by Bella Rose
“I want to do it,” Maggie argued. “We have this discussion once a week and I always win. Will you let it go?”
Jacob lifted their son from Maggie’s arms and held the baby carefully. Little Jake always looked so tiny in his father’s big hands. Maggie loved to watch her husband with their son. She was pretty sure the FBI would have been astounded to see the mafia crime boss turned daddy of the year.
“Turn on the nightlight,” Jacob requested. “I’m going to put him in his crib.”
Maggie flipped the switch on the tiny machine that threw a lighted picture of the night sky onto the ceiling of Little Jake’s room. She was pretty sure the baby didn’t care about the dark, but it sure made coming in here for a three o’clock feedings much easier.
“I’m ready for bed,” Maggie told Jacob with another yawn.
He turned away from the crib and wrapped his arms around her. “Is that right?”
“Unless you had something else in mind?”
His low chuckle still had the ability to make her insides melt with desire. Then he pressed a kiss to her temple. “Go take a look. I was planning to pamper you a bit tonight.”
Maggie was about to remind him that pampering right now could have meant new clothes that didn’t include baby spit up, but when she walked into their bedroom she promptly forgot her snide comment.
“Oh,” she said softly. “It’s beautiful.”
Jacob closed the door, turned on the baby monitor, and then poured her a glass of sparkling juice. “Since you’re nursing, I thought you might like to pretend with this.”
Maggie couldn’t help but smile as she took the glass of bubbly liquid. A fire was crackling in the grate and there was a huge, soft blanket on the floor before the hearth. She took another look then nearly giggled with surprise. “Is that massage lotion?”
“Just get out of that robe and lay down,” Jacob told her. “You deserve a back rub.”
“Oh God,” she muttered. “I think I just came.”
Maggie dropped the belt of her robe and tossed the garment aside. She felt a little hesitant about her body since having Little Jake. She was rounder and fuller, not to mention her breasts were pretty well off limits since she was nursing. Still, Jacob had made no secret of the fact that he still found her attractive. It was incredibly validating.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured.
Maggie settled on her belly before the fire. The air in the room was a little chilly, but the heat from the flames kissed her skin with welcome warmth. Then Jacob began working the mint scented lotion into the skin of her back and Maggie forgot anything else.
It felt so good to have his powerful hands kneading the sore muscles in her lower back. Then he moved up her spine and she felt a quiver of awareness inside her womb. This was her man, her husband, and the father of her child. Every part of her responded deeply to this knowledge and in seconds she was trembling with another sort of need altogether.
Jacob focused on her rounded backside. He worked the lotion into her skin and loosened her muscles. Then he moved to her thighs, spreading them gently apart and exposing her pussy to the air.
Maggie squirmed. “That feels so good, Jacob,” she whispered. “Please touch me.”
“As you wish.”
His hand quested lower, teasing the tops of her thighs and brushing over the fullness of her pussy lips. He tugged the coarse hair covering her sex. She arched her back and lifted herself off the floor. Then he slid one finger through the wetness of her flesh. He found the swollen nub of her clitoris and circled it slowly. The agonizing torture of his slow teasing made her moan.
“I’m going to fuck you, Maggie.” Jacob’s tone was rough with lust. “I want to feel you come on my cock. I want you to know that you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” she whispered hoarsely.
She was close to coming already. All it would take was the slow slide of his finger into her body. Her inner muscles clenched as she sought the pleasure of penetration in vain.
Jacob moved behind her. She heard the rustle of his robe as he laid it aside. Then he slid his arm beneath her belly and helped her get to her hands and knees. He caressed the globes of her ass and spread her cheeks to gain access.
She cried out when he dragged the head of his cock through her slit. The friction was almost more than she could bear. Maggie gasped with need. “Please, Jacob, please.”
Jacob could hardly hold back, though he knew he wouldn’t last once he was inside his wife. It still floored him that Maggie belonged to him. She was precious. She was everything. And as he fit the head of his swollen cock to her creamy opening, he knew he wanted to fill her with his seed and put another child in her belly.
“Jacob!”
There was both a plea and a demand in her voice. He surged forward. The head of his cock tunneled into her body until he could go no farther. The comforting muscles of her pussy caressed him and he was once again lost in the feel of this woman.
Jacob grabbed her hips and began to back out of her pussy. She arched her back, pushing her bottom against him and demanding wordlessly that he give her more. Thrusting back inside her, he let his body slap against hers. Soon there was a rhythm. Out and back in, and out until he was mindlessly fucking her and sending them both careening toward fulfillment.
She clenched the muscles in her ass tight and arched her back until the angle nearly had Jacob weeping with the intensity of friction. He felt the head of his cock nestle against the sweet spot so deep inside her body. She shuddered and then climaxed in a rush of sweet juices that drenched his cock and balls.
Jacob shouted and pushed into her body even harder. She squeezed him so tightly, her orgasm sending her to a place where she could only cry out while begging for more. He moved deeply inside her. Her clit rubbed maddeningly against the base of his cock. He felt the stirrings of his orgasm begin at the base of his spine.
