Good Girl: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance)

by Willow Winters

  He rests a forearm by my head and reaches below him to push the head of his cock against my wet pussy lips.

  “Mmm,” I moan, as my head tilts back and his hand grips my hip. Just before he’s able to push into me, the baby monitor goes off.

  Our little girl is quite literally the world’s worst cockblock.

  “Ah, no. No, no, baby girl.” Kane climbs over me, leaving my heat and ignores the giggles coming from my mouth without my consent. His hard dick bobs as he grabs the baby monitor and clicks the top button so the video will come to life. His wedding band clicks against the monitor, and it triggers me to look down at my rings. Almost a year, and I never tire of looking at them. It never ceases to amaze me. I’m so fucking lucky.

  “I’m sorry, babe,” I say with a sarcastic pout. I really do need to be more quiet. The look on his face makes me suppress a laugh. Our little girl shrieks with joy on the monitor. She’s just found her feet and apparently that’s the most exciting thing in the world. Especially when she can fit her little toes into her mouth.

  “You and your big mouth,” he mutters good-naturedly as he stands, and snatches his pajama pants off the floor of the bedroom.

  “Technically it was your mouth,” I say as though it’s an admonishment, with a wide smile on my face.

  He walks over to the bed with a handsome grin and puts his hand on my hip. “Two minutes,” he says before reaching down to give me a kiss. He’s not lying either, he’s a pro at getting our little one back to sleep. She’s daddy’s girl and he has the magic touch to get her to sleep. She looks just like him, too. She has her father’s eyes. We named her after his mother, and my sister. Rebecca Marie. She’s a perfect little angel.

  Everyone says the next one is going to be a demon because she’s so easy. I’m more than happy to find out.

  “Two minutes,” I say just barely above a murmur as his lips leave mine. I open my eyes to see his dark, heated gaze staring back at me with absolute devotion.

  As he turns to leave, to go to our babbling little girl, I grab his wrist and pull him back to me. I crush my lips against his and pour my passion into it. Tears prick my eyes and leak from the corners. I’m so full of love that it hurts. “I love you so much, Kane.”

  He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and leans back. A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest. “I know you do. I love you, too.”

  There’s not an ounce of doubt in those words. He loves me just as much as I love him.

  Thank you for reading Good Girl. I hope you loved reading it as much as I loved writing it.

  More by Willow Winters

  Dirty Dom

  His Hostage

  Coming August 2017

  Bad Girl: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance)

  Chapter 1

  Tonya

  “This is bullshit Harrison and you know it!” I slam the folder down on my desk and push off my chair so fast it spins. I don’t give a shit. I also don’t give one fuck that my skirt is all pushed up and wrinkled from sitting at my desk all day.

  “Is there a problem Officer Kelly?”

  “Oh, now I’m Officer Kelly? But when you kicked me off my case it was, ‘Tonya get back to office.’” I quote him with the same disgust he gave me. I’m fed up with this asshole. He’s a crooked cop and now he’s digging into shit that matters to me. Mother fucker better back off. I don’t care that he has a higher rank; what he’s doing is wrong.

  “Thomas Valetti is a criminal,” he sneers.

  “He didn’t do this and you know it.” I bite back my words to make sure he knows I’m onto him.

  “You don’t know shit. If you knew what I had to deal with from these low lives you’d be chomping at the bit to get him in here and sweating in his seat.” He walks closer to me with a scowl on his face. “He’s one of the big fish in the family. We can get him to talk. I know we can.”

  I speak through clenched teeth, arching my neck to look this prick in his eyes. He might be taller than me, but he’s not going to intimidate me. “You and I both know Petrov had the deal lined up with the Bratva in Kirov.”

  All the wire transfers and cell phone activity points to it. He knows it, I know it. It’s fucking obvious and international relations corroborated our theory. The Valettis put an end to that shit and now they have a target on their backs for it.

  Yet Detective Harrison is ready to pin this entire case on a Valetti.

  “You’ll stick to the script or spend every fucking day sifting through these files, Kelly.”

