Risky: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

by Ava Bloom

  “Don’t knights who save damsels usually receive some kind of reward?” he asked, taking a step closer. Instinctively, I stepped back, my spine pressing against the countertop.

  “A reward?” I asked, gulping, trying to ignore the unmistakable heat building in my lower stomach.

  He nodded, his eyes narrowed, fixated on me like a wild animal fixates on their prey. I should have been scared. Lance was so much bigger than me, so much stronger. He could have crushed me between his fingers. But I didn’t feel fear. I felt an aching need to step into his arms and stay there forever. I wanted to kiss him more than I’d ever wanted to kiss anyone before. So, I did.

  I lunged towards him, moving up to my tip toes so I could press my lips against his, and it seemed to surprise us both. But after a few seconds, Lance’s lips went soft against mine and his arms wrapped around my waist.

  I didn’t do one-night stands. It wasn’t my thing. Sadie brought random men home and had a nice rotation of regulars she cycled through, but I enjoyed monogamy and tradition. I didn’t sleep with men until the third date. Lance, apparently, would be my exception. At least, that’s what I decided as he was carrying me down the hallway to my room.

  My legs were wrapped around his waist and he shifted my entire weight into one of his arms while he opened the door to my bedroom and threw me down on the bed, which was unmade and strewn with clothes.

  “Have you been here before?” I asked with a laugh as I kissed his neck. “You sure knew the way to my bedroom.”

  His large hands wrapped around my hips, digging into the soft skin there. Then, his fingers walked down my thigh and pushed the hem of my dress up. “I know how to find my way around.”

  A second later, he proved that by circling around my center, the pad of his thumb unraveling me with slow, gentle movements. I lifted my hips and arched my back, increasing the pressure. It was like a wick had been lit, and with each stroke the flame burned hotter and hotter until I was certain it would burn us both alive.

  He stopped just long enough to pull me into a sitting position and shimmy the skin-tight dress up my body and over my arms. With one snap of his thumb and forefinger, the clasp of my bra came undone and he pulled that off, as well. He leaned back for a moment, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he looked down at me, almost as if he were sizing me up for a fight. Then, he attacked.

  His hand fell between my legs and my body picked right back up where it had left off, the fuse burning shorter and shorter. He kissed a line from my belly button to my collarbone, his free hand alternating from one breast to the other. It felt as if he was somehow everywhere, touching all the right places at the right time. Then, his finger slipped inside of me.

  I groaned, hooking my ankles behind his thighs, clinging to him, desperately trying to bring him closer. I wanted more, and I must have been saying it out loud because Lance pressed a kissed to my earlobe and I felt him smile.

  “Are you sure you can handle more?”

  I answered by reaching down to unzip his jeans and push them around his thighs. My hand found his length and ran from base to tip. His eyes fluttered closed and he licked his lips. It felt good to see him relax. Everything about Lance from the moment I’d met him had been tense. Granted, our circumstances were less than ideal, but he seemed restrained, controlled. I wanted to see what he looked like set loose. So, I stroked him again, circling my hand around him, adjusting the pressure as I went. He nuzzled his face into my neck and hissed.

  “Shit.”

  “Are you sure you can handle it?” I asked, sounding more than a little pleased with myself.

  He popped up and hovered above me, his arms trembling. It was obvious he took my words as I challenge, and as he reached down and slipped my panties to the side, I realized that in this challenge, everyone was a winner.

  He’d felt bigger than average in my hand, but I didn’t realize how big until he was lowering his weight into me, stretching me inch by inch. He pulled out and began again. His eyes were squeezed shut, his breathing deep and ragged. It felt as though time had stopped. Every sound in the room seemed heightened as we waited for our bodies to meet. Finally, our skin was flush together and I felt fuller than I ever had in my life. I wrapped my legs around him and circled my hips, enjoying the sensation of him. Lance must have enjoyed it, too, because his hands clamped down on my waist, pulling me harder onto him.

