Shared: A Dark MFM Menage Romance

by Lauren Landish

  “I appreciate you two doing this for me,” Vittoro says with his elbows on his desk and his hands steepled. The tips of his fingers tap against one another as his eyes travel from Damon’s to mine. I clear my throat and lean forward, giving him my full attention.

  “We’re honored, sir,” Damon says.

  “We are,” I agree. I think it’s only the second time I’ve spoken since coming in here. I prefer it that way.

  Vittoro’s dark suit looks a bit too big, like the old man’s recently lost weight. I imagine it’s from the stress of the war heating up. He has a lot to protect, and a lot to lose. All men of power do.

  I’m not interested in being a Don, never have been. I don’t want the responsibility, and I don’t need the burden of being in charge. I'm happy being a soldier. It’s enough to get the pent up tension and anger out; that’s all I need.

  He clears his throat, readjusting to lean in and says, “You can’t trust anybody anymore.”

  The hair on my arm stands to attention as his finger taps on the desk.

  I nod my head. He’s right about that. There’s loyalty within the familia, but it only goes so far.

  Casualties have been suffered on both sides, and that alone has led to acts of desperation. The shaky trust between the families is gone, replaced with betrayals. Neither familia is taking credit for the deaths. Both bosses have their fingers on the trigger, itching to pull. The tension is getting thick, and now is the time to strike.

  Instead of using the two of us to take out the Condottis, Vittoro is having us hide away. I don’t get it; I don’t understand it. But all I’ve ever done is take orders from the men who hire us. That, and accept their money.

  “Of course,” Damon says. He smiles, charming and inviting. He’s charismatic, answering the boss of the familia as if he’s an old friend. “But you can absolutely trust us.”

  Vittoro nods his head vigorously. Although the suit is a bit bigger on him now than it used to be, the fat of his jaw is still there.

  The door opens behind us, interrupting the meeting; the soft creak makes me turn my head and at the same time, my hand travels to my belt. My gun’s not there, but it’s an ingrained habit.

  When I see her stride through the door, my hand freezes.

  I notice the curve of her waist first. My eyes are drawn to her wide hips. Her body was made to take a punishing fuck.

  My gaze slowly travels up her gorgeous body. When I see those dark eyes and long dark hair, the breath stills in my lungs.

  Bianca Russo.

  Her heels click as she walks across the dark wooden floor, but the rhythmic sound is dimmed by the rug as she steps across the office and closer to her uncle’s desk.

  I didn’t know it was her.

  I feel rising anger in my chest, and I can’t explain it. I didn’t even know she was in town. As far as I knew she was far away from here; I didn’t know she was in danger. It makes me feel anxious.

  I haven’t seen those tempting curves in years. But they call to me just the same. Her long legs are exposed by the short dress she’s wearing. Her soft scent travels to me, filling my lungs. She smells like honeysuckle.

  I know she can feel my eyes on her, but she doesn’t look my way.

  My heart beats faster and faster, each thud seeming to get louder. I can’t explain it. We never had a thing together. She was always off limits and out of my league. But seeing her now and knowing that she’s in need of protection changes something in me.

  My attention is split between Bianca’s reaction and what her uncle is saying. She seems pissed off, but there’s more to it than that. She’s frightened and afraid, which makes me think something happened to her. Either that, or she knows too much. It’s more than obvious she’s not alright with this. She doesn’t have a fucking choice though. Vittoro is right to hire us to protect her. I’ll make damn sure we keep her safe.

  “You two will keep her in a holding place status in our safe house.” Vittoro’s dark eyes stare back with the command, but there’s something else behind his cold and calculated gaze... fear. He’s scared for her. I get the feeling he’s not telling us everything, but I keep my mouth shut, giving a slight nod. We’ll keep her wherever we’re going until we hear differently. I wish we were going to the cabin, but the Russo’s safe house will have to do. I take a glance at Bianca. She’s ours until the danger is gone.

