you think?”
“I was six!” I protest loudly. I don’t know what comes overme, but I lean closer so only she can hear me. “Plus, let's not pretend like you didn’t nearly orgasm a few seconds ago over how good the scones are.”
Her deep brown eyes widen, and I feel a sharp sting of pain in my ankle. “Did you just kick me?” I press my lips together, trying not to let the laughter spill over.
“You should just be grateful I went for one of my less aggressive methods to silence you. Next time I won’t be so generous.”
“Hmm, are you threatening to shoot me? Or just strangle me?” I tease.
“That depends. By the look on your face, my gut is telling me you’d like to be choked. If that’s the case, I don’t know much of a deterrent it would be for me to strangle you.”
The smirk on her face paired with the sultry heat of her voice have me wrapped so tightly around her aura I don’t even register someone else speaking to me.
“Declan,” Maura raises her voice slightly, “I asked you a question.”
