Then he raises his head to sear me with a smirk that is downright evil; swirling his gun upward in what is supposed to be a dramatic motion as he shakes his head from side to side.
“Nope, dude,” he sneers outright. “Can’t say that I have.”
“Didn’t think so. That, after all, would require the brand of heart and mind that only a decent human being could possess.”
My head jerks wild in the direction of Winter, who breaks her silence and seems to come alive as she sears her father’s killer with a biting comeback.
One that I am more than certain will cost her her life.
But Winter follows up her words with actions, elbowing her now distracted assailant as she simultaneously delivers a sharp sidekick straight to his knee.
Gasping in shock, a wide-eyed Nate drops his gun to the ground and doubles over in pain; allowing me just enough time to retrieve my own gun and point it at his other leg.
With an angry growl, I pump two bullets straight into his leg; sending him falling to the ground with a scream of agony as he loosens his hold on Winter’s squirming body.
Immediately she jumps away from him, racing to my side as I welcome her with open arms.
Gracing her with a quick but tight hug of reassurance, I lean over to retrieve Nate’s fallen gun and approach his fallen body with slow, cautious steps; all the while whispering into the ear of the woman who regards her father’s murderer with cold eyes and a condemning glare.
“Tell me right now, Winter. The choice is yours, and yours only,” I tell her. “Do you want me to kill him? Say the word and I will avenge you and your father.”
Winter stops stock still, her face expressionless as she seems to turn this question over in her mind.
I see her eyes come alight as she seems to—just briefly—savor the thought of wreaking her vengeance on the man who changed her life forever.
With slow and purposeful steps she leaves my side to approach the still, injured form of her father’s assassin; looking him straight in the eyes as he returns her gaze, unwavering and even leering.
“Oh go ahead, Babe,” Nate grinds out, even as he winces in agony. “I’m not going back to jail, I’ll die first. So if it would make you feel better, go ahead and kill me.”
I keep my gun trained on Nate as Winter bites her lip; closing her eyes tight as she makes what I suspect is the toughest decision of her life.
Then she opens her eyes, retreating from the body of her sworn enemy as she tells him, “My father never sought the death penalty, Nate. Not even when he prosecuted an evil, unrepentant scumbag such as yourself.” She paused here, raising a finger for emphasis. “Taking a cue from one of the two most remarkable men I’ve ever met in my life, I have decided to spare yours. So you can thank him for your life—a life that, if I have it my way, will be spent in jail.”
Chapter eight
I had the sinking feeling that this would be the worst birthday of my life; but thankfully, though, I am only half right.
After seeing a crying, whining Nate dragged back to prison, Joey and I are told to hang tight and await his trial; also to keep an eye out for ourselves and each other, as his friends might be out for vengeance in his name.
“What a cheery, oh so jolly notion,” I tell Joey. “A perfect way to mark the Christmas holiday.”
Still Joey and I try to make the best of things, remaining together in our winter bound paradise as we invite both Pete and my mother to enjoy the holidays with us.
On Christmas morning, the four of us gather around our sparkling Christmas tree; taking a moment to admire the strands of glittery silver and gold garland, the red and green ornament balls, the tin soldier miniatures, and the angel tree topper that grace its branches. For a long, quiet moment Mom and I clasp hands between us, our teary gazes locking as we think of the very special man who used to decorate our tree.
Leaning forward with a smile of warm empathy, Joey graces me with a comforting kiss while Pete places an affirming hand on my mother’s shoulder. Then we abandon all form of sentimentality and rip headfirst into our gifts; acting much like overexcited kids who have had just a bit too much sugary eggnog.
Joey grins like a kid as he unwraps my gifts of a Biker Bear teddy in boots and a pleather jacket; also gasping outright as I present him with an ivory white motorcycle helmet that I have hand painted with the image of a beautiful, high flying bronze eagle.
Then he watches with wide eyes and an adorable shy smile as I open his only gift to me: a small, sloppily wrapped box just barely tied together with sparkly golden chord.
One, very small gift? I think with a smirk. This had better be good.
Just kidding. Not really.
“Thank you, baby,” I murmur with a smile, unwrapping the gift to reveal a smooth, shimmery black velvet box. “Wow, this is beautiful.”
My breath suspends seconds later, as I pop open the box to reveal a gleaming diamond ring; one that lights up the whole room with its ethereal shine.
“Oh Joey,” I whisper, covering my mouth as my eyes meet his.
Taking the box gentle from my hands, Joey lifts the ring with cautious fingers and reaches for my hand; sighing with what sounds like abject relief as I extend it freely.
“Now Winter, I know that this is quick and very strange—pretty much everything about this situation has been quick and very strange,” he admits, cradling my hand in his as he continues in a soft, reverent voice, “All I know, though, is that you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and I can’t stand the thought of my life without you. Winter McDonald, will you marry me?”
I say nothing for a moment, just choke back some unbidden tears as he poises the ring just above my hand.
“Um, I’m not quite sure how to take that silence,” he releases through gritted teeth, adding with a shrug, “I mean, I wanted to get down on bended knee, but seein’ as to how both of us are sitting on the floor right now….”
