Franklin: A Boston Mafia Romance (The Boston Wolfes)

by Billie Lustig

  “Kenny,” I demand, my voice husky and needy as my thumb starts to caress her cheek in soft strokes.

  I look into her eyes, seeing the conflict that is going on in her head while she’s staring at my chest, hating whatever it is that is making her too insecure to be honest about what she wants. I let go of the tension in my body, hoping it will make her more at ease while I patiently wait for her answer.

  Finally, she lets out a deep breath before she looks at me through her thick eyelashes.

  “You didn’t come back to The Library,” she whispers, her cheeks looking flushed while shame washes across her face as soon as the words leave her lips.

  My eyes gleam in surprise, not expecting that answer at all.

  I stopped going to The Library because I’d thought I made her uncomfortable. I’d thought she’d be more at ease when it was just the two of us working together, giving me an easier way to get to know her.

  “Did you miss me?” I smile.

  A slight grin appears on her face, her shame fading away as she lazily leans her head against the wall, giving me easy access to her mouth.

  “Maybe.”

  I like her like this. When she feels comfortable enough to flirt with me, confident enough to tell me what’s going on in that gorgeous head of hers.

  “I didn’t want to stay away,” I explain, brushing my nose against hers.

  “Then why did you?” Her voice is hoarse, stirring my dick to life, so it’s now pressing against my pants.

  “How about you have drinks with me, and maybe I’ll tell you.”

  “Franklin Wolfe, is anything free when it comes to you?” she taunts.

  “Yes,” I admit, ready to push her out of her comfort zone a little further. “Sex.”

  I chuckle when her eyes widen in shock.

  “Don’t ask if you don’t want the answer, pretty girl.” I push off the wall, creating distance between us before I walk towards the coat rack to grab her jacket. When I turn around with her long, black trench coat in my hand, she is still plastered against the wall, frozen to the spot. She looks at me with a bewildered look, finally telling me she feels the lust between us just as much as I do.

  “Are you coming, pretty girl?” I ask while I hold out my hand to her with a beaming smile.

  Eleven

  Kendall

  I’m fucked.

  No matter how much I try, there is just no denying it.

  I’m fucked.

  The second he brought his lips to my most sensitive spot, as if he’d been there his entire life, I knew I was fucked. I’ve been trying to keep my distance all week, yet in just five minutes, he managed to break down every wall I’ve built. The sexual tension climbed between us as he pushed his body against mine, making my head foggy as if I was stuck in a big cloud that’s named Franklin Wolfe. And I enjoyed every fucking second of it. He barely touched my lips with his own, but already I’m craving more, feeling the desperate need to stay physically connected to him.

  So much for having a backbone, Kendall.

  Now he’s escorting me down the clean streets of Boston while I suck in the fresh air, his arm linked through mine as if we’ve been doing this for years instead of minutes. I have no clue where we’re going, but to be honest, I couldn’t give a shit right now. Any time he’ll give me, I will gladly take.

  “Are you sure you want drinks? Shouldn’t you go to bed?” I look up to him while we keep the same pace, thinking back to how I found him with his eyes closed back at the office.

  “Will you be joining me in my bed, Kenny?” he replies, blunt as always.

  Rapidly, I feel my face starting to heat, embarrassed by my question.

  “No.” I think.

  “That’s what I thought, so I’m postponing sleep to spend time with you.”

  I smile at his answer, a small flutter swirling through my belly. We continue walking in a comfortable silence for a few more minutes until he leads me into a dark alley, reminding me of Emerson. I hold on tight to his arm, my eyes anxiously looking around me until he stops in front of a black door. He knocks three times, and within two seconds, the peephole opens, displaying a dark set of eyes. They quickly assess Franklin before the small window shuts again, followed by the sound of a deadbolt turning on the other side.

  “Evening, boss.” The door is opened by a huge guy, tall as a skyscraper, broad like a wall. With his long, scruffy beard, he reminds me of a yeti. I’m looking at him with bulging eyes when Franklin grabs my hand, entwining his fingers with mine before softly tugging me behind him.