  Bianca stares at the floor, her hands clasped in front of her as she stares at the worn Persian rug beneath our feet. I shift in my seat, wanting her to lift her gaze. I need her to look at me. But she doesn’t.

  “I don’t think-” Bianca starts to say something, her eyes still on the floor, but her uncle cuts her off.

  “Go pack your bags.” Vittoro’s short with her. My eyes drift between the two of them.

  “I came in here-”

  “Now,” he demands before finding his composure and lowering his voice as he continues, “We already had this discussion.” Bianca’s eyes seem to glaze over for a moment as she stares at her uncle. I don’t like the way he’s talking to her, not one fucking bit. My fingers grip the armrest tightly and keep me in place.

  She licks her lips once before narrowing her eyes and meeting her uncle’s gaze. Vittoro stares back at her, daring her to push. But she doesn’t. Instead she backs down and I can see the fight in her is still there, just beneath the surface.

  I finally catch her eyes as she turns her back on her uncle, the hem of her loose cream dress flowing around her thighs as she walks away from us. But it’s not a look I ever want to see again from her. She’s wounded, and the sound of her heels is quicker this time as she leaves us, shutting the door and failing to tell her uncle whatever was on her mind.

  “I need you two to keep her at our safe house. I’ll give you the address, for your eyes only. I don’t want anyone getting close to her. I’ll personally let you know if I’m sending anyone there. Otherwise, think of them as the enemy.” His breathing comes in a little heavier before he sags back into his seat. “Do I make myself clear?” he asks. I exchange a quick glance with Damon, and we both nod simultaneously. “Don’t fuck this up,” Vittoro says, staring me straight in the eyes. I feel a chill touch my spine. His dark eyes seem to hold a warning.

  I answer him easily, although I’m on edge. “Got it, boss.”

  Chapter 4

  Damon

  This assignment can turn out to be one of the easiest we’ve ever had.

  Or the hardest.

  Bianca Russo is fucking gorgeous. I can’t help but appreciate every single one of her tempting features as she says goodbye to her uncle inside the glass doors of the Russo property. I wish I’d known it was her so I would’ve been prepared. I lean back in the driver’s seat of the car, just waiting for her to come to us since the luggage is already loaded.

  She’s all ours now.

  I can't stop admiring her. All that wavy dark hair I could so easily wrap around my wrist and pull back as I fuck her from behind. Those shapely lines curving down her body under her silk dress from her perky breasts, to that tiny waist. Her hips sway with the slightest movement she makes, and can capture and grip any man’s attention. Her legs go on for days, and the fuck-me stilettos she's wearing only serve to emphasize her sexy thick thighs.

  She’s exactly our type.

  And that may be a problem.

  I shift in my seat, ignoring my hard-on as Maddox clears his throat from the passenger seat of the Cadillac Escalade that Vittoro lent us for this assignment. It’s got tracking on it, guaranteed. But I know how to fix that, and as soon as we get to this place, I'm shutting the tracking down.

  “I know we’re supposed to watch her, but you might want to keep your fucking tongue in your mouth and your hands to yourself. At least while Vittoro is still around.” Maddox’s voice is low as he stares out of the windshield, avoiding looking at her altogether.

  I take one more glance at her, and this time I don’t see a woman in need of a good fuck. Instead
I see the mafia princess, and the way she’s talking to her uncle makes it clear she’s already unhappy, and he’s already pissed.

  He’s right. We’re supposed to keep her safe, not eye-fuck her. Or worse.

  “I’ll do my best, but don’t kid yourself,” I utter. “You’re the one who needs the reminder.”

  Maddox turns to look at me, his eyes narrowing and his voice carrying a tinge of a dare. “Yeah? And why is that?”

  “Two reasons. First, Bianca Russo was probably the cause of your first fucking teenage wet dream back in the day.” His eyes dart past me to her, but I keep at it. “You think I forgot how you used to get all worked up for her when we were kids?”

  Maddox absently runs his hand over his rough stubble and turns to face forward. “That was a long time ago.” Bullshit. I stare at him for a minute, but I’m not going to push.

