Punishing Thirst : Mafia Romance (Rough Redemption Book 1)

by Olivia Fox

  Big mistake.

  My auntie’s voice snapped me out of it, “You had a terrible experience, Savanna, but a gentleman walks away when a woman isn’t interested. Dante is a gentleman. I’d bet my bakery on it.”

  We spent the last hour of the day polishing the place until we could see our reflections in the chrome and glass display cases. The manual tasks was meditative.

  “Dante’s had his share of trouble, too,” she said before leaving.

  “How so?” I asked.

  “A drunk driver hit and killed his fiancée three years ago. They were about to be married. Tragic, really,” said my aunt.

  “Oh, God, that’s so sad,” I said.

  “Would you feel better if I stuck around until Dante finishes with the flooring?”

  I thought about it for a moment. “No, I’m okay, auntie. I’ve got to interact with the world again sometime, and at least this is someone you know and trust.”

  “Okay, my love. I plan to go home and curl up with a glass of wine and a good book. I’ll see you in the morning.” She pulled me tightly into her arms, and her cinnamon sugar scent eased my troubles. I closed my eyes.

  I heard her lock the front door, and double checked it, doing the same with the back door, then headed upstairs to my studio. First thing I did was take off my bra to get comfy for the evening, then took my hair down, brushing it out.

  Looking in the medicine cabinet mirror above my porcelain sink, I assessed my features. It was hard to tell what I looked like behind the enormous glasses. I applied mascara and dabbed my lips with pink gloss. Encouraged, I threw on a striped crop top, mock turtleneck and high-waisted dark denim jeans that highlighted my waist and flattered my breasts and bottom.

  My pulse skittered.

  Why are you doing this?

  Because, for the first time since forever, my panties were damp with arousal, and my nipples rubbed readily against the front of my shirt.

  Before I could think twice, I heard the delivery buzzer ring at the back door. Grabbing an oversized cardigan, I threw it on and buttoned it up to the top as I dashed down the stairs.

  “Who is it?” I asked through the door.

  “It’s me, Dante,” his deep voice said from the other side.

  I was one part scared, two parts turned on when I opened the door and he stood there with his leather tool belt on, scowling, and holding a huge pizza box.

  “Brought pizza,” he grunted, and I laughed because it was so freaking obvious.

  Was he as nervous as I was?

  This would be a routine service call, except his enormous bouquet was sitting on the kitchen island like a pink shout in the middle of the room.

  “Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.” With a mind of their own, my fingers fastened and unfastened the top button of my cardigan.

  This wasn’t a date exactly. He was coming over to take care of my aunt, but I had to admit, my heart thumped faster as I stood there listening for an answer. The pulse of my blood became a bass beat in my ears.

  His lips kicked up at the corners and it punched the air out of my lungs—he was a beautiful man.

  Beautiful might not be a word he’d agree with, but all the other phrases I could think of fell short. His smile was unbearably handsome, totally altering his otherwise stern and chiseled features.

  Suddenly, I found myself crowded against the island.

  He was inches away.

  The memory of his attempt to prevent me from falling earlier made my cheeks burn. It seemed our bodies were hell bent on touching each other.

  “Do you want me to take your measurements?” he asked.

  “Excuse me?” I said.

  “For the non-slip flooring.” He gradually lowered his face towards mine, and I could feel the heat of his breath on my lips.

  I nearly moaned.

  His lips crashed into my mouth, demanding, and a wave of heat crashed over me. It was a kiss so deep that our souls fucked before our clothes even hit the floor, and I melted into him, allowing his tongue to explore my mouth.

  Lust exploded in every cell of my body.

  He pulled away, nostrils flaring, his green eyes darkened to the color of pine. “Like candy.”

  He took two steps back, and we stood staring at each other, breathing like long-distance runners after a race.

  Over a kiss.

  I didn’t feel...

  One.

  Bit.

  Frightened.

  Kissing Dante made me brave enough to jump off the high dive.

