Page 14 of Stroke of Luck

This time he removes his finger but lazily keeps licking as if I’m his favorite flavor of ice cream. Finally finished with me, he carefully lowers me back to my feet before he scoops me up bridal style and sets me on the tufted bench in the closet.

“You are going to be dangerous to my wardrobe, aren’t you?” Othello muses as he removes yet another shirt I’ve ruined in the span of thirty minutes.

I can’t help but laugh, high on endorphins from the best oral I’ve ever had, given by a man who I think I just agreed to marry. The whole thing is nuts, and I can’t even begin to wrap my brain around it, so I don’t. It can wait until later.

“Am I high right now, or did you just make a joke?” I tease.

“You’re high,” Othello answers as he hands me back my underwear. “And if you ever bring it up, no one will believe you.”

Wriggling back into my undies and jeans, I snatch up my shirt. “Why is there some rule that no mafia bosses can have a personality? Seriously, you’ve been the hardest nut to crack. I even got Remo to laugh before I got you to snap.”

“Baby girl, what just happened was not because I snapped. I’ve wanted to taste you since I saw you in the button-down shirt with only those lacy panties underneath. If I ever snap, you’ll know it, and I doubt it will be anything you’ll enjoy.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m a pretty open-minded person. I’m always willing to try something once. Scratch that—I don’t do bodily fluids. I draw the line at getting pissed or shit on, so sorry if that’s your kink. It’s just not for me. Though I’m sure we could work out something where we find someone who can let you have that part of your fantasy…”

Before I can continue my ramblings further, he slaps a hand over my mouth. “Skyler, that is not a need I have.”

Reaching up, I pull his hand away, frowning at him. “Geez, didn’t anyone ever tell you to use your words? No need to smother me.”

“I’ll remember that for next time. Come, we have more that we need to discuss with the others, and that’s not happening in my closet that now smells like you,” Othello informs me as he ushers me out.

“Please don’t tell me you have another bomb to drop on me. I think two is about all I can handle in a week, not to mention the whole memory loss thing.”

Othello glances down at me as we walk. “You are part of La Famiglia now—and my woman—so there are certain things you need to be involved with and others that you can’t know at all.”

Rolling my eyes, I sigh as we enter the elevator and he pushes the B button.

“This house has a basement? Please don’t tell me it’s a dungeon or somewhere you torture people who’ve wronged you.”

“Don’t believe everything you see on TV—it would be stupid to do that in my own house. We have a whole other location where Remo and his men deal with such matters discreetly.”

“Of course. How silly of me. You’ll have to forgive me, I’m still trying to catch up on all things mafia. New to the world and all,” I snark as I step out of the elevator.

Othello grabs my hand, stopping me to look at him. “You will need to learn quickly, mia regina. Once the world knows who you are to us, there is no telling what could happen.”

“Now you tell me this?! Hell no. I change my mind, I’m out of here,” I snap, yanking my hand out of Othello’s grip. “All I want for my life is to be free and paint. All this is going to do is keep me from my dreams.”

I head for the stairs, but Remo is there blocking my way. “It’s too late for that, coniglietto. We will not let you go—we have claimed you as ours.”

The fire that burns in her bright green eyes at my words make me even more sure of the fact she belongs with us.

When I first saw her at the bar—I noticed her long before she ran into Othello—I knew that if she didn’t crash into his world he’d never notice. After losing his father and taking over the family business, he’s become even more rigid and cold. To this day, I don’t know if he’s ever given himself the chance to mourn his father or if he’s still holding it deep inside, unwilling to crack that Pandora’s box. This woman standing before me, unafraid, might be the only one to break down his walls. I can already see it happening.

Othello’s gaze meets mine over her head, burning with the same possessiveness I’m sure my own holds. Something happened while they talked. He’s made a choice, and even though he hasn’t come out and told the rest of us, I know my job. I’m to keep him and all that he rules over safe and where it belongs, even if it doesn’t want to be.

“The fuck are you talking about?! I thought we already went over this—I belong to no one but myself. If I don’t want to be here anymore, then I’m sure as hell not going to be stopped by you,” she snarls.

Ah my little coniglietto is fierce, and I might have given her the nickname before I knew her, but she will still be the prey I chase for the rest of my days.

“Do you know who Remo is? What he does for me?” Othello asks, a smile tugging at his lips.

She whirls and places her hand on her hips. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what he does for you. I’ve been fighting for my freedom my whole life. He’s got nothing I ain’t had to deal with before.”

“Oh? So your parents also have an enforcer on staff, do they?”

I want to flinch as he lays out what I am so bluntly. Women wanted a taste of danger, but they never chose to settle down with someone who had blood on his hands. I’m not ashamed of my work; I’m good at it. Although now that I’ve climbed the ranks, I send others to do the dirty work, but there are still situations that call for my presence.

Skyler still has her back to me, and I watch for any sign of what she might be thinking. As much as I want to say that I wouldn’t keep her here against her will, I can’t. When I said we’d claimed her, I meant it—she can run, but I’ll find her and bring her back as many times as it takes for her to get it.