Hitman's Promise: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

by Naomi West

  “God, yes,” he answered, his voice a mere gasp in his throat.

  Feeling pretty good about that response, Felice pushed herself to her wobbling feet. Her knees looked like sandpaper; how long had they been pressed against the carpet?

  Pierce looked up at her, shivering a little as the sweat cooled on his beautiful, muscled body. God, he was perfect.

  “So, that thing you did with your mouth?” Felice asked, her smile turning wicked.

  Pierce chuckled. “Yes?”

  “I would like another demonstration, if you have a mind.” Her heart thundered in her chest; she wasn’t quite sure what she’d do if he said no. She couldn’t live another moment without feeling his mouth pressed against her again, even as her body throbbed hard with remembered passion.

  The grin he gave her was equally wicked, sending delighted shivers along every part of her body. “I think my mouth would like that very much.” He got to his feet, picking Felice up and throwing her over his shoulder. “Let’s find a bed, so I can show you some more things I can do that you’ll like.”

  They didn’t make it all the way up the stairs the first time, but after a few hours, they finally managed to find Felice’s bedroom. Neither of them got much sleep that night, much to their mutual delight.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Pierce

  Waking up was difficult. Pierce wanted to hold onto that wonderful, sexy dream where he’d had Felice on her living room floor for a little longer. Once he opened his eyes, the dream would start to fade around the edges and reality would take back over.

  For now, he wanted to remember everything about that dream and not think of anything else.

  But after a long moment of trying to keep the dream in his grasp, he had an odd thought. “The light is wrong.” And it was true; the light from his bedroom in Felice’s home usually came from the other side, assaulting his left side with the too-bright desert sun.

  Conclusion: Pierce wasn’t in his room.

  Chocolate eyes, swollen with sleep and red with lack of it, opened reluctantly. A mix of dread and delight filled his belly as he looked around, realizing that he was sleeping in Felice’s room. “I’m also naked.”

  Fuck. Last night wasn’t a dream.

  The overwhelming desire to stay with Felice hadn’t abated either, and that wasn’t a good thing. Pulling back the piles of sheets, blankets, and pillows, Pierce got out of the bed and glanced around for his clothing. He didn’t really want to walk through the house naked, but it looked like Felice hadn’t left him much choice. He took a deep breath and walked out into the hallway.

  Lucky for him, no one was there. Felice wasn’t even around, which filled him with all sorts of mixed emotions he refused to sort through.

  So he showered, returned to “his” room, and dressed before heading down the stairs. He wanted to see Felice again, see what it is that she thought of their exploits the night before.

  But as he started down the stairs, he heard voices. One was definitely Felice’s and the other was distorted by the speaker phone of Felice’s cell, Pierce couldn’t even properly identify the gender of the person speaking. He shuffled the rest of the way down the stairs, his eyes automatically searching for Felice.

  As usual, he found her in her kitchen, brewing coffee. Sometimes she didn’t even drink whatever she made; Felice simply really seemed to love the scent of coffee. “I should buy her a coffee-scented candle so she stops wasting perfectly good brew.”

  Felice’s glittering, emerald eyes met his, and her mouth shifted into a shy smile as Pierce came into the kitchen. Without a sound, he grabbed a mug from the counter and poured himself some coffee, inhaling the sweet fumes before taking a big, burning sip of it.

  “Yes, Mother, I told you. We’re going to Gala as a couple. It will work; I’m sure of it.”

  “I don’t think you being seen in public, proclaiming that some nobody is your new boyfriend will do anything for your standing in society, Kitten,” said the scratchy, distorted voice from the other side of the phone.

  Felice held her sleek little phone too hard between her fingers, keeping it flat in front of her perfect mouth. There was a kind of tension in her that Pierce only noticed when her mother was around. It radiated out from every inch of her body, the tension making her look like a bow string ready to snap.

  “I mean, he’s very handsome, Felice, but he’s not anybody,” her mother was still talking, and it was starting to make Pierce angry. And not just because she was insulting him.

  “I’m not sure anyone here really cares about your opinion, Mrs. Domiano,” Pierce snapped, his anger lashing out. Felice looked up at him like he’d kicked a puppy, and her mother became silent for a long time. Pierce could literally feel the anger seeping out through the phone.

  As though he had never spoken, Mrs. Domiano continued her conversation with her daughter. “He should come to the Gala as your very sexy bodyguard. You two can dance and have a good time; Clay will be back with you in no time.”

  Felice was still silent, her mouth opened in a horrified expression. Pierce could feel his stomach dropping down into his feet. “Yes, Mother,” she whispered, her voice weak and submissive.

  Frowning, Pierce sat down a little too hard on the kitchen’s barstools grumbling under his breath. He couldn’t be ordered around by people like Mrs. Domiano, but obviously, Felice would.

  Despite telling himself over and over again not to hope, Pierce found himself aching, knowing that Felice still wanted back with her ex. Everything that happened last night was just lust after all, and Pierce was going to have to learn to accept that fact. And quickly.