  His pecs swelled noticeably, and I wanted to shove up his t-shirt, lick every inch of them. Instead, I asked in a trembly voice, “So. You’re in construction?”

  What a dweeb, Savanna. Quaking like a helpless female.

  “Don’t do that,” he demanded.

  “Do what?” I asked.

  “This is more than small talk and you know it. You and me.” He was solid, and his jaw was set in stone.

  I brought a shaky hand to my forehead as he swallowed his Adam’s apple down several times. “Come on.” He held his hand out to me, and I took it, wondering why I’d never noticed that there were a million nerve endings in my palm. “You can hold my measuring tape.”

  He measured everything twice while I watched, writing down the dimensions for the flooring as he dictated them to me.

  “Hey,” I said, and his head jerked up and his eyes locked on me with dark intensity, making me shift on my feet. “How come you’re not dirty after work if you’re a construction worker? That’s not small talk. I’m really curious.”

  “More like I’m in the construction business than a construction worker. I don’t pound nails all day. I run things.” He stood up, and I had to back away; his direct gaze unsettled me. “I like to be in charge.”

  He unnerved me, but it wasn’t because I was afraid of him. Every drop of my blood was beating in a scarlet tangle of desire.

  This man would never hurt me.

  I knew it in my bones, and I’d only just met him.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow with the flooring. Be careful until I get back.” He brushed my lower lip with his gigantic knuckle, and bent down for a firm, authoritative kiss that left no doubt in my mind who was boss.

  This was a first, letting a man possess my mouth the first day I met him.

  But why on earth would I want to deny myself something that made me feel so alive?

  He dropped a huge hand to my hip, and asked, “Are you going to show me what’s under this granny sweater of yours someday? Or do you intend to continue driving me mad with curiosity?”

  I sucked my lower lip in between my teeth, trembling at his words and his nearness, wondering what would happen if I unbuttoned my cardy and dropped it to the floor.

  It was a thrill having this gruff, gorgeous man in front of me, watching me curiously, and yet he wasn’t trying to force me to do a thing.

  I marveled at the power I had over him.

  He gave my body a bold, sweeping gaze. “I recognize quality material when I see it, Savanna. You’ve brought me back to life. “

  “You just met me,” I protested, although my spirits pranced at his compliment.

  “Some things don’t take long to figure out,” he replied.

  His palm slid around my hip and cupped my ass, and I slid my hands up his chest, got my fill of his hard pecs. Instead of stopping there like I should, I shoved his T-shirt up to his collarbone so I could stare at his beautiful, golden skin.

  He tilted his head, studying me. “I think we’d better stop there. Otherwise, you might not make it to work on time tomorrow.”

  My heart shrunk, but I knew he was probably right.

  He strode to the back door and said, “The pizza’s for you. You need to put some weight on.”

  With my ass resting against the island counter, I could still feel his large palm prints there and my pussy was wet for him, clenching and releasing as he stared at me from the back entrance.

  �
�Be a good girl. Lock this door behind me.” His voice dropped to an intimate level before he closed the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I raced up the stairs, ripped off my granny sweater and everything underneath it, jumped under the covers, and put my hand between my legs to rub at the insatiable ache he made there until I came over and over again.

  Dante had a strange kind of animal magnetism that drew me to him. I couldn’t wait to tame that tiger.

  4

  Dante

  I stayed up way too late last night thinking of a certain sweet ass as it wriggled under my hand, Savanna’s blossom scent rising to fill my nostrils, teasing me even in my dreams.

  I lost my faith but remained faithful to Lilly.

  Devoted to her memory.

  A big part of me felt like a real jerk fantasizing into the late hours about a hot little bod. Shit, I didn’t even know how hot it was because she draped it in baggy clothes, as if she had something to hide.

  Lack of sleep and blue balls meant I was cranky as a junkyard dog at work the next day.