Pinpricks of heat turned into rivers of fire that scorched him from the inside out. He held her tightly, wrapping his arm around her waist and plunging as deeply inside her as he dared. And with one last, desperate groan Jacob released his seed.
He convulsed against Maggie, filling her with his essence and giving her everything he had. It seemed to last forever as her pussy continued to milk his cock with each rolling convulsion of her inner muscles. And when they finally collapsed to the ground, Jacob pulled her as close as possible. He never wished to be parted from her again.
Time seemed to stop. The crackle of the logs on the fire was the only sound other than the settling of the old house. Jacob pulled the blanket up over their sweat slicked bodies. He couldn’t even be certain if Maggie was still awake.
“Jacob?”
“I wondered if you’d gone to sleep.”
She snorted. “You mean you thought you’d fucked me until I passed out? Silly man. It’ll take a lot more to make me lose my senses.”
“Is that a challenge?” he teased. “Because I’ll take that dare.”
“I wish you would.”
Jacob touched her face, tracing the line of her nose and the softness of her jaw. “Maggie, do you have any idea how much I love you?”
“You’ve mentioned it a few times over the last year.”
“You mean so much to me,” he said softly. “I’ve never looked back at the life we left in New York.”
She pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. “I haven’t either. Although sometimes I miss Courtney.”
“She could always come visit,” Jacob reminded her.
“I believe she’s afraid the FBI is still watching her.”
“At least they’re no longer worrying about you.” Jacob was satisfied with this outcome in particular.
“Yes,” Maggie agreed drily. “Isn’t it awesome that the Feds think I lost my marbles and retired quietly to the countryside to raise my illegitimate child?”
“Better that than the alternative,” Jacob reminded her.
There was a long pause. Maggie gen
tly brushed his chest with her fingertips. Her feather light touch was almost soul searing in the way it affected him. He was utterly and completely hers in ways he had never imagined possible.
“I love you, Jacob,” Maggie said quietly. “But sometimes I worry that you miss the old life.”
“Sometimes I do,” he mused. “But never enough to want that again.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” He struggled to make her understand. “Sasha and I grew up with nothing. We were both bastard sons of a man named Dolohov. He took us in, but we had to fight for survival in the family.” He touched his tattoos. “That is why I got these. To remind me that the only thieves who are punished are those that don’t set their sights on the biggest goal possible. It also reminds me that I need to know what that goal is before I even start down the path.”
“Seems wise,” Maggie agreed. “And now Sasha has taken your place.”
“And I’m glad of it.”
“I suppose this life will be equally exciting in its own way,” Maggie told him.
“How so?”
She nuzzled his neck tenderly. “Wait until we have a few teenagers under this roof. You’ll be needing to use some of that mafia boss mojo just to try and convince them that you’re cool enough to take advice from.”
“Heaven help us all.”
Maggie kissed him, letting her tongue skate across his lips in the most delicate of caresses. “We don’t need help, Jacob. We just need each other.”
He rolled her onto her back and proceeded to kiss her until he could no longer remember anything that had come before, or worry about what might happen after. They had now. It was enough.
The End!
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Chapter One
The bell on the front door of the flower shop jingled a merry little tone that filled Katrina Sokolov with a sense of nostalgia. She had been away from her father’s shop for nearly a decade. Katrina loved school, but it was also good to be back home with her father and sister.
“Can I help you, Maksim?” her father asked.
Katrina glanced up from her place at the tiny desk in the back of the store. She had been researching the online courses she needed to take in order to finish her foreign policy degree. Now her attention was focused on her father. She had never heard him sound this way with a customer.
“Good morning, Denis.” The man called Maksim sauntered further into the store.
Katrina looked him over in fascination. She was an academic in every sense of the word. It was simply how she looked at things. Her brain analyzed and collected data, and she never made a judgment without first having all the facts.
She was about to make an exception for this man called Maksim. The only word that popped into her head when she saw him was scary. He had a brawny six-foot tall body and hands that looked like they could crush skulls. His hair was dark and shorn close to his scalp. He looked like a thug, and not the kind who wanted to buy flowers for his mother.
“Katrina.” Her father glanced sideways at her, refusing to meet her gaze. “Why don’t you run down to the corner and get us some good coffee from Mamacita’s?”
“It’s after one o’clock.” Katrina frowned. Why would her father want coffee in the middle of the afternoon?
She stared for a moment, trying to reconcile this odd behavior. It had been so long since she’d been home. During her years at Saint Asonia’s Academy in Miami, she had come home at Thanksgiving and Christmas, but she had spent summers at school doing special study programs. When she’d graduated high school and gone to college, her father and sister had come to spend Christmas with her. Since coming home, she had realized how much her father seemed to have aged while she’d been gone.
Her father drew a few folded bills from his wallet. “Please, Katrina, just go get us some coffee.”
