by Jenna Rose
“Your dad’s dead, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you did. Tell me, baby. How did he die? Was he sick?”
Her expression changes, and I feel her pain in my chest. It’s a sensitive subject, of course, but I have to ask. I need to know everything about her so I can keep her safe and happy.
“He was killed.”
I’m rocked by her response. I was not expecting that. Her father was killed, and she’s still such a happy, warm person? She really is an angel.
“I’m so sorry,” I reply. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
Ella sits back in her chair, and her gaze shifts inward. Christ. All the money in the world, and I can’t fix this for her.
“The police said it was a mistake,” she says. “Mistaken identity or something. He was getting into his car one night after having dinner with some business associates, and three men showed up and shot him.”
“I’m so sorry, baby,” I reply. My pain for her is something I haven’t felt in a long time, but there’s something beyond that—an itch in the back of my mind. Something about her story… “How long ago was that?”
“I was twelve,” she replies. “So…six years?”
That itch turns into a stabbing pain that hits me right in the heart. No. No, it can’t be. A dread seizes me. I’m the Ice Man, impossible to shake, impossible to crack, but Ella’s words have me terrified.
“In Los Angeles…?”
She nods. “Yeah. Downtown.”
No. Please God no.
The world is cruel; I know that, but this would be the cruelest joke ever played on a man.
Cold adrenaline dumps through me. I try not to show it, but Ella knows me already. She tilts her head to the side. “What? What is it, baby?”
I take a deep breath and grip the table for support. “Ella. What…what is your last name?”
Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.
“Corllando,” she replies. “Why?”
And then my entire world ends.
“Sasha?” Ella says with concern as she pulls her chair over beside me. “What is it? I’ve never seen you like this. Are you okay?”
“No.” I shake my head as everything comes crashing down.
Don’t tell her. You can’t tell her.
It will ruin everything.
But as I look at her—as I see the hope and innocence in her face, I know I can’t lie to her. She thinks I’m a good man, but this proves once and for all that I’m not. I have to tell her for her own good.
“Sasha, baby,” she pleads, her hand on mine. “Tell me. What is it?”
When I tell her, I can’t even look her in the eye.
“Ella. I…I killed your father.”
6
Ella
Stop. Why is he saying this?
Is this some kind of cruel joke? I wait, staring at his face, praying with every fiber of my being that he’s about to crack a smile and tell me it was all just some big joke. That way I can just be mad at him for being a little bit mean to me.
But I wait and wait and wait, and nothing happens.
Slowly, the tears fill my eyes. The expression on his face doesn’t change. It’s a vulnerability I’ve yet to see, even when we made love.
Christ…I just made love to the man who killed my father.
“Sasha…” I mutter. “What—what are you saying?”
“I can’t lie to you, baby.” Even his voice falters as he speaks. “Do you know what your father did?”
“He was an insurance salesman!” I cry out as images of my dad, proudly dressed in his suit and tie, waiting at the foot of the stairs to hug me before going to work, fill my mind. “Why would you kill an insurance salesman!?”
More pain washes across Sasha’s face. Seeing him this upset hurts me. They call him the Ice Man; couldn’t he stay cold right now for fuck’s sake?
“Your father wasn’t an insurance salesman,” he tells me. “He was known around Los Angeles as Big Frank. He…he was a gangster, Ella.”
“What!?” I yelp. As I stand, the sand twists beneath my feet and I fall. “No, he wasn’t, Sasha! He sold insurance!”
“Your father was a gangster who trafficked in women, Ella.” He sounds sincere. There’s real pain in his voice, but I don’t believe him. My father was a good man. He smiled every day and made sure I was always provided for. My mother and I loved him.
“This isn’t funny, Sasha.”
The sound of the ocean is in my ears. Suddenly the cool breeze feels invasive. The smell of the salt is sour.
“This isn’t a joke,” he replies. “I wish it was. Ella, more than anything I wish it was. But I have to tell you the truth. I couldn’t live with you if I didn’t. Your father was a gangster who sold women to men for money. He came at me, and I had to do what I had to do.”
“No…”
“He probably never showed you that side of him, but it was there. Believe me.”
I’m going to throw up. Tears spill from my eyes as I rise to my feet and turn away from Sasha. “Take me home.”
“Ella—”
“Take me home, I said!” My scream echoes across the waves as I stare at Sasha with a hatred I could have never imagined. He wants to say something, but closes his mouth and motions to one of his men who takes my arm and leads me over to the truck.
“I’m sorry, Ella,” I hear him say as I get in the back seat.
“I find that hard to believe…” I don’t say it to him. My voice is barely audible. I even doubt his driver hears it as he closes the door and pulls away.