  “The fuck you are,” I snarled into the phone at my cousin, Carlos. He informed me the syndicate planned a switch to an equity form of reimbursement versus the two-point-five percent commission the organization collected from my construction company for the privilege of doing business.

  Bullshit.

  “Put your balls back in your pocket, Dante. I ran the numbers; you’ll still be making a banging profit, even taking into consideration payoffs to local officials.” Carlos was the mediator between his relatives and the community it did business with.

  I might be his relative, but I wasn’t “in the family.“

  There was radio silence on my end.

  Being pushed around by my relatives pissed me off, and I gave two shits about how ruthlessly they handled dissenters. I’d rather cast my balls in concrete than roll over.

  “Yeah, well... Money talks. You tell my uncle I can do three percent, no more. If that won’t work for him, we need a meeting.”

  “I can’t promise anything. You know how this works.”

  “Yeah, I know how it works. I bring in plenty of ‘legitimate’ cash for the famiglia and don’t appreciate being bent over a barrel for my efforts.”

  Carlos made an affirmative sound. “I get it, but you gotta see dad’s side too. Without the permits, union workers, police security watching your sites—you ain’t got shit for business. It’s a two-way street, Dante.”

  It took work to keep my temper in check, and I still didn’t have it quite under control when I arrived later than I wanted at Piece of Cake.

  Parking my truck in the back lot, I felt my cock coming to life at the thought of seeing her again.

  I hefted two panels of the non-slip flooring, willing my dick down with the efforts of heavy lifting, and rang the back door.

  Two minutes passed, and I rang the buzzer again.

  What the fuck?

  She knew I was coming.

  Maybe she was putting on a special outfit for me. My dick perked up at that thought, and I felt pressure down below.

  God, men are pigs.

  Fucking finally she opened the door, and standing in front of me was a sight my eyes refused to believe. In her right hand, she held a huge kitchen knife, smeared with thick arterial blood, so she hadn’t been slicing tomatoes.

  There were matching splotches of dark burgundy fingerprints stamped up her sleeve, stomach and chest.

  “Savanna?” Speaking slowly and softly, as one would with a half feral animal, I tried to make eye contact. Hers were glassy and stared vacantly off to the side.

  Her baby blues finally snapped up to my face, as if just realizing I was here. “He found me.” She said squeezing her lids shut, her lips and chin trembling.

  I gently guided her indoors, so no one saw her like this, and set the non-slip panels down against the kitchen wall.

  “Show me.” I talked to her like she might break.

  One thing that ran through Drago blood was the ability to read people.

  Quickly.

  As if our lives depended on it.

  This girl beside me who was wrapping her arms around her belly was not a killer. Which meant someone tried to hurt her, and she’d fought back.

  I’d bet my life on it.

  Gently, I reached for the knife in her cold and clammy hand. “It’s okay, you’re safe now. No one’s going to hurt you.” I replaced the knife with my hand.

  This wasn’t the first dead body I’d seen, but it was the bloodiest. His lifeblood pooled in a thick crimson puddle, which coagulated in place across the floor of the workroom, spilling out from a deep gash in his jugular. I leaned over to look and realized she must have hit the carotid artery.

  A puncture to this part of the neck meant sudden and irreversible death.

  My girl had good aim.

  I didn’t know whether to be afraid of her, impressed by her, or both.

  “Baby, I have to make a call. I’m going to take care of this. Do me a favor though; don’t touch anything,” I handed her a kitchen towel, “Wrap this around your hands, and we’ll go to my place where you’ll be safe.”

  It wasn’t the first time life backed me into a corner. Carlos had meticulous cleaning methods, and would take care of this. No questions asked.

  I got my burner phone from the glove box and called him.

  “Carlos, I have a situation here.” My tone was urgent.

  “Tell me, my man.” Old loyalties kicked in.

  Family first.

  Food, family, and fucking.

  The three Fs.

  Carlos had my back, but that didn’t mean he was above pressing his advantage. After I explained what I was dealing with, he said, “I would consider it a personal favor if you were to ask for my help on this, Dante. But you have to ask.”

