Maid For The Mafia Informant: An Instalove Possessive Alpha Romance

by Flora Ferrari

  “I don’t know how you got to her, but a crooked DA is no concern of mine, De Falco. She’ll have her own trial coming up, along with yours. I promise-”

  He cuts me off, pure venom in his voice now. “I don’t know how you thought you could get this far and not pay you little cunt!” he spits, knowing he’s this mad gives me a mild satisfaction and I feel my lip curl.

  But he’s right.

  Nobody embarrasses De Falco for long, not without reprisal.

  “I never told them to frame you for my disappearance,” I comfort him. “That was a police-media thing. As you know, I’ve been living in a damned cave for what, a week now? Two? Don’t even have a cell still…” I tell him truthfully.

  “If I can find your girlfriend’s phone number, I can find her… and then I’m coming for you,” he says coldly before hanging up.

  Deal’s off, I guess.

  Not that I wanted to play his game. I’ve represented De Falco and his family for years, and dozens more just like ‘em. They kill each other when things don’t go to plan, why should they give me a break?

  They just want me to slip up, to give away a detail so they can zero in.

  Like the sounds of the waves at the beach…

  Fuck!

  It’s not much to go on, and I tried to keep the call short, but the feds aren’t the only organization with their own intelligence.

  If I’d hazard to call it that, on either side.

  “He knows we’re here, doesn’t he?” Sophie asks, shivering as I hold her again.

  “No, no he doesn’t,” I tell her firmly, wishing I could believe that a hundred percent myself.

  “He couldn’t,” I reason quietly.

  “What do they want?” she asks but makes a sound that sums up just how hopeless it is to even bother trying to reason with these types of people.

  “Just everything their own way, as usual,” I remind her. “But we are safe here, Sophie, please believe me,” I tell her, holding her elbows as I look into her eye.

  “Enrico’s not just some two-bit car guy… he’s… he has his Mexican friends. People that the likes of even De Falco wouldn’t want to cross.”

  “Great,” she groans, making me wish I’d never gotten her into this mess. But if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have her, so a fair price for both I say, and I tell her so.

  She hugs me, tight.

  “Let’s get inside,” she says, and I agree. The passkey clicks the front door open and in seconds we’ve both almost forgotten the phone call.

  Enrico’s little Villa is more like a palace. A stronghold built right into the side of the whole cliff face.

  The front of the place, the whole upper floor is a bit of a bluff. Wide, sandstone steps take us into a sunken lounge area with a balcony, pools, and a perfect view of the ocean.

  Further investigation reveals more doors, solid doors that all open with our passkey, letting us inside deeper levels, with bedrooms, bathrooms, and more sumptuous living areas.

  If things get tight, we can always barricade ourselves in here I reason with myself, a thought I’d never share with Sophie. Even though I can tell she’s thinking the same thing.

  “What did you help Enrico with?” Sophie asks me, a coy smile playing on her lips as she hooks her hands around my waist, keeping me captive until I confess all I know.

  I chuckle, almost struggling to recall.

  “A car theft ring, nothing major though,” I remember.

  “Nothing like the size of the one he has now?” she rebukes and we both laugh because that’s true, for sure.

  “I can trust him though, he’s an honorable man. I got him out of a jam and he always said he’d help me if I ever needed it.”

  Looking around, I almost feel like I owe Enrico an apology for the way I treated his man today, but even that I know he’d back me up on.

  Nobody has their woman spoken to like that. Nobody.

  I almost have to shudder the thought away, not wanting to spoil our moment.

  “How about that lunch?” I ask her, greedily lifting her blouse and slipping my hands up inside, my mouth on her neck as I nibble at her, making her squeak with pleasure as she pretends to fend me off.

  “Don’t forget Enrico’s plants,” she teases me, but I want her more than anything right now, and I push her feet apart with mine, letting a hand drift right up between her legs, making her moan so long and hard I know I’ve convinced her.

  “I want you so bad Sophie,” I tell her. “Every minute of every day, now, I just want this. I want to be inside you, pleasuring you. Nonstop, can you understand that?” I ask her, feeling her tremble under me in reply as her eyes close, rolling back.

  Her breath quickens into a purr of agreement as I scoop her up, debating whether to take over the couch or on a bed.

  We both stop as I carry her back up the arched hallway. The sudden and loud sound of a piercing alarm coming from somewhere.

  “What’s that?” Sophie asks, full of concern as we both sniff for smoke.

  “I dunno, let’s find out though,” I tell her.

  I keep her in my arms, tracing the sound to the kitchen which next to the lounge and balcony area has the most commanding view of the ocean.

  “There,” she says, stabbing a finger at the huge, stainless double door refrigerator.

  An LCD panel on one of the doors flashing, a computer built into the thing.

  I’ve seen these and always thought they were a dumb, overpriced idea.

  Sophie seems to know a little more than I do and taps the red bar that’s flashing.

  An image of Enrico suddenly appears, making us both gasp.

  “Don’t forget to water my plants, okay? And not too much,” he says, before welcoming us and waving goodbye.

  Some sort of pre-recorded reminder message from his own phone, sent to his fridge?

