Top Dog_A Mafia Romance

by Rye Hart

  But she marked me, too. With that scent I’d committed to memory.

  I helped her sit upright and watched her teeter. I edged her to the corner of the desk before I drew her into my arms. She panted against my chest, my body still shaking from the blinding pleasure her body always shot through mine. My pants were down around my ankles, and her breasts were hanging from the top of her dress, and as her hands slipped down and fell onto my ass, I smiled.

  “You’re always so warm,” Julia said.

  “And you're always so cold. One of the many reasons we’re so good for one another.”

  “I’m scared,” she said.

  I gripped her chin and tilted her gaze up to mine.

  “You have no reason to be,” I said.

  “I know our families are good now. I know we broke all those ties. I know we fired and rehired and tested and retested our methods, but sometimes I’m still scared.”

  “I know. But that’s why you have me. I’ll never let anything happen to you, or Matteo, or our incoming little one.”

  I dropped my hand from her chin and quickly cupped her stomach.

  “Nothing will ever happen to you guys. I swear it,” I said.

  “I can’t believe we did it,” she said. “I can’t believe we saved our family names.”

  “I knew we could,” I said. “We make a good team.”

  “Mr. Russo did call, though. Earlier today. That fundraiser we held for your new charity? The first round of donations amounted to almost fifteen million.”

  “We made fifteen million in that one night?” I asked.

  “Charity balls are the way to draw out people with pocketbooks. I told you that, remember?”

  “I forget who the mastermind is behind all these parties,” I said with a grin.

  Her eyes sparkled, and I bent forward to kiss the tip of her nose.

  “I know you’re worried about our past. About what people still might think of us. But life is strange sometimes. It isn’t always about the past. Sometimes, it’s only about our actions. The people around us? They trust us because of our actions. Because of our intentions from the beginning. That’s what makes all of this succeed. That’s what made us successful in what we wanted to do.”

  “Do you think we’ll have a girl this time?” she asked.

  I placed a kiss on her forehead as my arms wrapped around her back.

  “I think we’ve got guests outside wondering where we went. I placed Frank in control of the grill.”

  “So you’re telling me we should order pizza?”

  “Frank’s not that bad,” I said with a grin.

  “He burned all the hot dogs last time.”

  “But not the steaks. That man’s a steak connoisseur.”

  “Well, if you left him in charge of those—”

  Julia lifted her lips to mine, and I melted into her embrace.

  “Mmm, as much as I would love to, the last thing we need is one of those kids coming and looking for us. I don’t think their parents would approve if they found us like this,” I said.

  “Probably not,” Julia said.

  “But hold that thought for tonight,” I said before I kissed her cheek. “Because I’m not done showing you how excited I am for the rest of our future together.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and I slid my thumb across her delicate skin. I kissed her one last time, drawing her lips to mine before I stepped away from her. I had to put distance between us. If I didn’t, I’d never relinquish her back to the guests. I pulled my pants up as she cleaned herself up in the bathroom connected to my office. And when she emerged, I held out my hand for her.

  “Ready to go eat some food?” I asked.

  “I might as well take it in while I can. Who knows when nausea will hit me,” she said.

  “Well, however this pregnancy affects you, know I’ll be there every step of the way. No matter where life takes us and no matter what happens, I’ll always be here.”

  “I’m the luckiest woman in the world,” she said.

  I tugged her to me and crashed our lips together again.

  “And I hope to keep up that reputation for the rest of our lives,” I said.

  Then I opened the door, planted my hand on the small of her back, and ushered her back out to our guests.

  We walked out the back door and Matteo went diving into Julia’s arms. I watched her pick our son up and swing him around before planting kisses on every part of his face. I took back the grill from Frank and started doling out food, my eyes keeping tabs on my family as Julia talked with Matteo. I watched his eyes drop to her stomach as his jaw unhinged, and I grinned. The look of sheer excitement on his face settled any nerves I still had from Julia’s announcement. Matteo hugged his mother closely as she whispered into his ear. I slid steaks and hamburgers on people’s plates, watching as they walked by the table of condiments and sides they would use to fill their stomachs.

  I meant what I said.

  Julia never had to worry as long as I was by her side.

  Our past was something we couldn't change. How we were raised and who we were raised by would never change. But what we did with our family businesses going forward was completely within our control. What we chose to donate to and what we chose to take on a business ventures would prove to people time and time again that the names Bianchi and Martine didn’t have to be feared any longer. My son looked over at me with bright eyes and waved, so I took the time to wave back. His smile made my heart skip a beat, and in nine months I’d be holding my newborn child in my arms.

  Boy or girl, our child would be loved. Supported. Cherished. Spoiled. There would never be a day where they knew fear, or blood, or vengeance. Those days were gone. Julia and I made sure of it. And every once in a while, when fear crept into my thoughts at three in the morning, I would check on things to make sure they stayed okay. Without competition between the two families, New York was safe.

  My family was safe.

  Our little slice of the world was safe.

  “Daddy!”

  I scooped a running Matteo into my arms and helped him crawl onto my back.