  Finally, he didn’t seem to be able to take it anymore. He pulled out and slammed back into me. I moaned as our bodies slapped together. The time for gentleness and ease was over. Now, it was time to ravage.

  He pulled me to the edge of the bed and stood on the floor as he thrust into me. I threw my arms back over my head and gave myself over to the sensation. One of his hands drew a line up my midsection and he palmed my breast, rolling his thumb against my nipple until it pebbled under his touch. His other hand found my center, circling my most sensitive area to match up with every thrust.

  It was too much. I wanted the sensation to last forever, but I could feel my pleasure reaching a crescendo inside of me, prepared to rattle the walls of my body and bring everything crashing down. And it did. I swear, my body broke apart piece by piece while he undid me with his length and his touch. My legs quivered and clenched. I reached out and grabbed handfuls of the comforter and random articles of clothing, desperate for anything to hold on to.

  He continued pumping as my orgasm subsided. My limbs felt warm and lazy, practically useless, but I could tell Lance was nowhere close to finished. He leaned forward and kissed my belly button and each of my ribs. He licked a circle around each of my breasts and sucked on my earlobes. He didn’t leave any part of me for granted. Then, his lips met mine and we sunk into a passionate kiss. My body was open to him in every way possible. Even though I barely knew him, I wanted to have him over and over again. He pulled away and pressed his lips to my cheek.

  “Roll over.”

  I listened. Without hesitation, I flipped myself over. Normally, I would have been self-conscious. The hallway light was on and I could see it shining across the bed, our shadows dancing on the headboard. But I couldn’t bring myself to care. I felt sated and amazing, and I wanted Lance to feel the same way.

  He massaged the back of my thighs and then pushed them apart. My feet were almost touching the floor, but not quite as most of my weight was still on the bed. Lance wrapped an arm under my waist, propping me up, and then positioned himself at my opening. I held my breath as he pushed inside of me. This time, there was no easing into it. I was ready for him. When our bodies connected, he let out an animal groan that made my toes curl. The bed shook with each of his thrusts and I reached back and held on to his thighs.

  Part of my brain kept reminding me that Lance was a stranger and I was being reckless, but another part felt free. It felt good to be with a man because I wanted to and for no other reason. So much of my life was structured and thought out and planned to the minute. It felt good to do something, or someone, purely for myself for once.

  Lance’s legs began to shake and then his thrusts became long and slow. When he finished, he crawled into the bed and collapsed, holding out an arm for me to join him. It felt intimate and doubt froze me for a second, but then I realized how much I still wanted to be close to him. So, once again giving myself over to my carnal desires, I pressed my back against his chest and closed my eyes.

  6

  Lance

  I didn’t intend to fall asleep. Well, for starters, I didn’t intend to sleep with Josephine. That had been a move inspired purely by how long it had been since I’d been with a woman. Josephine was sexy and funny and standing right in front of me, interested. How could I say no?

  As soon as my eyes popped open, I knew I’d screwed up. Josephine’s body was warm and curled into mine, the light from the hallway shining in through the door. I peeked through the window behind her bed and noted how dark it had gotten and how little traffic there was on the interstate that ran nearby. It had
to be well after midnight. As quietly as I could, I untangled myself from around Josephine’s body and slid off the other side of the bed. I’d taken my jeans off in the middle of her room, but she had so many of her own clothes spread out around the room that it took me a few minutes to find them. When I did, I grabbed my phone and noticed the missed calls from Graham. I usually sent verification of a hit by two in the morning, and it was almost four.

  Shit.

  I carried my clothes into the hallway and changed so I wouldn’t wake Josephine up. I was half-tempted to make the hit while she was sleeping and run, but we’d had sex. It complicated everything. My DNA was all over her and her apartment. Plus, I’d left my hit bag in the trunk of my car. I didn’t have any of my tools or anything to clean up the scene with. Not to mention, the sex had been amazing. I was spent and exhausted and way too hyped on endorphins to kill someone.

