Punishing Thirst : Mafia Romance (Rough Redemption Book 1)

by Olivia Fox

  Once satisfied his sauce was simmering along, he spun his gigantic body towards us with surprising grace. No one would dare tease my uncle for being a tough guy with a soft side. Besides, they say a hard heart is worse than bloody hands, and I had to agree.

  The Drago name commanded respect, but Lorenzo got it without ever having to say his name out loud.

  I watched as he smeared his white apron red with his hand swipes of homemade tomato sauce, calling to mind the violent deeds that he’d committed . Zio was a man you wanted at your back during good times or bad.

  “Dante, so glad you’re here. What did you bring my kitten?”

  So, for real, part of our family’s deal, ever since his “Kitten” moved in, we were all required to bring a treat for her when we came for family dinner.

  Swear to God, over scotch and cigars in the solarium one night, tears dripped off Zio’s massive jaw while he described the situation he had rescued his girl from.

  Jessica took care of her father for years, working herself to complete exhaustion as his caregiver, only to find out he lied about his diagnosis in order to use her as a free servant. When Lorenzo found out, he insisted she move in immediately and they’d been together ever since.

  “I’ll make it up to her if it’s the last thing I do, Dante. No girl should ever have to go through such a thing. Imagine the years she wasted caring for that thankless, lying bastard. A girl needs pampering, spoiling, not to be worked like a dog who’s never even given a bone.”

  Jessica, aka “Kitten,” loved my uncle with everything in her soul, and when she thought no one could hear her, I’d sometimes hear her whisper his pet name, “Daddy.”

  I wasn’t sure what to think about that, but I knew their affection for one another made the skin on the back of my neck prickle.

  In a good way.

  Did I have such a deep connection with Lilly when she was alive?

  The sick thing was, I couldn’t even remember.

  Parts of my memory from that time were lost, like missing puzzle pieces.

  I hated myself for it.

  Rolling my neck and shoulders as Savanna approached, looking like a lost puppy now, my words came out rapid fire. “Why don’t you go with Jessica and find some eggplants in the solarium? I need two about this big for my parmesan.” With my hands, I showed her the measurements in the air, and she smirked.

  “Sure.” She turned and walked away to find Jessica.

  Her hair was a weakness of mine, lustrous, spun gold, cascading over her shoulders in shiny waves. I wanted to clench my hand in it and yank her back to me. Demand that she address me properly. “Yes, Sir.”

  Obviously, I didn’t go there.

  I didn’t go there when she was so fragile it seemed she might break into a million pieces. Even though she thought she needed sex. Nor would I go there now that she was still recovering from what happened last night.

  She might not know it herself, but Savanna needed time.

  I was a bastard, sure as shit, but I wasn’t a cruel bastard.

  Zio’s dahlia garden was surrounded by a white picket fence, and he swung open the gate for his son, Carlos, who had just arrived, and I followed them in.

  “Ah, my work of heart.” Lorenzo cooed as he stroked one of the rainbow-colored blossoms as big as his head.

  “You can learn a lot about how to treat a woman in the garden, boys, lemme tell you,” Lorenzo said.

  Carlos looked at me, one side of his mouth curved up into a hook. “How’s that, Zio?”

  My uncle got down on his knees, his huge back bent over to see under the dark leaves which he pulled to the side. “See that?”

  I didn’t know what he was talking about, but crouched down next to him, anyway. “What am I looking at?”

  “Mulch.” He grabbed a handful of straw in his hand. “And underneath it, perfect soil.” He raked more of the straw back with his fingers. “Affection for a woman is just like this mulch, don’t go a single season without layering more of it on top. Without it, the ground cracks apart under the harsh glare of the sun; no protection. Mulch keeps the pesky weeds away and feeds the soil.”

  A fat worm worked its way back into the black dirt that Zio had revealed by removing the straw.

  “You know what they say, boys, ‘A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and man cannot live without love.’”