I almost cry the whole way home, but I don’t want the driver to see my tears. I’ve already given Sasha enough—he doesn’t need to know how hard this hurt me. But when I climb the steps to the apartment I share with my mom, the sorrow seizes me, and I collapse crying just outside the door.
“Sweetie?” My mom’s voice comes from inside. “Sweetie, is that you?”
She doesn’t sound drunk, but you never know. After years and years of abusing alcohol, she’s gotten pretty good at hiding it. I look up as she opens the door, and even though she might not be the best mom all the time, I can see her concern for me.
“Mom,” I cry as she pulls me into her arms.
“Baby, what happened?”
I can smell the booze on her breath, and every ounce of hope leaves me. Somehow, I manage to get into the living room and slump down on the couch. I want to go to my room and curl up and die, but I don’t have the strength.
Could it be true? Could my dad have really done the things that Sasha said he did?
No, this is just Sasha’s way of getting rid of me. He knew he’d gotten himself in too deep with me, so he came up with a way to get rid of me.
My mom presses me to open up, so I give her a basic rundown of what happened after the Lakers game, leaving out the X-rated details, of course. She’s drunk, and I can tell she is astonished, but she manages to keep her focus on me.
“But what did he do to you, honey? Why are you crying?”
“Mom, I have to ask you something,” I manage to say through my tears. “And…and you can’t lie to me, okay?”
“I never lie to you, honey…”
“Yes, Mom, you do,” I reply angrily. But I stop myself; this isn’t the time to get into it with her. “But I need you to be honest with me now. Please, Mom.”
Even through her drunken eyes, I can see she does understand. There’s pain there too—pain from the fact that she knows that I know she’s lied to me. Just another wonderful part of having a drunk for a mother.
“Okay, honey. What is it?”
With a deep breath, I ask what may be the most important question of my life. “Mom, what did Dad do?”
Her expression is all I need.
Tears flood from my eyes, and I collapse onto the couch with my knees to my chest.
“Ella—”
“Don’t,” I sob. “Don’t say it. I already know…”
My mom stays with me while
I cry, but gets up a few minutes later to “use the bathroom.” But I know what she’s doing; she’s taking a drink. It’s an old trick she used to use when I was young. I discovered it when she would always come back smelling like mouthwash.
I feel more alone than I’ve ever felt. At least before Sasha came into my life I felt like I had a handle on things and could manage them. Now I don’t know what to do. He’s gone, my mom’s worse than ever, and the life I saw opening up in front of me has just slammed shut like a steel door.
I get maybe two hours of sleep and wake up feeling sick. My whole life seems like a lie now as I look back. Did my father really love me? How could he do such horrible things and come home to me and my mom and live a lie?
Then a sudden realization stings me like a wasp.
My mom did know. Maybe not at first, but later. She found out, and that’s why she started drinking.
I whimper and brace myself against the bathroom sink. I never understood why my mom behaved the way she did, but now I do. Congratulations, Dad, you didn’t just hurt her, you hurt me too.
She’s sleeping on the couch when I come into the living room. I can tell she’s still drunk, because the sound of me making oatmeal doesn’t wake her. I’m on my way back into my room when there’s a knock at the door.
“Who is it?” I call out, expecting to hear an unfamiliar male voice—one of Mom’s latest “suitors.”
“It’s Sasha.”
Frozen. The muscles in my body go tight, and I almost drop my oatmeal. How did he find me?
Of course. I gave my address to his driver. Duh, Ella.
Setting my bowl aside, I stride to the door and tear it open to find him standing there in a pair of black pants with a black collared shirt, looking like the grim reaper.
I can’t help but glare at him with nothing but rage. I hate what he told me. I hate my mom. I hate the way I look right now. I hate the fact that I still care about how I look to the man who killed my father.
But most of all, I hate my father for betraying me for all those years.
My heart feels like it’s being torn apart from countless different angles, like there are many fishhooks embedded in the tender muscle, and I don’t know what to do. Luckily for me, Sasha does.
“Come with me, Ella. I’ll give it all up for you. The life. Everything. None of my actions will ever harm you again.”
It’s a bombshell. His truth has changed things—changed me forever. Can we really get past this?
“I hate that I had to be the one to tell you, baby. But I couldn’t lie to you. Not…not when I love you so goddamn much.”
My heart stops for a second.
“You love me?”
Sasha’s eyes blaze, and he pulls me close to him. “You’re goddamn right I do, Ella. Now come back home to me where you belong.”
Epilogue
Sasha
Four years later…
I couldn’t be prouder as I watch my girl walk the stage, grab her diploma, throw her arms in the air, and flash a smile at me.
She did it. Her dream degree in marine biology. She did it.
“Don’t cry, Helen.” I smile, but her mom’s already dabbing the tears from her eyes.
“That’s my little girl up there!”