“Yes!” I burst out, accenting my words with a vigorous nod. “Yes, Joey! Of course I’ll marry you!”
Tears run down my cheeks as Joey slips the ring over my finger; himself choking up as my mother and Pete look on with quiet smiles.
“I love you,” I tell a beaming Joey. “My protector.”
Forbidden Lust
~Bonus Story~
A Steamy Biker BDSM Mafia Romance
I don’t know how I ended up here and I don’t know how I will get out.
One minute I was having fun with my friends at the bar, enjoying my twenty-third birthday celebration and the next thing I know I’m waking up… with him….
Mikhail Maximoff is sexy, charming, strong, a natural born leader, and the most dangerous man I know besides my father. Growing up the daughter of a mob boss teaches you to be tough and to read anyone before they read you.
I failed to do that with Mikhail. And now I’m his prisoner. I’m not shackled, or chained as you may be thinking. My prison is all emotional. He has given me an ultimatum that I am to live with him in his mansion and be his, to do whatever he wants.
If I don’t comply then my best friend will be murdered. No one knows where I am. And there is no way out. I’m trapped in a hell that I never could have imagined.
But as the days blend into each other I find myself becoming more drawn to Mikhail. He is so strong, so mysterious, so commanding, and controlling. I’m usually the one in that role and this is the first time I’ve been forced to be the submissive.
And I like it.
I don’t know how this happened… but I find myself never wanting to leave this place…
But I feel I am losing myself in the process…
Will I get out before it’s too late?
Does the caged passion have a hold on me?
* * *
CHAPTER 1
“Happy birthday to you!”
The group finished singing the song and everyone quickly raised their shot glasses and downed them in one gulp. Then they proceeded to slam the
shot glasses on the table and let out a whooping cheer.
Tori Rhodes let the whiskey burn down the back of her throat and then slammed her shot glass down with the rest of the group. It was her fourth shot and she could feel a slight buzz starting to creep through her head, but the evening was just beginning. She was a girl who could hold her liquor like a guy, in fact she had won many drinking challenges and drank guys twice her size under the table. Some guys were such wussies.
She was hoping the last shot would go to her head quickly so she could get the memory of her friends singing happy birthday to her, which they all insisted on just because they knew it would embarrass the hell out of her. They were wrong of course. Tori never got embarrassed; she just got annoyed. And nothing was more annoying than that.
It was her twenty-third birthday and she and her friends were at Hank’s Bar, a local favorite hangout where they always went when it was somebody’s birthday, or a Saturday, or a Monday… or really any time they felt like getting ripped. It was a great way to unleash after the boring family dinner she had just suffered through with her father, uncles, and cousins. Tori loved her family, but they could be a bit smothering and her father was completely over protective. It was kind of strange to see how one of the most feared Mafia Bosses in the city turned to jelly if he thought his little girl might be in danger.
It was almost like he didn’t even know her. Tori was a tough girl; she prided herself on it. She had started studying martial arts when she was eight and quickly rose up the ranks and achieved a black belt by the time she was fourteen. It had come in handy to all those people who were stupid enough to mess with Tony Rhodes’ daughter; if they didn’t get the memo about not being nice to the mafia crime boss’s daughter then she would deliver a few well-placed kicks to give them another reason not to mess with her.
By the time she was a junior in high school Tori had earned a reputation as a bit of a hellion who could beat the crap out of anyone who messed with her, including any guys who just wanted to push their luck.
And there had been a few guys here and there, after all Tori was one of the prettiest girls around. Even though she was only five foot three, she was curvy and athletic. She loved to get physical and in addition to her martial arts training, and her gun training, she ran five miles every morning and spent an hour in the weight room. But she did not resemble a body builder in any way. It was funny how so many women were afraid to touch the weights at the gym and then asked her how she stayed so toned, but still lean, and curvy.
She had been told that she looked like a shorter version of Jessica Biel. Tori always took that as a compliment and she had to admit she agreed with it to some extent, except Tori had been blessed with a head of gorgeous, fiery red hair. And a personality to match behind her sexy, hazel eyes.
“Well, girl you got another year in the tank! You are getting closer to the big two five!” Laila, Tori’s best friend said.
“No, I do not fear age; if anything I just get a bit sexier every year!” Tori replied.
Laila gave her a high five and motioned to the waitress to get them another round of shots.
Laila Lewis had been Tori’s best friend since they were in high school. She was tall, athletic, but often too sweet for her own good. She was usually complaining about some guy who would not call her back. Tori suspected they were such good friends because she brought Laila out of her shell a bit and Laila held her back as well. It was a good balancing act between the two of them.
“Well, somebody thinks highly of themselves!” Laila said.
“I think highly of me too!” Tori replied. She was really starting to feel that last shot now.
“I wonder how highly your father would be thinking of you if he knew how much fun you were having right now?”
“I can handle my father,” Tori replied. “We have an understanding; I do what I want and then I don’t tell him any of the things I do.”