  “Evening, bear.”

  “Bear? His name is bear?” I hiss incredulously, looking behind me in hopes that he didn’t hear me.

  Franklin gives me an amused smile as he nods his head in confirmation.

  “I wonder why that is,” I murmur sarcastically while we walk through a hallway that is poorly lit, leading to a burgundy velvet curtain. The sounds of noise and music get louder with every step we take. Finally, he pushes the curtain aside, exposing me to a bar completely hidden from the outside. The area is long but narrow, decorated in the same burgundy color. On the right side is a bar as long as the entire space, while the other side holds a row of tables. A small podium is in the middle where a girl is currently playing guitar, singing some jazzy tune with her eyes closed, completely lost in her song. Almost every seat in the bar is filled, and instantly, all eyes seem to be on us when they notice Franklin entering the room.

  “Didn’t the prohibition end like a hundred years ago?” I joke while I try to hide my discomfort with a tight smile as I keep strutting next to him.

  “Eighty-eight, but yeah.” He winks, catching me off guard with his accurate knowledge of American history. He leads us to the back of the bar, towards a huge booth. It’s big enough to fit at least eight people, and his brother Reign is sitting in the middle of it. Next to him sits a man with short brown hair, looking slicker than Reign in his leather jacket, yet sharing the same hypnotizing green eyes as him and Franklin.

  “Well, if it isn’t the feisty accountant my brother forced to work for us,” Reign taunts with a boyish grin, making me blush a little.

  He taps the empty spot next to him as Franklin softly pushes me in front of him.

  “Come sit,” Reign offers while I scooch in next to him.

  “Kendall, this is Killian. The manwhore of the pack,” Reign tells me before he takes a sip of his whiskey while Franklin takes the seat next to me.

  I give Killian a friendly smile and offer him my hand. He eagerly grabs it, pinning me down with a barely detectable glare, but I can see suspicion in his eyes before a charming grin appears on his face. An unsettling feeling bubbles inside me while I mirror his expression to try to relieve the tension.

  “Pleasure,” he mutters before he lets go of my hand. “And don’t listen to Prince Charming over here. He’s full of shit.”

  “They’re both full of shit,” Franklin booms across the table, glaring them both into silence.

  They keep their mouths shut as Franklin lifts a hand in the air, waiting for a bartender to take his order. When the waiter arrives, he turns his head towards me, his hand landing on my thigh. I bite my lip at the warmth of his palm radiating through my jeans.

  “What do you want, pretty girl?”

  I flutter my lashes at him while finding my voice, the small gesture of affection startling me for a second.

  “Uh, yeah. Right. A vodka lime, please,” I tell the waiter with a smile while secretly glancing at Franklin from the corner of my eye, still highly aware of his hand on my leg.

  “So.” Reign leans his elbows on the table, bringing his attention towards me. “Did my brother force you to come here? Because if you need saving, just say the word.”

  I chuckle at his choice of words, remembering our conversation from a few days ago.

  “Yeah, Reign here likes to play the knight in shining armor. Saving every damsel in distress.” I can hear annoyance in Franklin’s voice th
at has my head panning back and forth between the two of them.

  “Not every damsel, Franky,” Reign scolds.

  I give both of them a confused look, definitely feeling some kind of tension between them.

  “Don’t mind my brother here. He didn’t sleep much last night,” Reign mutters while he bumps his shoulder against mine.

  “Who’s fault was that?” Franklin glares.

  “Your own, because you could’ve just said no.”

  “Like I ever say no to you.”

  I watch how Reign rolls his eyes at Franklin’s response while the waiter sets down our drinks.

  “Has he been this grumpy to you the whole week? Or am I the only one getting the honors?” Reign says charmingly, ignoring the scowl on his brother’s face while I look at him from above the rim of my glass. I let out a soft chuckle before I take a sip of my drink, the clear liquor warming me inside while I enjoy the freshness of the lime.

  “He’s been nice.”