  Carlos raised his eyebrows and said, “I don’t know, Zio. I can’t get enough of the girls who I know are bad for me. Pretty sure that’s lust, not love.”

  Zio turned a faucet on and gave a drooping dahlia a shot of water. “You’re young. You need to get it out of your system.” He turned towards us and his spray of water moved with him, soaking the path, “But some day when you least expect it, you’re going to meet a girl who makes you want to lay back, laugh at the stupidest things, hold each other, and enjoy being together in every menial moment.” He shook a hose-sized finger at us. “That’s when you know.”

  He turned off the water, and we headed back inside.

  Carlos put a hand on my shoulder and whispered, “Dante. That thing, it’s taken care of. No worries. Clean as a whistle.”

  My uncle gave a sharp nod, sensing we were talking business that was none of his business, pushed his shoulders back and turned towards the house. “I’ll see you both back inside. Need to stir my sauce.”

  This was how it worked. Carlos did me a favor, and that favor would be called in, family or not.

  He had me by the balls.

  I stopped short on the front lawn and turned towards my cousin. His hand dropped to his side and his eyebrows furrowed as he gazed at me with focus. A hummingbird buzzed in like a dive bomber, sizing us up. His bird brain actually considered himself a worthy opponent and reminded me of how testosterone was a drug that blinded us to our own vulnerability.

  I knew getting involved with Savanna was a bad idea.

  Life had shown me it could snatch a beloved from you at any moment, unexpectedly, and bam—in a nanosecond, the rough beast of oblivion became your pet.

  I couldn’t go there again.

  If I did, I wouldn’t make it out alive.

  Not in so many words, but that was what I told Carlos. “I haven’t felt like this about a girl in a long time.”

  His eyes glossed over. “Don’t blame you. With an ass like that, who needs porn?”

  A snarl hit the back of my throat before I could stop it.

  Carlos jerked his head back. “Whoa there. Easy. You really do have it bad.”

  He scrubbed his beard with his palm and held his chin high. “If I were you, Dante, I’d call that favor in.”

  “Call it in?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  His grin held a secret, “You know, in exchange for your silence about the…” his voice lowered to a whisper, “… unfortunate event with a knife… she offers her body. Becomes your sex slave.”

  “That’s blackmail.” My toes curled up off the ground. “I’ll be the first to admit my proclivities toward the fairer sex are weird beyond the national average, but I’m still above using coercion to get a woman in my bed.”

  I said it like I meant it, even felt my muscles tightening with conviction.

  Real believable.

  Nearly convincing myself.

  But the very thought of having Savanna under lock and key, beholden to me, made my pulse quicken and my cock swell with fucked up, forbidden longing.

  And right there, right then, I knew—I’d see that longing through.

  7

  Savanna

  Jessica bent over in her sky blue, baby doll dress and gently squeezed the eggplants one at a time. “They need to be plenty firm, with just a little give.” She made a delicate snort. “Like something else I can think of.”

  Bending over, inspecting each leaf, turning them over to examine the underside, nodding now and again as if the vegetables were whispering to her the secrets of life.

  “When I first moved in with Lorenzo, I knew nothi
ng about gardening. But he’s taught me a little at a time—about a lot more than cultivation and fertilizer.” She wagged her eyebrows at me.

  “That’s nice of him,” I said, wanting to ask her to expound. My pulse ramped at the thought of asking her what it was like to be so completely adored.

  Did she ever feel smothered? My fist gently tapped against my lips, and I tugged my ear over the puzzle that was Jessica.

  There was the unabashed way she threw personal questions at me. “So, are you and Dante a thing now?”

  I sputtered on the sip of water I’d just taken from my bottle.

  “No, we uh. We barely met this week and we’re just getting to know each other.” I sucked my cheeks.

  “Huh.” She showed me her palms and shrugged. “He never brings anyone to Saturday dinner, so I figured the two of you must be an item.”

  A flash of Dante wrapping me in his coat and shuttling me to his truck, away from the dead body, came to mind, followed by the feel of him gently washing my hair in his tub.