  “What’s up, son?” I asked.

  “Mommy told me.”

  “She did, did she? And how do you feel about what she told you?”

  “I’m gonna like my new room,” he said.

  “Oh! A new room, huh? You think you’re gonna move out and get yourself some nicer digs?”

  “That’s what Mom said.”

  “Well, what else did Mom say?”

  “That you’d help me decorate it,” he said.

  My gaze panned over to Julia. I watched a cheeky grin spread across her cheeks.

  “Well,” I said as I looked back at my son, “if I’m going to help you decorate, then we’re going to decorate it any way you want.”

  “Any way?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  “So I can have glow-in-the-dark walls?”

  “Why not?” I asked as I waved at Julia.

  “And a really big bed?”

  “We’ll get you a new one,” I said as she waved back.

  “And my own TV? With my own video games? And my own movies?”

  Julia giggled, but she had no idea what she was getting herself into. She’d picked a fight with the wrong man because I always won the battles that came my way. Just like I’d won against Stefano.

  “Whatever you want,” I said as my eyes locked with my son again. “But don’t tell your mother. We need to surprise her with it.”

  “Okay,” Matteo said whispering. “It’ll be a secret.”

  And I couldn't wait to see the look of utter shock on her face once we were done decorating.

  The End

  ROCK HARD NEIGHBOR

  PROLOGUE

  His eyes were hungry, and I knew exactly what they were craving.

  He picked me up gently, and I sighed into his neck. He turned his lips to my skin, and I could’ve sworn I felt their warmth. My skin puckered and th
e hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I pulled back to take in his eyes once more, giving myself one last chance to revel in their beauty.

  Then, without a word, he kissed me.

  It was hesitant at first. Light and non-committal. His lips were pillow soft, and his beard tickled my cheeks. His hands slid down my back before they cupped my ass, and immediately I found my nipples tightening to sharp peaks. His tongue swiped lightly at my lips, asking for entrance.

  I fisted his shirt and pulled him even closer, and it unleashed the madman inside.

  Picking me up off the floor, he settled me on the counter. Its rickety form creaked underneath my body weight, but he held me steady and close to him. His kisses trickled down my neck, sending shivers up my spine as his mouth cupped my clothed breasts.

  My hands were twirling into the tresses of his hair as he traveled down my body.

  His hands were everywhere. Cupping my tits and running down my side. They made quick work of my pants, pulling the heated material from my body. The cool mountain air streaming in from the open kitchen window hit my soft molds, causing me to shiver as his eyes looked down upon me.

  They were hungry, and I knew exactly what they were craving.

  He grabbed a chair from the other side of the island and sat down. His hands pressed my legs open, folding them back up to me as he eyed my dripping folds. I was exposed to him, shivering on top of the creaking countertop as I looked down at him.

  His eyes hooked on mine one last time before his lips descended to my folds.

  He kissed them repeatedly, making me jump and whimper. His beard tickled the insides of my thighs as I slowly wrapped my legs around his head. My fingers ran through his hair as his tongue pierced my folds, sliding right into my entrance. I arched into him as my nails raked across his scalp, and his hands wrapped around my thighs so he could pull me closer to him.

  His tongue felt like fire as he teased electricity up and down my legs. His tongue licked thick stripes up my slit, then swallowed down my juices as he hummed into me. His voice rattled my ribcage, and his hands held me down, pinning my movements to the countertop as his tongue worked my clit.

  I could feel myself dripping. I could feel my legs trembling against his back. His lips wrapped around my clit and pulled it into his mouth, his tongue flicking at lightning speed. I was breathless and at his mercy as my eyes watered with want. I gripped onto his hair as I tried to buck into him, wanting to chase my high on the tip of his tongue.

  But his hands held me down as he teased me generously, turning me into a moaning mess.

  “Please. Oh, please. I can’t. I can’t wait. You’re driving me crazy.”

  I felt him smile into me as my back arched again. I wanted to be so close to him. I wanted to come at the ministrations of his tongue. If he would let me come, I could give him what he wanted. If he could release me, my name would tumble from his lips.

  If he could just send me over the edge, I would give him something in return.

  Finally, his hands gave way. They slid down my thighs and parted my knees once again. I rocked into him as much as I could as he pinned my knees toward my chest. His entire body was hovering over me as his eyes hooked onto my face. I could feel sweat gathering at the nape of my neck. I could feel my body flushing with orgasmic delight. His tongue flattened out over my clit as juices dripped down my crack.

  I was so close I could taste it.

  CHAPTER 1

  AMANDA

  Shit!

  Get it together Amanda.

  It was a cold winter day in New York and I stood barefoot on the distressed hardwood floors of my apartment. My hands trembled as I held the crisp white letter addressed to me. It was from my grandmother’s estate attorney.

  My grandmother passed away from a long battle with pneumonia and left me her home. Months had passed since her funeral, and I was still dealing with the loss of the one person I’d loved most in the world. I referred to her as my sweet Gigi. While she relentlessly encouraged me to follow my dreams, I still felt guilty for moving hundreds of miles away for art school and the pursuit of an art career.