  I either gotta get out more, or maybe just leave the technology to Sophie from now on.

  She remarks on how cool the fridge is.

  Sold.

  The first thing I know I’ll have to buy now, for our place.

  The very idea sets both my mind and my heart racing.

  “We’ll have to get one then!” I tell her excitedly.

  “You mean it?” she asks, and it makes me happier than ever. That she’d agree so readily to the idea of ‘us’. Us needing a fridge that talks.

  Thanks, Enrico, I owe you one.

  “Well? Where are these plants?” she asks next, taking the edge off my hardness as she squirms to be let down. Suddenly more interested in watering than the plowing I had in mind.

  I suppose there’ll be plants along with the talking fridge.

  I needed a bigger place anyway.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sophie

  It’s like the villa has some kind of healing effect on our mood. Once we realize again just how remote it is, how secure it is too, Ben and I relax.

  I know Ben wants to spend all day in bed with me, but I also know he has work and now, we have some work of our own if we’re to earn our keep as Enrico’s guests.

  A little more poking around, out past the balcony and patio, reveals more of a stepped garden. A greenhouse too. Nothing spectacular, but more like something out of an old English cottage garden. The frosted panes keeping the worst of the sea winds off what looks like delicate plants and some cacti.

  Ben and I poke our heads inside, and then step in for a closer look, it’s certainly a hothouse, being a good forty degrees warmer in here than outside.

  I can’t wait to water everything and Ben reminds me about Enrico’s advice of not too much.

  “I guess I’ll start on lunch?” he suggests absently, not being anywhere near as keen on plants as I suddenly feel.

  I nod eagerly and set about finding the equipment to water Enrico’s prized plants.

  Everything’s pretty much laid out, almost as if Enrico has someone do it for him when he’s not here anyway.

  I sense Ben hovering a
t the door of the greenhouse. “I’ll be fine,” I tell him, trying to put the whole day so far behind us so we can relax for a bit and maybe even have some fun. But mostly, I want to calm things down so Ben can get on with his work, I know how important it is to him, how much he needs to do this.

  Eventually, he seems satisfied I’ll be safe in here and I hear him take off back up to the house.

  Hopefully to make some lunch. I’m starving.

  I get lost in the act of admiring the exotic looking plants, trickling just a little water into each so as to not overdo anything.

  The heat of the place gets to me when I’m done, and I make my way up to the house again, giddy from the heat but mostly from hunger.

  The smell of cooking reaches me before I get to the open patio doors, wafting out what I can only hope is enough to satisfy my instant and raging hunger, made stronger by the fact that I know Ben’s prepared everything himself.

  And it looks like, even at a glance, that the man can cook as well as he can...

  Oh. My. God.

  At a glance I can spot thick, crispy potato skins, fresh salad with guacamole and even thicker steaks sizzling on a grill.

  As Ben turns to grab something else, I’m not sure which is wetter, my mouth or my panties as I realize he’s wearing nothing under his red apron.

  Not a thing.

  His huge bulge at the front, matches his broad smile when he turns around again.

  I’m speechless, and still not sure which way is up or what I want in my mouth first. Him or the food.

  “I couldn’t find anything for dessert, so I’m it,” he says, matter of fact as I notice his bulge shifting into a thick line as he speaks, threatening to overtake my desire for food and replace it with his man meat.

  His eyes are on my body too, and I sense the moment when he’s about to sweep all the plates, food and everything right off the counter and just have me instead, so I change the topic.

  “Let’s eat!” I squeak, unable to take my eyes off his rippling flesh under that red apron, which I could swear was made just for him.

  Ben’s bulge twitches under his apron, straining against the fabric and I notice a dark spot emerging right at the tip, making me flush so hard I feel like yanking my clothes off, but his eyes are fixed on my chest.

  Looking down at my shirt, I can see what’s got him going.

  I must’ve gotten all wet again, something I seem to be so good at in his company.

  His low growls of interest are enough to make me dizzy but he forces himself and me to focus on eating.

  For now.

  “First lunch and then dessert,” he says with authority, making me nod as I suddenly remember how hungry I really am.

  We both eat greedily, sitting across from each other at the long stone counter top, each mouthful Ben takes feels like an invitation and he responds to each of mine with a bigger and heartier growl after each bit he takes.

  I’m getting hotter and wetter with each bite and by the time we’re almost done, it’s unbearable.

  Pushing my plate aside, I signal Ben I can’t take it one second longer and I strut around to his side of the counter, moaning out loud when I see he already has his apron lifted up over his thick, pulsing length, which is twitching in his hand.

  I fall to my knees, lurching forward, and take his length with both hands, which still leaves more than I can wrap my hands around he’s so big.

  I can’t stop myself, I need him inside me again. I want to touch him, to taste him. I suddenly want everything, everywhere, and right freaking now.

  I pump what I can in my hands until he moans louder, one of my hands stroking his balls as I marvel at their size close up.

  But it’s his length I want.

  My mouth travels up his veiny shaft, and I greedily try to fit his swollen tip into my mouth, but it’s useless.

  He’s just too big.