  I’d just have to scrap the original plan. I would be a random one-night stand Josephine had with a nameless, faceless guy, and then in a few days, I’d lure her out of her house and make the hit. That way, it wouldn’t be associated with me and it would look a lot like what would have happened to her tonight had I not stepped in and saved her. Perfect plan.

  I buttoned my pants, shoved my cell phone in my back pocket, and did one last search of the room before deciding I’d grabbed everything that belonged to me and slipped through her front door. I was pulling it shut behind me when the door across the hallway opened.

  “Hello.”

  I jumped and practically screamed, slamming Josephine’s door the rest of the way closed before turning around to find a petite red-haired woman staring at me. She had a skimpy bathrobe pulled tightly around her shoulders.

  “Who are you?” she asked, tilting her head to the side, lips pursed.

  “No one. I’ll be going now.” I smiled and moved to walk down the hallway.

  The woman lunged out and threw an arm across the hallway to block my path. “Are you sneaking out on my bestie?”

  I looked at the girl with new eyes. She was Josephine’s friend in the apartment complex. I knew she had a friend in the building, but I’d never expected to run into her. And more importantly, I’d never expected her to see me. Now, not only was my DNA all over what would have been the scene of the crime, but now there was a witness.

  “You’re a friend of Josephine’s?”

  Her skinny jaw jutted out. “Are you a friend of Josephine’s? Or, are you a sleazeball who is leaving her in the middle of the night and who will never call again? She’s a special woman, you know. You’re walking away from the whole package.”

  “You have the wrong idea,” I said. It was true, this woman did not understand who I was. If she did, she wouldn’t have been standing alone in an empty hallway with me.

  “So, you left a note on the bed? You gave her your number? Does she know you’re leaving?” The woman moved back to her doorway and shook her head. “She probably wouldn’t want your number, anyway. Go on, get out of here.”

  “I was trying to,” I mumbled. My words were met with a nasty glare and a hiss.

  Josephine’s friend was crazy.

  I had to call a cab to get back to my car, but I didn’t want to be picked up outside the apartment complex, so I began walking south, thinking I’d make it to a gas station I’d seen a couple miles away before calling a cab. As I walked, I called Graham. He answered on the second ring.

  “What’s the situation?” he said, sounding like a cheesy CIA agent from a television show.

  “Breathing,” I said, referring to Josephine’s current status.

  “Why didn’t you finish the job?”

  I clenched my jaw and opted for a stripped-down version of the truth. “A few complications arose. I’ve been spotted, and I’ll have to change the plan.”

  “She’ll be taking witness testimonies in the next couple weeks. We don’t have time to waste,” he said.

  “Give me a couple weeks. I’ll sort it out,” I said.

  “You have seven days. I hope these complications don’t involve you going soft. We’ve all seen your target. She’s a pretty face. Just remember what your mama’s face will look like if your debts remain unpaid, capiche?”

  I wanted to tell Graham he could choke, but he’d already hung up and it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I had a commitment to the Petrov family and any sign of disloyalty would be seen as a threat to the family and handled immediately. They’d kill my mom, probably forcing me to watch, and then kill me. The thought alone was enough to sober me. I had to kill her.

  7

  Josephine

  “He is a total jackass, Josephine. Forget about him.” Sadie had bombarded me at the crack of dawn with mimosas heavy on the champagne and stale donuts. She had taken a guy home from the club and was hiding out at my apartment until he left.

  “It was a fling. I don’t care if he was a jerk. It didn’t mean anything,” I said. To be honest, I’d been disappointed to wake up in bed alone. But Lance—if that was his real name—had already given me enough. He saved me from the creep in the alley, drove me home, and gave me the best sex I had probably ever had. Could I really ask for him to also stay in touch? I didn’t think so. However, I didn’t want to explain any of this to Sadie. She didn’t need to know about the attack. I’d told her that Lance and I had met at the club and gone home together, and that was how I wanted it to stay.