  “Just nice, huh?” Franklin muses next to me while he leans back against the bench, draping his arm behind me.

  “Hmm.” I shoot him a daring smile, meeting his perfectly straight face.

  If I didn’t have that very clear memory of his body pressed against mine just now, I would’ve thought he hated me. His typically blank look would be the spark to set off my fire of insecurity. But after the last half hour, I know his whole act of indifference is nothing more than that: an act. An image, an exterior he keeps up for the rest of the world, making sure everyone thinks Franklin Wolfe is nothing more than a heartless criminal. But I remember the passion in his eyes when he pushed me against that wall.

  Franklin Wolfe is anything but heartless.

  “Well, enjoy it, darling. He’s normally not nice to anyone.” Reign clinks his glass against mine before lifting it in the air. “Cheers.”

  “Cheers,” I repeat with a pleased grin, looking between the three brothers.

  They all have the same green, mesmerizing eyes and a clear resemblance in their faces, yet they are completely different.

  Reign really is the charmer, with his boyish grin and his brown hair flopping in front of his forehead every time he speaks. There is a kindness in his eyes that makes it impossible to not like him, even though I’m sure he has his flaws.

  Killian is a whole different story.

  His appearance is more refined, yet he’s equally compelling. He’s well-dressed with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, bringing out the muscles in his forearms, and his dark brown hair is perfectly groomed on his head. He looks like a preppy straight-A student or the perfect son-in-law, though I’m pretty sure he’s neither.

  My heart drops when Killian’s eyes find mine, glaring at me without shame. I run my hand through my hair and breathe in through my nose, doing my best not to cower under his intimidating gaze. I smile at him, hoping to warm him up a little while Reign looks between his brother and me. When he realizes he’s devouring me with just a look, he kicks him underneath the table, Franklin completely oblivious while he leans in to whisper something in my ear.

  “How about I show you just how nice I can be later tonight?” Franklin rumbles in my ear. His breath fanning the skin under my ear, opening the box of butterflies I’ve been trying to keep locked.

  Reign gives me an apologetic look, and I give him a tight smile while Franklin trails his fingertips up my leg, slowly moving his hand higher before he presses a kiss to my neck, practically burning me with his touch.

  A gasp escapes my lips before I force my focus back on Reign.

  “So there’s one more Wolfe, right?” I blurt out, hoping to shift the attention in any direction but mine. Franklin straightens his body, a smug smile on his face as he leans back.

  “Yeah, Connor. But we call him the ruffian,” Reign responds.

  “Correction, you call him the ruffian,” Killian chuckles.

  “Why is that?”

  “See for yourself,” Franklin replies as he pushes a strand of my hair over my shoulder. I follow his observations towards the door, my eyes instantly locking on the massive beast of a man walking our way. He’s huge, not only in height but also in muscle. The fabric of his army green t-shirt is wrapped tightly around his upper arms, and I can almost feel the ground shake with every step he takes. Unlike the other three Wolfe men, his hair is shorter and more blond than brown, but he possesses the same piercing green eyes. There’s a scar on his upper lip that gives him a menacing look that would frighten me if I wasn’t in the presence of the rest of his brothers.

  “Hey, ruffian,” Reign bellows through the bar before Connor reaches the booth.

  “Shut up, Reign.” He glances at his two other brothers before he lifts his chin, nudging it towards me.

  “Is she the new accountant?” His focus moves to Franklin, barely acknowledging the fact that I’m actually sitting right here, clearly not amused by my presence.

  Franklin nods his head in confirmation before he opens his mouth.

  “Connor, this is Kendall. Kendall, this is Connor.”

  Unexpectedly, a pleased grin splits his face, then he reaches out his hand over the table.

  “Sorry, just needed to make sure you weren’t some kind of booty call. I don’t mingle with his nightly conquests.”

  “Okay,” Franklin exclaims with annoyance. “Don’t the three of you have shit to do?” He glares at the three of them with a silent command. Reign and Killian get up, both rolling their eyes in protest.