  “Carlos, I’ve got to get this mess cleaned up, and I need to get her out of here. I’m taking her to my place.”

  “Then it’s done.” Carlos probably thought he was reassuring me, but I felt my mouth go dry when he said, “Leave it to me, Dante. I’ll take care of everything.”

  Exactly what I was afraid of.

  Now I owed him one.

  I grabbed my jacket from the truck. It was big enough to keep every speck of blood on her hidden from watchful eyes. She looked like a little girl standing there in my coat, which dwarfed her.

  I grabbed the boxed carrot cake off the counter. Teresa left it there for me in return for installing the floor. I’d have to make an excuse for not getting the panels done tonight.

  “My place is five minutes from here. We’ll go there and get you cleaned up,” I buckled the seat belt around her. The towel she clutched in her hands trembled, and I noticed her wince when I shut the door for her.

  I said nothing as my truck wound up the mountain road towards my place. After selling the house I’d built for Lilly, I needed a spot which was remote enough so that there were no neighbors, but still close enough to town. My bungalow on the shore of Lake Azul fit the bill.

  It was modest, nothing fancy. But I refinished the original maple floors, so they gleamed and installed new kitchen cabinets and tiling so that everything shone its greeting at us when I opened the door and led her inside.

  Back then, I wasn’t so sure about the bathroom remodel. It was just me, and I didn’t care where I showered so long as the water was warm.

  But as I led Savanna into the vintage-feeling room, designed to feel like an enclosed porch, I tucked my hands under my armpits and felt as tall as the ceiling.

  All the lights were lantern style, the double sinks were antique oak washstands and against the large lake-facing window there was a freestanding porcelain soaking tub which I never used.

  “You’re welcome to take a shower, but it might feel good to soak in the bath. Let’s wash your hands first, shall we?” I led her to the sink and grabbed a washcloth from the cupboard. Her hands were a gruesome sight, and the visual remind
er wasn’t doing her state of mind any favors. It took some scrubbing, and I tried my best to be gentle, but I wanted him off of her.

  Gone.

  The blood clung to the sides of the sink in drippy streaks that looked like tie dye patterns against the white porcelain, and I splashed water to wash the accusatory stain down the drain, “Keep scrubbing. I’m going to fill the tub.”

  She tracked me with her eyes while I poured a generous squirt of shower gel into the bath for bubbles.

  “Why don’t you put your clothes in here?” I pointed to the trash bin under the sink. “I’ll get you something else to wear.”

  Turning towards the door, I stepped away from her and she snatched a handful of my sweatshirt. “Don’t leave!”

  “Easy,” I pet her hair back from her forehead. “I can stay. I’ll stay right here.” I lit two candles and placed them on the window ledge next to the tub. “There you go. Fit for a princess.”

  Her eyes bulged in a way that made me wonder what she was seeing. Just imagining what she had gone through tonight, what led up to it, made me want to hurt someone.

  She started shaking her head, and, rather than waiting, I undressed her.

  The flickering candles gave her skin a soft satin glow, and I suddenly had a craving for scotch.

  Or a cold shower.

  Now was definitely not the right time, but lust burned in my brain so bright I could think of nothing else.

  It was definitely a sin to hide this body behind baggy clothes as she had been doing. Her full figure was made for pleasure, and the spot between her thighs was speaking my name.

  I needed to have her on my tongue.

  There was a cushioned stool next to the tub, and I sat on it. Savanna was in too much shock to even bother covering herself in the tub, and her breasts were ripe, succulent mouthfuls.

  Picking up a washcloth, I traced warm, soapy circles on her back, under her arms, behind her ears. “Let’s wash your hair, baby.”

  I held her neck and dipped her backwards like a child, submerging her thick, blonde tresses in the water, and swallowed hard, noticing the fat tears that fell from her eyes.

  My hands scrubbed, rinsed, and dried the compliant doll she had become.