  “If you say so.” I turn up the radio and ignore the feeling in the pit of my stomach telling me this is going to end up fucked.

  “Why else?” he asks, turning the knob to the radio all the way back down again.

  “You know why,” I tell him.

  “What the fuck are you saying?” he says with a threat in his voice and a crease in his forehead.

  “You want me to spell it out?” I look him dead in the eyes. I twist my hands on the steering wheel, debating on just dropping it, but he answers me with a nod of his head. “How are you managing with the anniversary coming up?” I ask him quietly.

  One look at the mean, irritated grimace on Maddox’s face, and I know he hates the fact that I brought it up. A wave of guilt washes through me, but it needed to be said.

  “Just drop it. I’m handling my shit.”

  “Maybe you are right now, but the closer we get to the day your old man died, the worse you’ll get. And this wouldn’t be the first time you handled it by getting your cock wet. And that can’t fucking happen.”

  “That’s not gonna happen,” he insists.

  I know how hard this is for him. I fucking hurt for him. He went through an even worse childhood than I did. Sometimes having no family would be better than the one that brought you into this world.

  I run my hands through my hair, remembering the first year after his father’s death. He stood there in my backyard begging me to beat the shit out of him. I turn to look back at the property, and both Bianca and Vittoro are gone. I have no fucking clue where they went.

  Instead of seeing the well-maintained gardens and trees that line the drive, I see the dirt backyard I grew up with. I remember Maddox screaming at me to just hit him. To make him feel the pain of what his dad did to him all over again. To remind him why he felt the need to fight back all those years ago.

  And I did. I’d do it again if he ever asked me to, but he doesn’t ask anymore.

  “I already know she’s off limits,” Maddox says, bringing my attention back to the present. “I’m not going to fuck this up.” I grunt a noncommittal response, although I don’t know if I believe him.

  Fuck, he may be going through some shit, but I’m not, and already I want her. Forbidden fruit is the sweetest, isn’t it? I turn back to the mansion as Bianca walks out. She carries herself with an air of respect and confidence, although her dark eyes reflect nothing but sadness.

  I’m quick to open my door and get out so I can open hers as she walks toward our car. That sweet smile on her face is forced I think, but the soft “thank you,” she murmurs is genuine.

  As she climbs in, I try not to look at her at all, and instead I stare at the paved driveway. Vittoro is standing right there, watching me like a hawk. A cold sweat breaks out along my skin thinking about fucking this up. Bianca’s in need of a comforting touch, I can feel it with everything in me. And I sure as fuck want to give it to her.

  Giving Vittoro a nod and remaining as professional as I can, I close the door.

  As I pull the seatbelt over my chest, I glance in the rearview mirror and time slows down to a meandering crawl. Her eyes lock with mine and a gorgeous pink hue creeps up her neck and onto her cheeks.

  I’m instantly reminded of the day I laid eyes on her for the very first time.

  I’ll never forget that one particular snapshot of my junior year. I was trying to make my way through the cafeteria, ignoring everyone else and heading to my seat. My only enjoyment in high school came from sitting at the table that Maddox staked a claim on. No one ever fucked with him really. Maybe a time or two someone thought they were bigger and badder, but just looking at him was enough to make anyone sane back the fuck off. He was built to brawl.

  We're nearly even in height and muscle now, but when we joined the military I was one of the only people to put on weight in boot camp. Having food on a daily basis was something I hadn't realized I needed so much. I was scrawny and malnourished. At first, I was too proud to take the food Maddox offered. I learned to trust him over time, and he never stopped sharing. But before then, before I had the muscle and weight, I had to prove that I wasn’t someone who was so easily pushed around. Some dumb fucks were slow learners, and I had to beat their asses more than once.

  As usual, I wasn't eating lunch. Either a packed lunch or buying lunch at school would have cost money I didn't have. Feeling hungry as fuck was normal for me when I was growing up.

  Then I saw her.

  And I went from hungry to voracious.