  I try and content myself with running my mouth over every smooth inch I can take until he commands me to stop, warning me he’s about to explode if he doesn’t take me here and now.

  Obediently, but with some regret, I let go and turn myself to face the counter, gripping the edges hard with both my hands as I turn my head back, cocking my brow as I hoist one leg up, balancing on the other.

  “Come get it,” I start to tell him, but he’s already halfway there.

  Ben matches my original idea, getting on his knees, yanking my clothes and tearing my skirt off, his thick fingers yanking my panties so hard to one side I swear I almost come on the spot myself.

  The same fingers are inside me in a moment, prying open my drenched lips and probing deeper into me until I feel my legs about to give out from under me I’m shuddering so hard.

  But Ben has a plan, he’s on his feet in a moment, and although I feel suddenly empty as his thick fingers disappear, I’m filled again straight way, his huge cock pushing deeper into me as I let my weight sag onto his strong legs, which feel like iron girders under me, his thick cock a steel piston which makes me curse loudly as it starts to heave in and out inside me.

  “Ugh! Fuck me Ben!” I command him, struggling to keep my grip on anything, feeling my whole body falling back, limp against his rock hard body as he grips my hips harder, pumping and groaning, growling to me that he’s waited too long for this moment. That he should’ve fucked me six times already today, my sweet pussy deserves it so much… it’s how bad he needs me, how bad he needs to come inside me once again.

  Hearing him talk like that is like he’s pressing a magic button somewhere and I start to shudder and convulse, completely helpless and not even caring I’m coming so fast from having him inside me.

  “I’m gonna make you come until you beg me to stop,” he promises, and I start to whimper loudly because it’s just what I need him to tell me right now.

  I want his hot, thick, fat cock deep inside me for the rest of the day, doing nothing but making me squirt all over it.

  I’ve never even thought like this, let alone voiced it. But something in Ben’s tone and my own arousal makes me want to tell him exactly what I need, and just how he’s the man for the job.

  He responds to my own dirty mouth by turning my head and pressing his to mine, his warm tongue still managing to tease my tonsils so gently as he fucks me from behind like a beast without skipping a beat.

  True to his promise yet again, I scream Ben’s name so many times I forget, and am completely boneless by the time I feel him swearing under his own breath, his legs tensing behind me as he fills me with his seed again.

  We both slump, exhausted onto the cold counter top, cool against the heat of our bodies.

  I shiver uncontrollably as he eases himself out of me after a time, not even trying to stop him as he scoops me up yet again, and carries me off to the nearest bed, where I sink instantly into the deepest, most restful sleep I’ve ever had in my whole life.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ben

  Enrico’s internet fridge, apart from keeping things cool is also a great way for him to send me messages privately and securely, including his Wi-Fi password, which I take full advantage of as soon as I lay Sophie down and after I’ve cleaned up a little.

  The apron stays though, something of a lucky charm for me so far, so I figure the longer I can stay dressed like this, the more Sophie is gonna be receptive to what I know she needs.

  What I always want to give her so badly.

  I venture out to the car to fetch my backpack, its dark out now and the cold sea breeze is bracing, invigorating me to finally settle down and do some work to try and find a way to slow down or even stop De Falco dead in his tracks.

  Tonight would be ideal at the soonest, but doing things by the book, legally is never a speedy process.

  I just need to find something I can shove under Partridge’s nose, under all the feds’ noses to expedite a conviction as soon as possible.

  My biggest enemy is my own work history.

  I’ve spent over a decade maki
ng sure every angle is stitched up water tight. And a hundred percent legal, from the outside.

  I curse myself for my own stupidity, but when I started out I was a younger man, more trusting and as much as I hate to admit it, I was greedy.

  It got the better of me, and they all preyed on it, paying me the bare minimum just to keep me going at first, then just enough, promising the big bucks when pay dirt came, which it never did.

  Powering up the laptop and finally being able to access my own email after what feels like a year but really is only nearly two weeks is a daunting task in itself.

  Thousands of emails.

  Literally thousands, which I have to break down into categories if I’m to make any headway before even looking at how far ahead I am on evidence and courts submissions.

  One name sticks out crazy big though, not for the frequency of her emails, but because of who she is: Daniella Fellini, the famous double-crossing Malibu Bitch Barbie District Attorney I wish the earth would just open and swallow up.

  There’s some standard correspondence, but the most recent email is from just a few hours ago.

  I must be a sucker for punishment, because as much as I can’t stand the idea of the woman drawing breath from the same atmosphere as me, I do need to find out what the fuck she’s really up to and how she fits in with De Falco and my existing suspicions regarding Agent Partridge.

  At some point I’m gonna need the DA’s office to make my case, so whether it’s her or her office I have to face it at some time and hopefully in the not too distant future if I’m to make any progress against the mob.

  She claims she went into protective custody once her own deputy District Attorney went missing, about the same time I did. Apparently at the time she really believed the news, which the De Falco family ran with, claiming responsibility for my murder.

  Fearing for her own neck, she followed Partridge and his agency advice to go into hiding.

  Not quite what fits in with my own version of events, like her screwing the guard who was assigned to watch over my door across the hall and then walking out with the mob once they trashed my rooms.