  “Fuck you,” I sneer as I push past him, “I’m not your god-damned secretary.” I know he could demote me, but I don’t give a fuck.

  Fuck him and this shit department. I’m going to get to the bottom of it. And it starts with getting more information on Thomas Valetti.

  Don’t miss out on Bad Girl. Sign up here so I can tell you when it’s released! http://eepurl.com/b2izzf

  If you haven’t already read Dom’s story, Dirty Dom (Available Now!). Have a little sneak peek:

  Dirty Dom

  A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

  (Valetti Crime Family)

  Winter Willows

  Blurb

  Dominic Valetti is only interested in two things: getting paid and getting laid.

  He’s a bookie for the Valetti crime family, and he knows his sh*t. Dom’s busy doing business, no time to dabble in social niceties. The women that chase after him wanting more than a dirty, hard f*ck are only gonna get their hearts broken.

  That is, until Becca stumbles into his office to pay off her ex’s debt. A hot brunette who’s just as guarded as he is and has a body made for sin… and for him.

  They’re not meant to be together. A woman like her shouldn’t be with a man like him. He’s mobbed up; she’s a good girl who deserves better.

  When they push their boundaries and cave to temptation, they both forget about the danger. And that’s a mistake a man like Dom can’t afford. Will Dirty Dom risk it all to keep Becca safe, or will he live up to his name?

  This is a standalone, full-length mafia romance with a filthy-mouthed, possessive bad boy. Guaranteed HEA.

  Prologue

  Dom

  Becca

  I crack my knuckles and stretch out my arms while looking out over the football stadium from my suite. I fucking love that this is my office. But then again, when you do what I do, your “office” can be anywhere. I snatch my scotch from the bar and tell Johnny to grab our lunch. Taking a seat on the sectional, I grab my phone to look at my schedule. My first drop off should be here soon.

  I’m so fucking nervous. I click my phone on and see I have fifteen minutes to find the bookie’s suite. I grab my purse tighter, holding the Coach Hobo closer to my side. I’ve got 12k in cash under a scarf and the idea that I’m going to be mugged and then killed by the bookie is making my blood rush with adrenaline and anxiety. I can’t believe Rick would put me in this position. Shit. I’m such a bitch. I swallow the lump in my throat and square my shoulders to keep the tears pricking the back of my eyes from surfacing. Now is not the time to think about Rick. And it’s not like he asked me to do this. His problems keep coming after me and I wanted to cover my bases.

  The knock at the door seems hesitant and that makes a deep, rough chuckle rumble in my hard chest. Whoever’s behind it is scared and I live for that fear. They’re right to be scared. I didn’t get where I am today by being kind and understanding. Fuck that. I’m a ruthless prick and I know it. My chest hollows for a fraction of a second, but I shut that shit down ASAP. I’m a tough fucker and I’m not going to let some pussy emotions make me weak. Some days I wish I didn’t have to be such a cruel asshole. I don’t like fucking guys up, breaking their legs and hands or whatever body part they pick – if I let them choose. But they know what they’re signing up for when they do business with me. Damn shame they don’t have a doctorate degree in statistics from Stanford, like me. A devilish grin pulls at my lips. If you’re gonna be making bets with me
, you better be ready to pay up.

  I wipe the cold sweat from my hands and onto my skirt, ball my small fist tighter and knock on the door a little harder. I wonder if the people walking by know why I’m here. I swallow thickly, feeling like a dirty criminal. My eyes dart to an older woman with kind eyes and grey-speckled hair pushing a caterer’s cart. I’m sure she knows. I’m sure everyone who looks at me knows I’m up to no good.

  My eyes glance from left to right as I wait impatiently. Sarah’s waiting outside and I have to pick up my son from soccer practice soon. I lick my lower lip as the nerves creep up. I’ll just pretend this isn’t real. Just hand them the money and walk away. Back to real life. Back to my assistant and move on with my normal, non-threatening, everyday life.

  I take my time getting to the door. No matter how much money they owe me, or how much they’ve won, they need to know that I do everything whenever the fuck I please. If they have to wait, they have to wait. But I sure as shit don’t wait for them. I open the door and my cold, hard heart pumps with hot blood and desire.