  Time to get this conversation directed back to her before I said something I regretted. “How did you and Lorenzo meet? He seems very fond of you.”

  She scuffed her clunky leather loafer on the brick floor of the solarium and the tops of her ears turned pink. “I ran into him at the grocery store, literally. I had a bag full of tomatoes and was moving too fast. I turned around and ran right into him so they spilled all over the floor. Like a dope, I burst into tears.”

  “Crying over spilt tomatoes, huh?” I made a lame attempt at a joke since she started sniffing and wiped the rolled-up sleeve of her cotton button-down shirt against her nose.

  “I had a lot going on and you have to admit Lorenzo is a little scary at first glance. It was too much seeing that giant scowling down at me, and I just started sobbing uncontrollably—so embarrassing.”

  I rocked on my feet. “Trust me. I know what it’s like to be so stressed your emotions are right there on the surface.”

  “As soon as the waterworks started, he became a different guy. He insisted on buying me lunch at the diner next to the market.” She took a pair of orange- handled clippers out of the back pocket of her wide- legged jeans and snipped an eggplant, placing it in her basket. “I don’t think we’ve been apart since. You might think I’m a total hussy, but I moved in with him that same day.”

  Well, she had me beat.

  As the afternoon progressed, the Drago family flooded in the door like lemmings. Kitten, rather Jessica, had warned me in the solarium about the younger cousins.

  “Animals,” she said. “Their parents buy them anything they want and let them run wild like savages. Trust me, it shows. It’s almost like they’re proud of their hellions.”

  I was afraid that I too fell into the camp of finding the young boys adorable while they scaled the counter and climbed to the top of the refrigerator. Their war whoops echoed throughout the house from deep down in their bellies.

  The girls were just as unruly. Stefania lay on her back in the living room, pounding her tiny fists on the floor and slamming her heels on the carpet. “Zio said I could have three chocolates, not one!” she shrieked.

  “Zio, you spoil her. She’s going to get cavities if you don’t stop,” Jessica said.

  “Let her, cara mia, she’s only young once. Cavities we can pay for. You can’t buy the happiness I get from spoiling her.” He held out another chocolate and held it above Stefania’s mouth as if she were a begging poodle. She opened her mouth wide and snapped it shut when he placed the treat on her tongue.

  I’d never been around such a noisy, hot-blooded crew and was at first shocked by the banter they exchanged. “Shut up!” One cousin shouted at another. “I look at you sometimes and think, ‘Really? That’s the sperm that won?’”

  It was as colorful as a reality TV show, and I couldn’t look away. When the meal was over, my eyelids felt like they had gained ten pounds and I kept fantasizing about bed, though it was early yet.

  The Drago’s talked over one another, randomly broke out Nessun dorma! while stirring tomato sauce on the stove or washing dishes and waved their arms in grand gestures to express themselves. At a single supper they displayed more life in their little pinkies than most people had in their entire bodies.

  So, this was what it meant to be Italian.

  I liked it.

  By the time tiramisu came to the table, I just wanted to lie down.

  What I liked most of all about the Dragos, was the very male, very sexy hunk across the room who stared at me straight on, a slow smile building as he stroked his own throat.

  As if he wanted to devour me, like tiramisu.

  If that’s what he wanted, I’d definitely let him.

  My cheeks blazed thinking about last night, the soft kiss of his hair on my inner thighs while he put his mouth on me.

  Dante was beside me in an instant, whispering in my ear so close I could feel the heat of his breath. “What are you thinking about, baby?”

  “Nothing,” I muttered, and rubbed at my scratchy eyes.

  “That’s not what it looks like.” He brushed a finger over my cheekbone, resting the back of it on my lower lip. “When we get home, you can tell me all about it.”

  “Home? You mean my studio? I need to get back there.”

  “We’ll talk about that later too.” He stooped to pick up Stefania, whose face was covered in streaks of melted ice cream and chocolate. “Now isn’t the time.” Dante patted his niece’s cheeks and said, “What have you gotten yourself into here, mi amore?” He took her to the kitchen sink, set her on the counter, and gently dabbed her face clean with a wet paper towel.