“But—” Katrina shut her mouth abruptly when Maksim shot her a look of pure annoyance.
O-kay. She gave an exaggerated sigh and closed the browser window on her laptop. Casting more than one surreptitious glance at this Maksim character, she slipped her feet into her sandals. What was this guy’s problem anyway? Who really needed total privacy to buy flowers? It was ridiculous!
“Katrina!” Her sister Nika appeared from the rear area of the store where she had been stripping thorns from the roses they used in most of the arrangements. “I’d really like one of Mamacita’s blueberry muffins. And a latte, with real whipped cream, please.”
Katrina wrinkled her nose at her sister. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to get rid of me for some reason.”
Her father and sister exchanged a look of alarm before their faces settled back into their bland looks of indifference. Katrina frowned again and grabbed her purse. What was going on? If looks could kill, Maksim would have scorched her backside by now with the sheer ferocity of his glaring disapproval.
Katrina pushed her way out of the shop. The quaint main street of Hollywood, Florida offered a lot to tourists. Consequently there were always about a million people on the sidewalks gawking at the palm trees, the blue sky, and the variety of storefronts. Pausing near the curb outside her father’s shop, Katrina threw her head back and closed her eyes. The sun was warm on her cheeks. She loved how the air always seemed scented by the bougainvillea and lilacs her father grew in the courtyard just beside their building.
She glanced back at the shop and the three tiny second-story windows of their upstairs apartment. When she’d been growing up, she had felt self-conscious about the fact that her family lived above their store. Those feelings had faded with time. Now she sometimes missed the cramped but cozy quarters she had shared with Nika and their father for so long.
Something inside the shop caught her eye. Frowning, Katrina peered through the flowers Nika had painted on the windows. She could hear the low murmur of a harsh male voice. Maksim pointed emphatically at her father.
What. The. Hell? Why was this asshole threatening her family? At least that was what it looked like. Maksim’s face was contorted with anger, and her father looked apologetic and small. When had he started to look so frail?
Katrina watched her father bow his head. His hair had long ago turned white and often stuck up at odd angles. He was a dreamy, forgetful sort of man who often got lost in the fronds of a plant as he carefully pruned and arranged greenery. As a child, Katrina had held an image of her smiling father with his hands in the dirt as he cared for his precious plants. To see that softhearted person being threatened by some no-good thug made Katrina mad as hell.
Yet what could she do about it? Her father and Nika plainly hadn’t wanted her around for the anticipated confrontation. Was Maksim a disgruntled customer? If so, Katrina was all for telling him to go find another flower shop to send flowers to his mother. If her son’s ugly behavior was anything to go by, the woman was probably a shrew anyway.
Frustrated, Katrina took the only option left open to her at that moment. She resolved to discover the truth behind this Maksim person’s involvement with her father and their store. But for now, she had been sent for coffee and a ridiculous blueberry muffin.
***
Ivan Petrov took an absentminded sip of his iced mocha and watched the barista behind the counter at Mamacita’s Bakery & Coffeehouse. He couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to have that sort of job, the kind where he had regular shifts and the work was simple and to the point. A barista’s only worry was whether or not they managed to put the ingredients int
o the machine in the correct order. Coffee made incorrectly was tossed and the order redone.
If only life was that simple. Ivan shift on his stool. He’d picked a place in the back corner where he had a view of the entire room. He always did that. It was a force of habit. In fact, it was probably something he had picked up from his father. Nicolai Petrov had been almost paranoid when it came to his personal safety. The irony of that particular hang up was that he’d died last year of a heart attack. The doctors had told Ivan and Maksim that their father’s high-cholesterol diet and complete lack of physical activity was responsible for his death at the age of sixty. In the end, none of his father’s paranoia had paid off, and he’d been finished off by his own poor decisions.
Ivan wondered sometimes if he and his younger brother Maksim had ever really paused to grieve their father. Or perhaps the truth was that neither one of them felt that there was anything to mourn. Their father had been a mean son of a bitch who cared for nothing beyond his financial holdings and his standing in the mafiya community.
Which was why Ivan was currently sitting in Mamacita’s drinking coffee at the absurd hour of one-thirty in the afternoon. Nicolai Petrov had been a bully and a tyrant. His territory in the Hollywood, Florida community was filled with those he had squeezed dry of everything. Money, resources, even their sons and daughters had been appropriated to fill the ranks of the Petrov mafia. Now Nicolai was dead, and Ivan was left holding the reins of something he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to deal with.
Ivan had an idea that it might be possible to be kind and honest in his dealings with the people in his territory. Yet most of these individuals had been ruled by fear and governed by hatred for so long that they didn’t know how to respond to a softer touch. To be seen as weak would have been the end of Ivan. Not just as the head of the Petrov family, but probably his life as well. So Ivan sent Maksim to play the strong arm as they tried to collect the mountain of debt their father had left unresolved with the hope that once they were on their feet, they could somehow create a softer way of running things.