  Sadie gave me a doubtful look and reached out to squeeze my shoulder. “When you reach the acceptance phase, I’ll be here for you.”

  I rolled my eyes, but twelve hours later, reality had begun to sink in. Lance had been the first man I’d slept with since Michael, and I would probably never see him again. Doubts began to creep in. Should I have slept with him? Did it make me a slut? In a moment of weakness, I called Sadie.

  “I knew you’d get to this point eventually,” she said, wrapping her arms around my neck before storming into the house. “Everyone feels this way after their first one-night stand. You just have to purge him from your system.”

  “How do I do that?” I asked.

  “Think of everything that was wrong with him,” she said. “Right now, he has all the power. He rocked your world and then dropped you, so you are putting him on a pedestal. We need to kick him down to the dirt where he belongs. So, what sucked about him?”

  For once, Sadie was actually making sense. I’d spent all day thinking about how good his muscular arms felt wrapped around me, hos sexy his tattoos looked, and how warm and woodsy he smelled, even when we were both sweaty after sex. I needed to think of all of his faults. I shifted my gaze to the ceiling, trying to recall everything from the night before. A few minutes later I was still thinking, and Sadie was tapping her fingers on the coffee table.

  “Come on, Josephine. One thing. One fault,” she said.

  “You said you saw him in the hallway? Did he have really bad morning breath? Maybe he kicked a puppy on his way down the hallway?” I suggested, hoping she could think of something.

  She shrugged. “I want to help, but your one-night stand was sexy. Like, superhuman sexy. I was hoping he’d said something sexist or racist that we could use to help you get over him because his appearance was almost too perfect.”

  I hung my head in my hands. “The only thing wrong with him is that he didn’t call me.”

  Just as the words left my mouth, my phone vibrated on the coffee table. Sadie and I looked at one another and then she lunged for the phone. I watched as her eyes scanned the screen and her lips turned upwards into a smile.

  “No way,” she said, shaking her head.

  “What? What is it? Is it him? Sadie, tell me!”

  She held the phone out to me. “Looks like your one-night stand is perfect. And not content to be just a one-night stand.”

  I grabbed the phone and saw a text from an unknown number.

  Hey Josephine, it’s Lance. From last night. I snagged your number from one of your business cards on the coffee t
able. Hope that’s ok. I’d love to see you again.

  * * *

  “What are you going to say?” Sadie asked. “Tell him to come over now so you can bone again.”

  I shoved her shoulder and clutched the phone to my chest. “Should I see him again?”

  Sure, he’d texted about getting together, but he’d snuck out in the middle of the night without saying goodbye. Something about it felt shady, like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to see me again. I didn’t want to put my heart on the line if he was going to change his mind in a day or two.

  Sadie looked at me like I was crazy. “You said it was the best sex of your life. Even if he turns out not to be your eternal soulmate, you should at least sleep with him a few more times. Have your fun. God knows you deserve it.”

  Before I could think myself out of it, I picked up my phone and tapped out a message.

  * * *

  I’d love to get together again. How about dinner tomorrow?

  * * *

  “That’s a good message,” Sadie said, nodding and winking at me. “I love a woman who takes charge.

  “I’m not your type,” I said. But before Sadie could respond with what was sure to be a loud declaration that everyone was her type, my phone vibrated again.

  * * *

  Why not tonight?

  * * *

  “Oh my God. He loves you,” Sadie said. She’d read the message over my shoulder and immediately started shaking my arm. “What are you going to say? Are you going to do it? Come on, do it.”

  “I can’t go on a spontaneous first date. I need time to do my hair and my makeup and pick out the right outfit,” I said, panic beginning to set in.

  “Hello?” Sadie said, pointing to yourself. “I’m a hairdresser and the sheer volume of last-minute booty calls I’ve had to get ready for has more than prepared me for this moment. This is my Olympics, and it’s my time to shine. Well, it’s my time to shine at making you shine.”