  # # #

  Felice

  “I don’t suppose you have any better ideas, you muscle-bound asshole.” Her mother didn’t actually seem to be in a foul mood, she seemed to enjoy insulting Pierce. Perhaps she enjoyed riling her “bodyguard” up, or maybe she wanted to see if Felice would get defensive.

  All sorts of emotions boiled under the surface of her, but Felice kept all of them to herself, fighting to keep her face as neutral as Pierce’s. If he could act so cool after their passionate night together last night, then so could she.

  Pierce managed to keep the anger out of his voice, but his mouth gave him away, twisting into an unconscious frown. He was livid, not wanting to make even a single compromise with her mother. Felice was nearly speechless. Dolores Domiano never compromised with anyone. She was a Steel Dom in every sense of the word.

  “We need to go as a couple. Clay is a man that will be distracted easily, and if he latches on to some other pretty girl at the party, you’ll lose him for good. And it would be good riddance in my opinion, too.” Pierce crossed his arms over his chest, keeping close enough to Felice to make sure her mother could hear him over the phone. Felice felt a little awkward standing there, having two people argue over her. Her opinions didn’t seem like they would be welcome, so she kept her mouth shut, feeling utterly alone.

  “Fine then, go as a couple. But you damn well better back away if Clay shows any interest. I won’t have you fucking this up for my daughter, understand?”

  Pierce made a noise under his breath. Not quite an answer, but Dolores took it as an affirmation. “If you try and keep Clay away from Felice, I will throw you out of Felice’s house and life so fast, you won’t even know what hit you.” Without a goodbye or anything, Felice’s mother hung up the phone.

  Pierce didn’t look happy with the outcome of their conversation, but Felice was dumbstruck by it.

  In Felice’s memory, Dolores never bowed to anyone. Not to her kids or any of her three husbands. She never even given in to her own mother, when she was still alive. Felice was pretty sure the day Dolores was born, she crawled out of her mother’s womb and ordered the doctor and the nurses to bring her a martini, and they did it.

  Without a word, Pierce left the kitchen, going to sit down on the couch in front of the TV. He seemed unable to meet her eyes for a second, like he knew all of thi
s deciding things for her upset her. But he seemed unable to keep himself from arguing with her mother.

  “He’s so rebellious. Why can’t he just accept the way things are and move on?” Felice, who had woken up high on happiness wrapped in Pierce’s strong arms was starting to question if that was all just silliness. “Pierce doesn’t belong in my world. And I doubt I would even belong in whatever world he came from.”

  It was so strange all of a sudden. She’d shared a house with this man and once shared a bed, but Felice didn’t know a thing about him. Where did he come from? What were his hobbies? What sort of work did he do before he ended up in her home? What was he running from?

  But the answers to those questions weren’t important; Pierce didn’t belong here. And as soon as Clay was back in Felice’s life, he would disappear, never to return.

  And she had to be okay with that.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Pierce

  “What the hell is this for again?” Pierce frowned down at the assorted collection of silverware around his plate. It looked like someone dumped a silverware drawer in front of him and tried to make some sort of nouveau art project with it. One person didn’t need this many plates, spoons, or forks. One of each was plenty.

  Jennifer laughed at his confusion. “Sit up straight and don’t say ‘hell,’” she said with mock seriousness. “Now, for the fifteenth time, that’s a salad fork. It’s for the salad.”

  Pierce just stared at her, unable to comprehend why the salad needed its own fork. “Why are we doing this again?”

  Jennifer flipped her long, black hair from her eyes. It fell in massive, voluminous waves from the crown of her head well past her shoulders. Pierce had never seen such a full head of hair on anyone, and he wondered how she ever got a brush through it. The edges of her hair glowed with streaks of random colors, like she’d tumbled into a rainbow. Her eyes with the same, glowing green as Felice’s, but Jennifer’s were obviously contacts. Her skin was the deep brown of someone who owed their heritage to somewhere in Central America. She even had a touch of the accent.

  Jennifer was wearing something designer that looked like it is cost more than Pierce’s bike did. She looked perfectly at home in this upscale restaurant. Both she and Felice looked completely relaxed.

  He felt as out of place in this crystal-and-china-infested cafe as a badger in a ballroom. It didn’t matter that they’d dressed him up again in a suit that was worth more than his entire life back home, he still felt like he stood out like a sore thumb. It was unbearable.

  But Felice needed him to do this so he could go to the Gala with her. It was incredibly important to her, so he made an effort to find it important, too. But all these rules seemed intricate and difficult for the sake of being intricate and difficult. None of the rules seemed to have a purpose other than to make Pierce as confused and angry as possible.

  “Whoever came up with this system obviously never had to wash dishes,” Pierce grumbled, waiting for the waiter to bring what the girls had called the “Next Course.” It sounded incredibly ominous to him.