I put an arm around her to comfort her as the graduation ceremony finishes.
Like I said I would, I gave up my empire. I sold off territories to other bosses, made peace treaties, and got out of the life. I sold my house in Los Angeles and moved us up the coast to Malibu to get away from the city life. The enemies that remained had no reason to come after me. Our disputes weren’t personal; they were business, and with me out of the business, the point is moot.
I sweep Ella into my arms as she races over to me and make room for Helen to get in on the celebration.
“I’m so proud of you, baby!” she cries, causing Ella to cry too.
“Thanks, Mom! I’m so proud of you!”
Helen is eighteen months sober tomorrow, and we’ll be celebrating before Ella and I head off to the Caribbean for our own private getaway.
We get back to the house and have dinner prepared by my private chef, then dig into her mother’s homemade tiramisu that she insisted on making. One of the ways she’s managed to stay sober has been by finding hobbies to keep her busy. One of those hobbies is baking.
After we’re finished, she cleans up, despite me telling her that I have people to do that for us, and heads to her room. She doesn’t always stay with us, but I gave her a room on the first floor for when she wants to. It’s also on the other side of the house so she doesn’t have to hear the things I’m doing to her sweet little daughter.
Speaking of which…
“Baby, that feels so good,” she moans as I slide into her back entrance, my left arm wrapped beneath her, gently caressing her pleasure button that’s dripping with arousal. “Just go slow at first, okay?”
“Of course, my love,” I whisper into her ear as I ease my inches inside her untouched hole. “I told you I would fuck you here one day.”
“Wow…”
Her voice is breathy, intense. I rub her gently and feel her tense up around my girth with each circle around her eager little nub. Now I have fully claimed her—every inch of my gorgeous wife’s body is mine.
“Do you love it?” I purr into her ear as I fight to hold out. “Because I bet you can tell I do.”
“I can,” she moans. “You’re so hard. And yes, baby. I love it. Give me more.”
Ella’s appetite matches mine; we simply can’t keep our hands off each other. Once in the morning and once before bed would be a bad day for us. I made a no-pantie rule for a while, so I would have easy access, but once Ella discovered her love for lingerie and started dressing up for me, I let her do whatever she wants.
I fuck her slowly, coaxing her toward orgasm. I move slightly so I can watch her; I want to see the look on her face when she comes. It’s always beautiful and slightly different every time.
When she gets there, I get there too. I move to pull out, but she stops me.
“No. Inside. I want to feel what that’s like.”
“Fuck,” I grunt as my hips buck forward, driving me deeper inside than I had meant to be. But she doesn’t recoil or flinch. In fact, she moans, long and hard into the pillow as we come together. I slow my touch and stay there, gently pecking at her ear until finally slipping out of her.
“God, baby,” she whispers. “I was scared, but that was incredible! I’m like…I still can’t believe that just happened!”
“You took it so well, baby.” I smile, wrapping my arm around her. “I think we should make it a regular thing. Every other day?”
Ella flashes me a look and shakes her head. “Try every other week. Unless you really don’t want me to be able to walk.”
“That’s a good point,” I chuckle. “But you might have to fight me off of you now that I’ve gotten a taste…”
I grab her ass and squeeze it hard, hard enough to make her jump and twist onto my chest. She nuzzles me, and we kiss as the last rays of sun vanish over the Pacific Ocean.
“Sasha,” she whispers.
“Yes, my love?”
“Since I graduated, I was thinking of going off of the pill.”
Christ. It’s like she’s been reading my mind. Waiting four years was hard enough. All I’ve wanted to do is knock her up and make a mother out of her. But she wanted to get her degree, and I wanted her to get it, so we waited.
“That sounds like a great idea to me, baby,” I smile. “Perfect actually.”
She reaches between my legs and grips my cock, which is still nice and hard.
“Come on, Ice Man,” she teases, biting her lip like she knows I love. “Put a baby in me.”
“With pleasure,” I smile. “God, I love you.”
“I love you too, Sasha.”
THE END
Available now!
A Billionaire, boss-employee romance.
HANDS ON
One touch was all it took...
I just wanted a masseuse. Really, I did.
But then she walked in looking for work...
...and the job description changed.
I gave her the position, and now I'm about to give her everything else.
There's just one thing standing in my way, but that's not going to stop me.
I'm going to claim her and make her mine forever.
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I love me a short hot read; there is something about these stories that just recharged my spirit. This story was just that, insta lust/love, hot and fun!
I always look forward to reading this author books and can wait to get my hands on all her new releases. This is book #1 in the series His Only Desire #1 and I cant wait to read the second in the series. This book is a real romance story and a real Insta love book that I totally loved.
Short read, just what I need, check. HEA and heat index H.O.T., check. This was one story I loved reading and couldn't put down!
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