  A petite woman in fuck-me pink heels and a grey dress that clings to her curves and ends just above her knees is staring back at me with wide, frightened hazel eyes. Her breasts rise and fall, peeking out of the modest neckline. Her black cardigan is covering up too much of her chest and I barely resist the urge to push it off her shoulders. My eyes travel along her body in obvious appreciation before stopping at her purse. She’s clinging to it like it’s her life line. My jaw ticks, what’s a woman like her doing making bets with a guy like me? Johnny handles most of that shit now. We aren’t supposed to take bets from women. I don’t like it. I’m definitely going to have to ask him about her.

  The door opens and I nervously peek up at the gorgeous man looking down at me through my dark, thick lashes. The lines around his eyes means he’s every bit the man he looks, but his devilish white-toothed grin gives him a boyish charm meant to fool women like me. He’s fucking hot in a black three-piece suit that’s obviously tailored to fit his large chiseled frame perfectly. With that crisp, white button-down shirt and simple black tie you’d think he was a young CEO, but his muscular body, piercing blue eyes and messy brunet hair that’s long enough to grab, makes him a sex god. Lust and power radiate from his broad chest as his eyes travel down my body. He looks like a man who knows how to destroy you.

  A wave of desire shoots through me when my eyes meet his heated stare. My breathing hitches and I swallow down my distress with my treacherous body. I’ll just give him the money Rick owed him and get the fuck out of here. At the reminder of why I’m standing in his doorway, I push my purse towards him.

  I grin at her obvious nervousness and cock a brow, “Purses aren’t my style, doll.” Pulling the door open wider, I step aside, just enough for her to get through. Her soft body gently brushes mine as she walks through the small opening I gave her. The subtle touch sends a throbbing need to my dick and I feel it harden, pushing against my zipper. She hustles a little quicker when I lean closer to her. Her hips sway and I stifle a groan when I see that dress clinging to her lush ass. Fuck, I want that ass. I never mix business with pleasure, but there’s an exception to every rule. Something about her just pulls me in. Something about the way she’s carrying herself. Like she needs me, or I need her. My dick jumps as she turns around to fully face me. Fuck, at least one part of me desperately wants her attention.

  His body touching mine makes every nerve ending in my core ignite; I nervously squeeze the strap of my purse. I just want to get the hell out of here. My stupid heart is longing for comfort. My trembling body is aching with need. What the hell is wrong with me? It’s only been three days; I should have more respect for Rick than this. I will the tears to go away. I just want to be held. But I know better. This man staring back at me, he isn’t a man who will hold me. I take in a gasp of air and turn around to face the man my husband owed money to while digging in my purse to gather the bundles of cash.

  “Is it all there?” I have no fucking clue who she is or what she’s supposed to be giving me. Johnny has the list, but he’s not back yet with our lunch. It’s a rarity that I even have to speak during drops. I just like to watch. And when it comes to people not paying up, it’s best that I’m here.

  “I’m sorry it’s late.” His rough fingers brush mine as I hold out the thick bundle of hundreds. His touch sends a shot of lust to my heated core and I close my eyes, denying the desperate need burning inside me. It would feel so good to let him take me the way a man should. I haven’t been touched in months. I haven’t felt desire in nearly a year, and I know for a fact, I’ve never felt such a strong pull to a man, never wanted to give myself to someone like I do him.

  “What about the interest?” Her eyes widen with fear and her breath stalls as her plump lips part. If it’s late, then she should know to pay that extra 5% per day. Compounded. Johnny should’ve told her all that shit. But judging by her silence and that scared look on her face, she doesn’t have a clue. A grin pulls to my lips, but I stifle it. I want her to think I’m mad. I want her to feel like she owes me. I don’t want her money though. She can pay me in a way I’ve never been paid before. I don’t accept ass as payment, but for her, fuck yeah I’ll take it.