Laila and their other friends erupted in laughter. Her father did not approve of alcohol at all—he never touched a drop. Tori found this ironic being that her father owned several bars and also dabbled in the drug trade quite extensively. The only reason he owned bars, laundries, and convenient stores was so that he could launder the money he made from his illegal activities. She had called her father a hypocrite a few times; it had not ended well when she did that though. She was the only person who could piss him off beyond a certain point and live to tell about it.
“So when you go into work tomorrow hung over, your dad is just going to pretend not to notice? Don’t you have to pick up rounds tomorrow?” Laila asked.
“Rounds” as they referred to them were when Tori went around to various community businesses and collected the “protection” fee that they owed her father. Of course they knew and she knew that they were paying to be protected from her father. It was a slimy deal, but it was the family business.
Tori had known about her father’s business since she was about twelve years old. He tried to keep it secret from her but after she found out she was fascinated to learn every asset of the business. Tori did not approve of a lot of the things her father did, especially the violence he often did or had done for business reasons, but she loved her father and this was the family business she had grown up in. She didn’t know if she wanted to do it forever, but she figured if they didn’t do it then another crime family would. That was the way the world worked; her father did not have a monopoly on organized crime. There were a lot of other crime families around.
Of course Laila did not approve.
“Yes, but I’ll be fine,” Tori said.
“I don’t know why you don’t just quit,” Laila replied. “Doesn’t it bother you to force people to give you money for no reason?”
“We’ve talked about this before; you aren’t going to talk me into quitting my family’s business. I know you don’t approve, but you are going to have to deal with it,” Tori said. “Now, come on and let’s take this other shot!”
Laila smiled as the waitress sat the drinks on the table. Everybody counted to three and downed them.
“Whoo!” Tori screamed. She was starting to feel really good.
“I’m going to put some good music on that jukebox,” Rachel said getting up from the table. She staggered a few steps and then continued to make her way across the room with the rest of them laughing.
“I’ll be surprised if she makes it back here,” Tori said.
“I’m not sure I could walk any better right now,” Laila added.
“Whoa! Who is that?” Mary asked.
Tori turned her head just in time to see Mikhail Maximoff walk through the door. She knew who Mikhail Maximoff was. He was the leader of one of the biggest biker gangs in the city—The Hellraisers. They were basically an organized crime outfit who masqueraded as a typical biker gang. But they had their hands into everything from drugs, to theft, racketeering, loan sharking, and gambling. Mikhail himself owned several small gambling places full of slot machines; and of course for those special customers who knew about the card games in the secret basement.
The Hellraisers had been at war with her father’s crime syndicate for a few years now, ever since they had established themselves in the area. She had met Mikhail on a few missions for her father, mostly to try to smooth things over to prevent an all-out war regarding turf. Her father believed that the Hellraisers were less likely to try to kill his pretty, young daughter. Of course little did they know that she was usually armed and could have probably taken a good many of them out if she were so inclined or they wanted to start something.
“That’s Mikhail Maximoff,” Tori said. “He’s the leader of The Hellraisers.”
“Oh, yea. I heard you mention him once before. You did not tell me he was that damn fine!”
Tori smiled. She could not pretend that she had never noticed Mikhail’s attractiveness. He was tall, about six foot three with broad, athletic shoulders and a tight body. He kind of reminded her of John Cena with long,
wavy, blonde hair that you just wanted to run your fingers through. And he was tough. Tori loved tough guys. She was a tough girl and she could only respect a man who was a lot tougher than she was; those guys were hard to find.
But Mikhail was also thick headed, unbending, and unreasonable. He was very intelligent and very driven, just like her and her father. But he just saw things from another angle and he refused to ever compromise even an inch which made doing business with him almost impossible sometimes. Lately communication between their factions had come to a complete stand still and Tori sensed a war about to erupt.
It was probably going to get messy.
Mikhail spotted her and began to approach, moving in his slow, cocky swagger. The man walked like he had titanium between his legs. The entire bar suddenly began to grow silent, until only the click clack of his boots remained on the hard floor.
“Hey, there stranger,” Mikhail said in his deep, bass voice.
Tori rolled her eyes and grunted out a “hey”, trying to ignore him and send the message that she did not want bothered. She had always kind of gotten the impression that Mikhail might have a bit of a crush on her. He liked to tease her and some of it bordered on flirting, but his style was to give her a mild insult in a flirtatious way so she never knew if he was being sincere or not.
“Now, who let you have alcohol? You can’t be old enough to drink; you’re much too small,” Mikhail said.
“Hey, we don’t want any trouble,” Laila said. “It’s her birthday; we are just trying to have some fun.”
“Oh, it’s your birthday? Well, happy birthday. I promise I’ll behave,” Mikhail said with a cocky grin.
“Well, since you promised,” Laila said. Tori almost shot her a glare as if to say “really?” but didn’t. It sounded like Laila was trying to get herself into flirt mode.
“So, did you get anything cool for your birthday?” Mikhail asked sitting down at an empty chair beside Tori.
Collared By The Warrior Page 92