  My lips turned up, and I gave in, letting my eyelids slide down like garage doors and laid my head on the table.

  Next thing I knew, I was looking out the window of Dante’s truck as we pulled away from Zio’s house. The house lights illuminated the front yard where Stefania was spinning circles, her arms wide open as if to embrace the entire world, head tipped back to take in the universe.

  I closed my eyes on the way home and woke up with Dante sitting next to me on his bed, gazing at me with a softened expression, inhaling deeply through his nose, then exhaling through his mouth, as if coming to an important conclusion.

  “I know it’s too soon, but you do something to me that I can’t explain,” he said.

  I burrowed my face into the soft pillow, and my eyes drifted shut, letting sleep save me from the impossibility of finding the right words with which to answer Dante. Drifting between dreams and the waking world, my mind plunged me into a scene where I told him, “You shouldn’t trust me, not after what I’ve done.” But I spoke the words only inside my head. No one heard them but me.

  I lay there for a long time before I plunged all the way into dreamland, and Dante didn’t go away.

  I didn’t want him to.

  The next morning, I walked into the kitchen wearing Dante’s sweats, no undies, and he asked, “I made strata, you hungry?”

  “It smells good. What’s in it?”

  The rectangle of golden brown with pieces of ham and spinach thrusting out of it like tiny icebergs and made my mouth water.

  “Sourdough bread, cheese and eggs baked together. Plus, a special ingredient.” He slid his hip along the countertop, thrusting his chest out, and my pussy clenched her appreciation.

  I was like a ripe peach, ready for picking around him. More than anything, I wanted him to take a bite.

  “Mmm,” I walked to where he stood, and leaned over to smell the strata. How was it possible that this man was single?

  And why on earth was he so interested in me?

  Dante grabbed the cotton fabric at my hips, and used it to yank me to him, “Hard leaving you alone last night. You look so pretty when you sleep.”

  Tilting my head to the side, I pursed my lips. “Dante, don’t you think we should discuss what’s happening here?” I struggled to find the words. “We don’t even know each oth
er. Difficult as it might be to believe after my behavior the night before last, I’m not one to hop in bed with a man at the drop of a hat.”

  “How big a slice you want?” he asked, his eyes full of heat.

  I rolled my eyes and took the plate from him. “That’s perfect,” I said and grabbed a cup of coffee off the counter, adding a splash of cream.

  Outside, the lake was still, and an enormous group of Aleutian geese grazed at the grass on the shoreline.

  Dante looked at the geese, but his stare was empty.

  “You might as well know, Savanna, my fiancée died three years ago.” His gaze went further out over the lake, to a place I couldn’t see. We sat that way, silent, for what felt like an hour.

  “Since then, I haven’t been interested in any woman, not seriously anyway, until you.” He ran his finger over the rim of his spoon, in a hypnotizing motion so that when he lowered his voice and said, “And trust me. I’m very interested.”

  I startled slightly. “Oh.” Spreading my fingers out in a fan against my upper chest, I slid them up to stroke my throat.

  “When a Drago is fascinated by a woman, he doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. I get that this could be a problem for you given your most recent experience with a whackadoo. I assure you, I’m not a stalker. And you’re going to like what I do to you.”

  My stomach swooped and nipples pebbled under my sweatshirt, and to hide my visceral reaction, I slid my fork into my mouth. “Oh my God. This is amazing.”

  He held me under his gaze, forcing me to pay attention, “My family pledges lifelong loyalty to the people they love. Trust, obedience—those are the glue that holds us together.”

  “I wondered,” I said. An image of Carlos showing up, no questions asked, after a single phone call from Dante came to mind.

  “We adhere to a particular form of justice that other people might not understand.” He brushed a string of melted cheese from my bottom lip with his thumb and ate it. “I don’t think twice about what you did to that lowlife who came to kill you. He got what he deserved, and no one will ever find out.”