  The man on the phone said not to worry about being late. He said he was sorry for my loss and that he understood. I feel my breath coming up short as a lump grows in my throat. Fuck! What the hell am I going to do? Fucking Rick, leaving me with this shit to deal with. I wish I could just fucking hide as these damn tears start pricking my eyes. My hands start to shake as I realize I’m trapped in the bookie’s suite and I owe him money.

  “Aw, doll. Don’t cry. We can work something out.” Her bottom lip’s trembling and her gorgeous hazel eyes are brimming with tears. I feel like a fucking asshole for taking advantage of the situation. But then again, what the fuck did she expect? First, she made a bet with a bookie – not fucking smart on her part. Then she comes late to hand over the dough. She had to know there’d be consequences. She parts her lips to respond, but she’s too shaken up. My heart clenches looking at her small frame trembling with worry.

  I’ll make it good for her. She looks like a girl I could keep. My brows furrow as I reach out to brush her cheek with my hand. I’m not sure where that thought came from, but the more I think about it, the more I like it. She closes her eyes and leans into my touch as I wipe away the tear trailing down her sun-kissed skin. As I reach her lips, I part them with my thumb.

  I hate the bastard tears that’ve escaped. I feel too raw and vulnerable. I can’t help but to love the warmth of his skin. How long has it been since someone’s touched me with kindness and looked at me with desire? I need this. I need to be held. If only for a little while. His thumb brushes my bottom lip and I instantly part them for him. He can hold me for a moment. I can pretend it’s more. I can pretend he really wants me. I can pretend he loves me.

  Fuck, she’s so damn perfect. Leaning into me like she really wants me. Like she needs me. She radiates sweet innocence, but there’s something more about her, something I can’t quite put my finger on. A sting of loneliness pulses through me. I was playing with the thought of having her on her knees in exchange for payment. But I want more. I want her to fucking love what I do to her. I’ll make her want me when it’s over. A coldness sweeps through me. They always want me after, but it’s for the money, not for me. A sad smirk plays at my lips as she licks my thumb and massages the underside with her hot tongue. Fuck, I’ll take it. If she only wants me for my money, I’ll take it. I feel a burning need to keep her.

  My brows furrow in anger at my thoughts. My fucking heart is turning me into a little bitch. “Strip. Now.” My words come out hard, making her take a hesitant step back as I pull my thumb from her lips. I instantly regret being the fucking asshole I am. But I can’t take it back. I turn my back to her, to lock the door. I slip the gun out from under my belt and easily hide it from her sight to set it down on the table by the doo
r. God knows what she’d think if she got a look at it.

  My body flinches as the hard sound of the door locking echoes through the room. He moves with power and confidence, his gaze like one of a predator. I swallow my pride and slip off my cardigan. I don’t need pride and self-respect right now; I need a man to desire me. The thought and his hungry eyes on me has me peeling off my dress without hesitation. I don’t care if this is a payment or if he’s just using the interest as an excuse to fuck me; I want this. Or at least I want him.

  As I reach behind my back to unhook my bra, he reaches for me, wrapping his strong arms around my body and molding his hard chest to mine. His lips crush against mine and I part them for his hot tongue to taste me. He kisses me with passion and need. His hard dick pushes into my stomach. The feeling makes my pussy heat and clench. Yes. The tears stop, but my chest is still in agony. Make it go away, please. Take my pain away.

  She fucking needs me; I can feel it. And I sure as fuck need her. I don’t even hesitate to unleash my rigid cock from my pants. I rip her skimpy lace panties from her body, easily shredding them and tossing them to the floor. I squeeze her ass in my hands, pulling her body to mine. I slam her against the wall, keeping my lips to hers the entire time. My chest pounds; hot blood pumps through me. I need to be inside her. I line my dick up with her hot entrance, rubbing my head through her slick pussy lips.

  Fuck she wants me just as I want her. I slam in to the hilt. She breaks our kiss to lean her head back, banging it against the wall and screaming out with pleasure as I fuck recklessly into her tight pussy. My right hand roams her body while my left keeps her pinned to the wall. Her arousal leaks from her hot pussy and down to my thighs.