  I caught a glimpse of her, and I couldn’t shift my gaze away from the curves she had even then. After she made her way up the long locker-lined hallway that led to the cafeteria, she stood stiffly in the doorway, hesitating behind a few other girls. To me, it was as though they weren't even there. My eyes honed in on the new girl, and that was it. I couldn't look away.

  The dark-haired beauty seemed so shy, so lost and out of place. Her face was flushed. She was doing her best not to appear nervous or show her reaction to feeling out of place, but it was obvious. Everyone in there might have been staring at her, but from where I was sitting, she was blushing only for me, and her eyes were locked with mine and mine alone. She may have been lost, but as far as I was concerned, that stunning creature had found me.

  And my dick agreed.

  I was riveted, glued to my seat, blazing hot with an intense lust that ruled all my senses, and I didn't even know who she was. Not that I would have made any attempt to get out of my chair at that moment, given the bulge straining against my pants and refusing to go down.

  Brushing a few stray strands from her cheek, she unfroze from her spot and joined the food line. As I watched her, a heavy hand crashed down on my shoulder.

  "What?" I grunted, hoping the person who dared to distract me would crawl back under a fucking rock or get lost.

  "You gonna look at her all day?" Maddox asked close to my ear as he set his tray next to me on the table.

  I shoved his hand off and resumed my laser stare. "Who is she?"

  "Not yours." Maddox huffed a small laugh that made anger rise inside of me. Nothing was ever mine. I didn’t have a damn thing to my name, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t have her.

  "What's her name?" I asked again.

  "Bianca."

  "How is it you know about her and I don't?" I finally turned to look at him, waiting for an answer.

  "I make it my business to know girls like that."

  I looked on as she carried her tray to the table where all the Russos sat, and my blood turned cold. They didn't send her packing, but they didn't welcome her with their usual warmth for the regulars either. I took that to mean they knew her from their family circles, but weren't exactly friends. She didn’t choose a seat right away, awkwardly wandering around the table to the only spot that faced our table.

  Our eyes locked for a second time. She started to smile, but before her lips could form fully, her face flushed to a deeper shade of red and she looked away.

  "She may be looking at you now, but make no mistake... if she ever chooses to go slumming, it'll be with me."

  "You want her?"
I asked Maddox, the lack of jealousy surprising me. Maddox shared everything with me. Whatever I needed, if he had it, he’d give it to me.

  He planted his apple in front of me. He always gave me part of his lunch every fucking day, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. "I can’t have her even if I did want her,” he muttered under his breath. “Did you see where she's sitting? I don’t have that big of a death wish, she’s a Russo."

  Bianca’s untouchable. Forbidden fruit.

  From then on, I made a point of avoiding her just like I did the rest of them.

  But I never stopped craving a taste.

  That was years ago, but right now, as I put the car in drive, all those memories are coming back, along with the dirty thoughts I used to have of that sweet forbidden fruit.

  Chapter 5

  Bianca

  My chest is tight as I watch the Russo mansion fade away into the distance, taking me away from everything I know and making my pulse race. I stare at the stone and glass building until it becomes a tiny dot and finally vanishes into the horizon, then I sit back and let out a jagged sigh.

  My body’s stiff as I rearrange my legs to get comfortable, my thighs brushing against the expensive leather seats. I feel odd sitting in the back of a decked out black Escalade. The inside is fully customized for pure luxury and entertaining, equipped with a big screen TV and minibar, the seating plush and comfortable. I’m not used to this. I’ve been gone for years and even when I lived here before, I wasn’t escorted around like this.

  My parents didn’t flaunt their wealth. They didn’t make themselves targets, like my uncle does.

  My body sways as we go over a large bump in the road, but I barely feel it, the ride is so smooth.

  I doubt wherever I’m going is going to be as nice as my uncle's estate. It’s a safe house. That means it’s gonna be a fucking hole in the wall. I’m definitely not looking forward to being shacked up there with Damon and Maddox. I don’t want to be with anyone. Let alone two men who make me feel… so many conflicting things.