  “Make sure you don’t forget one,” Franklin adds, pointing his finger in a reprimanding way while still holding his tumbler in his hand.

  “Whatever, tool.” Reign flips him the bird before turning to me, giving me a sweet smile. “I’ll see you around, darling.”

  “Yeah, see you.” I’m surprised Killian even says goodbye to me, though he does it with that same glare, leaving me with an unsettled feeling as he and Reign walk towards the exit.

  “You want me to check in on the paddock?” Connor asks Franklin, who gives him a quick nod before he follows his brothers out of the bar.

  “Paddock?”

  He just takes a sip of his drink, ignoring my question while he starts playing with my hair.

  “What are you doing, Franklin?” I ask with a husky voice, feeling the sexual tension between us rise again, like a big blanket covering us up in our own little bubble.

  “I have no fucking idea, pretty girl.”

  I keep staring at him while my breathing speeds up and my fingers start to tingle in nervousness. His hand migrates from my hair to the nape of my neck, then he starts to slowly massage my tense muscles. It feels amazing, so I can’t help my hooded eyes. Suddenly totally consumed by his overwhelming energy while his other hand reaches for his pack of cigarettes.

  “You know those will kill you,” I chide.

  He stares at me for a few seconds, the tips of his fingers frozen in place.

  “You sound like Reign.”

  “Reign is right.”

  “You have a problem with me smoking?”

  “No.” I swallow nervously. “But I’m not a fan of it either.”

  It’s nerve wracking how much I’m pulled into his energy, drowning in this intriguing man.

  “Do I still make you nervous?” His deep voice makes me turn my head to look into his green eyes.

  He does.

  He fucking makes me very nervous, but I can’t seem to stay away. It’s like he has my feet concreted into cement, making it impossible to walk away. Fortunately, I don’t want to.

  “I don’t know. You confuse me,” I admit honestly, smiling inside when his hand moves away from the pack of cigarettes.

  “Why is that?”

  I sigh, trying to find the words to describe whatever the fuck I’m feeling right now.

  “Because I know you’re the most feared man in this city. I should fear you. I should walk away, keeping this professional.” His eyes are boring into mine, as if he’s looking int
o the deepest and darkest parts of my soul. The tainted parts, the parts that are hurt, the parts that contain secrets, and the parts that are filled with desire. Desire to feel him closer.

  “Do you want to keep this professional, Ms. Ryan?” A hint of disappointment shows on his face, and it’s like a tight grip on my heart.

  “No.” I shake my head. “No, I don’t. But you?” I point my finger at him before I move it back and forth between the two of us. “This thing between you and me? It scares the shit out of me.”

  The faintest smile appears on his face, barely discernible, but I see it.

  “What can I do to take that fear away?” he asks with a soft voice that melts my heart.

  “Well, you could start by giving this girl something to eat because I’m starving.”

  A chuckle escapes his lips.

  “Fair enough,” he replies before he turns to find the waiter.

  Three hours later, my stomach is full, my muscles are relaxed, and I haven’t enjoyed myself so much since God knows when.

  “Have you ever been in love?” I ask, not sure where my bravery comes from.

  “No.”

  “What, you can’t be serious?” I exclaim, popping another cold fry in my mouth. “Not even puppy love? Middle school, high school, a college kinda thing?”

  We’ve been talking the entire time, and though his intimidating gaze causes goosebumps to trickle along my skin every time he stops talking and stares me down like I’m the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen, it’s the moments in between that kickstart the flutters in my stomach.

  It’s the small smiles, the soft touches as he brushes my hair out of my face, and the interest he so clearly has in me. Emerson never asked me anything. He’d always wanted to talk about him because I was just a silly student, still trying to graduate at twenty-five.

  But Franklin? He keeps his attention fully focused on me, as if he needs to know everything about me, inside and out.

  “I’ve never been to college.” He shrugs as if that answers my question.

  “High school?”

  He stays quiet, assessing my face before he pushes a strand of my hair behind my ears like he’s been doing all night, the soft brush of his fingers making me blush in response.