  Both Jennifer and Felice broke down in a fit of giggles, their eyes pricked with tears and glittering with laughter. Felice looked like an angel when she smiled, a goddess when she laughed, but Pierce wasn’t sure he liked her laughing at his expense.

  “It’s simple; for each course they bring out, use the utensil that is furthest from your plate and work your way in. If you’re not sure what to use, watch the people on either side of you. They’ll know which fork or spoon to use.”

  Jennifer nodded. “I think the hardest part is knowing whether to use a spoon or a fork for what food,” she said her eyes trained on her phone’s screen. Never in his life had he ever seen adults so involved in their phones. Well, I guess that’s because most of the people I know can’t afford smartphones. “Like, the soup is easy, but there are some other things that you could eat either with easily. Just watch the people around you; it’ll be fine.”

  “This is ridiculous.” He pulled at the too-tight neck of his dress shirt. Glancing down at his plate, Pierce studied the tiny serving of something completely unrecognizable as food.

  “If you think this is crazy, wait ‘til you see the Gala,” Felice said. She looked happy here, all of the tension melting out of her shoulders the longer she sat here. And Pierce didn’t think it had anything to do with the service or the food.

  Felice needed Jennifer in her life. There was a part of Felice that never completely relaxed until her best friend was around. Jennifer seemed to remind her of everything that was important that wasn’t work, the TV show, or her too-demanding mother.

  “Why?” he asked cautiously. “What is the Gala like?” Not sure he wanted to know the answer, Pierce braced himself for the answer.

  “Crystal glasses, outfits worth a million dollars, and some of the richest snobs in the world,” Jennifer said, snorting delicately.

  “Unimaginable wealth and power, a ballroom-style dance floor made of marble, and crystal chandeliers,” Felice added, seeming to get a rise out of Pierce’s obvious discomfort.

  Jennifer lifted one, gold-tipped hand off of the table, stretching it above her as far as she could. “The ceilings are like miles away from you, and the windows are so tall, you feel like an ant in front of them.”

  Felice nodded, the smile fading from her face. “It’s supposed to be for charity, but most people spend ten times their donation money on their clothes and shoes.” Sighing, she stared at the floor. Pierce could feel that stupid, protective feeling rising up in him, wanting to shield her from all of the things that made her unhappy.

  But in all honesty, he was the one in need of reassurance.

  Spending the last few days with Jennifer and Felice, going to every fancy restaurant within a fifty-mile radius, made him miss his people back home with a sharpness he didn’t expect.

  Although he didn’t miss Gunner, his backstabbing friend from the Club, he did miss many of the others. Those who had stood by him for so long. He wondered if any of them had figured out what had happened, or if they had just assumed Gunner’s story was the truth and dismissed him as guilty.

  “No. I can see some of them, maybe, but I feel like Luther and Kent and Razor would never believe I did such a thing.” Sighing, he wished he could see them again, hear their voices. But there was nothing for it. They would have to get on with their lives without ever knowing what happened to him.

  “Because as soon as Clay crawls back to Felice, I won’t want to be anywhere near this place.” The thought of her in his arms made Pierce furious, but he pushed that feeling down. It was what Felice wanted, so Pierce would abide by it.

  # # #

  Felice

  Felice breathed a heavy sigh of relief the moment she waved goodbye to Jennifer and closed her front door. Silence reigned in her pretty house; Paula must have already come and gone. Smiling, Felice inhaled deeply. There was something wonderful about a clean, quiet house that soothed her soul.

  But right now, she wanted her house to be anything but quiet. She had a few ideas of how she wanted to spend her evening with Pierce, and she was really hoping he was thinking the same thing.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about that amazing night they had spent together, how he had literally fucked her all the way up the stairs to her bedroom. His sex drive seemed to be as insatiable as hers, and she needed that sort of drive again. She needed him again.

  Feeling a little shy, she turned around, coming face to face with Pierce. His wild brown eyes were filled with something she couldn’t read, his teeth holding his bottom lip hostage. OMG, he’s so hot. How on earth did Felice get so damned lucky? Who knew that one day, a literal sex god would just wander into her life right when she needed him most and would make love to her until she passed out?

  “We have the evening free, Pierce. Is there anything in particular you wanted to do?” Felice could feel that wicked smile coming back to her face as her gaze roamed over Pierce’s
perfect body wrapped up in that tailored suit.

  Pierce’s eyes nearly glowed as he took her in, his lips parting as his gaze drank up what would soon be his. His voice was rough with lust as he said, “I should, uh, hang up the suit first.”

  Felice laughed. He had such mundane concerns! “It’s just clothing, Pierce.” She closed the distance between them, her eyes hooded with desire. “But I promise to be gentle when I take it off of you. Deal?”

  She didn’t give him a second to argue; before he could say a thing, she was down on her knees, her lips brushing against his already hardening member through the silk fabric of his pants. He groaned in the back of his throat, his hands coming up to bury themselves in her long blonde hair.