  No amount of accomplishments compared to her unconditional love, or her famous Sunday morning buttery biscuits. God, those biscuits were pure heaven. Gigi must have packed them with crack or something wicked - they were that good.

  The thought of owning the house I’d grown up in overwhelmed me with nostalgia and a longing to get back to the place I called home – beautiful North Carolina.

  Maybe everything did happen for a reason.

  Maybe my life had hit rock bottom because there was something better waiting for me. Could it be that Gigi wanted me to return to my roots?

  Perhaps I was supposed to have a horrible relationship with the man I once called the one – so I could take a step back and grow into my own skin.

  Or, maybe I was bat shit crazy!

  There was only one way to find out – and I was convinced that North Carolina was that way. I had to at least give it go. I owed Gigi that much.

  When my parents split, my mother relied heavily on her to help care for me. My father cheated on my mother multiple times, and then she fell into drugs and alcohol to cope with her troubles. To say that part of my childhood was a complete shit show would have been an understatement.

  Gigi was my rock, my support, and my sole source of encouragement my entire teenage life. She even supported me through art school in New York City. She fought for my dreams, harder than anyone ever had. She was my guardian angel.

  I missed her so damn much it hurt. Now, I knew she was watching over me from a distance.

  I just prayed I wouldn’t let her down.

  ***

  So, you’re just going to leave without a word?

  Groaning at the text message from my ex, Daryl, I tossed my phone onto the airplane tray in front of me. I was on my flight to North Carolina, and he wouldn’t stop messaging me. Leave without a word? I broke up with him over a month ago.

  Daryl was demeaning and cynical throughout our entire relationship – except of course the honey-moon period that lasted for just a few months after we met. He assumed he knew everything there was to know about the art world. He constantly told me to find something practical to do with my art degree; like teach or give lessons. Not once believing I could showcase my artwork in galleries – even though I proved him wrong a few times.

  Struggling as an artist from the ground up took a great deal of work and mustering of courage and fighting my own self-doubts. Coupling all that with my Daryl’s insults made things a million times worse.

  He didn’t believe in me. And I’d put up with his shit for way too long. After the break up, the man had the balls to accuse me of everything from cheating to using him for his money. He claimed my art was more important to me than him, and I had half a mind to tell him he was right.

  My art never judged me or mocked me.

  It never told me I wasn’t good enough. It didn’t make fun of me whenever I wore the wrong type of dress to a cocktail party, and it sure as hell never told me my dreams were invalid.

  Of course my art was more important than him. Because Daryl was a dick.

  When are you coming back?

  What part of breaking up did he not understand? He was out of his mind if he thought I was going to come back. Not after all the fights and all the digs and jabs I endured just to try and see the good in him. I gave him everything, until I had nothing more to give.

  After everything I gave you, the least you could do is answer me.

  I picked up my phone and opened the messenger. I poised my fingers to fly across the screen as my vision began to turn red. I crafted response after response of hurtful accusations in my head, debating on which one to send him that would shut him up for good.

  But I knew that wasn’t the answer. I didn’t want to bring more pain into an already fucked up situation. The plain fact was we weren’t right for each other. I was going to take the high road now a
nd cut my losses.

  Settling on a message for my ex, my fingers worked. I kept it short and sweet, telling him that we both needed to accept the reality of the situation. We had our chance, and now it was time for us to go our separate ways and that I wished him the best. No grudges. No hard feelings.

  Then I sent the message and turned off my phone so I could enjoy the rest of the flight. I needed time to think.

  While I had some success with my art in New York, I hadn’t reached the potential I knew I had inside of me. I was told my work wasn’t modern enough or sharp enough for the audience that the city attracted. Some galleries suggested that I should try going to the Midwest or even down south.

  What the hell did that even mean?

  My grandmother’s death chipped away at my soul, but it dropped the one thing I needed in my lap more than anything else. Whenever I was at her cabin, I always felt safe, blanketed from a harsh world that could swallow me whole. I’d fought my entire life to keep two feet on the ground instead of allowing myself to become a victim.

  When my grandmother’s lawyer sent me the letter notifying me the house was mine, it couldn’t have been better timing. Gigi always had a way of saying and doing things that were necessary at the moment they were needed most. I had no idea the adventure I was setting myself on by moving going back to North Carolina, but part of me understood I had no choice. I was excited about this new chapter ahead.

  With that said, I was also scared shitless.

  The plane landed at Asheville Regional, and I had just enough money to pick up a rental car. It was a compact car and would struggle over the mountainous terrain of my home town, but it was all I could afford. I shoved my suitcases into the car, stuffing it to the brim, then reached for my phone to turn it back on. Besides the bombardment of text messages from my ex, I saw I also had a few missed calls from my best friend. I smiled and dialed the phone.

  “Hello beautiful.”

  “Manda! Thank the earth. Have you landed?”

  “Yep. Getting into my rental car now and heading to the cabin.”

  “How was the flight?” she asked.