The Killer's New Obsession: A Possessive Mafia Romance

by Hamel, B. B.

  “That’s not the plan.”

  But I didn’t say it wasn’t possible.

  I’d seen too many people get hurt in the mafia, and I didn’t want to lie to her.

  She sighed and looked over her shoulder across the street toward the houses that stretched up north. “We’re near the old neighborhood,” she said softly.

  She was right—we grew up maybe ten blocks from where we stood.

  “You plan on visiting home?” I asked.

  She laughed. “No way in hell,” she said. “I left there for good.” But she hesitated, still looking in the direction of her old house. “Do you know how they are? My parents, I mean. They’re alive, right?”

  “Last I heard,” I said, which was true, although I hadn’t checked in on them in a while.

  “They haven’t… changed, right?” She asked almost too quietly for me to hear. It nearly broke my heart, the hope in her voice.

  “No,” I said. “They haven’t. Not that I know of, anyway.” I stood up straight and touched her arm.

  She flinched away, then relaxed when I touched it again. I moved closer and could feel the palpable tension between us, like a compressed spring ready to burst.

  I wanted her as badly as the first time I met her. And I knew she felt the same, even if her anger held her back.

  But she was like a wild animal, still untamed and liable to lash out. I had to show her that I wouldn’t hurt her first, and then I could take what I wanted.

  “Let’s head back,” I said and took her back to the truck. We didn’t talk as we drove to my place, and she disappeared back into the bedroom. I figured she needed some time alone, so I gave her some space, even if all I wanted to do was break down that door and make her all mine.

  9

  Irene

  Kira flitted through my dreams. I thrashed and sweated all night, waking and drifting off, and each time I passed back out, I saw Kira there, Kira chewing her nails, Kira glaring at me mockingly, Kira laughing like she knew something I didn’t.

  In the morning, the living room was empty, which meant Cam had already left. I made coffee and sat in the kitchen with my legs crossed under me trying to decide what I was going to do.

  I trusted that Cam wanted to take Ronan down, but I didn’t know if the Valentino family would be better for the city or not. All those girls that worked for the Healys would need some place to go, and I couldn’t imagine Don Valentino stepping up to help them.

  If anything, the Valentino family would take all those poor, lost girls, and do to them exactly what the Healy family was already doing.

  I couldn’t be a part of that. It made my spine itch thinking about it. I paced around the apartment and spent the afternoon worrying.

  But I couldn’t deny how Cam made me feel. Every time I was around him, something slipped into my awareness: his muscular forearms, the tattoos peeking out from beneath his shirt, the malevolent smile, his shining eyes. He scared me and excited me in ways I couldn’t exactly understand, and I wanted to reach out and touch his lips—

  Though I knew as soon as I went down that road, I’d never be able to find my way back again.

  Still, his arms wrapped around me, his lips next to my throat, it drove me crazy with need.

  It was late afternoon when he finally came back looking tired. He opened a beer and drank down half before looking at me with narrowed eyes.

  “Why are you looking at me like you’re about to shove a knife in my throat?” he asked.

  I grinned and mimed a cutting motion across my neck. “That’s because I have some very violent plans for you.”

  “I guess I shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

  “Not if you value your limbs.”

  “Kinky,” he said, head cocked. “Is there foreplay first, or do you go right for the chainsaw?”

  “I was thinking butter knife,” I said and leaned against the counter. “Nice and rusty.”

  “Oh, yeah, girl,” he said, smirking as he sipped his drink. “I like it slow.”

  I snorted and took a deep breath. “We need to talk about Kira,” I said.

  “What about her?” he asked, glancing through the refrigerator for something to eat. He took out tortillas, ground turkey, and got to work making simple tacos, toasting the tortillas directly over the gas burner.

  “I want to know what you plan on doing with all those girls,” I said.

  “Ask them some questions, mostly,” Cam said, not looking at me as he cooked. “But I told you that already.”

  “I mean after,” I said. “When it’s all over.”

  He didn’t answer right away. He stirred the meat, browning it, then added in the spice mixture. It was his own special blend, which I honestly marveled over—this man, this mafia killer, liked to cook.

  “I don’t know,” he said finally. “The Valentino family doesn’t run girls. Dean’s father, the former Don, he was moving in that direction. But the current Don isn’t too interested in it.”

  “So we’ll let them all go?” I asked hopefully.

  “I don’t know,” he said again, still not looking at me. “I take orders. That’s all I do.”

  “There it is,” I said, feeling a simmer of anger in my skin. “As soon as I ask a hard question, you’ve got an excuse all lined up already. Punt responsibility off to someone else.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing,” he said.

  But he still didn’t look back at me.

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked. “Are you just trying to win your war?”

  He slammed his drink down the counter. I jumped, surprised, and took a step back. He turned, his face twisted into anger.

  “Damn right I am,” he said with a growl, and it took the breath from my throat. I hadn’t seen Cam angry for a long time, and it was startling. He was glorious, strong, and terrifying all at once.

  But I couldn’t let him bully me, not right now. “Then you’re only doing this for yourself,” I said. “You don’t give a shit about those girls.”

  “I give a shit about you,” he said, coming toward me, but I backed off.

  “I don’t want to hear that,” I said. “Honestly, if you think you’re doing all this for me, then you can stop right now. If it were up to me, you’d walk away from all this, leave those girls alone, and let this blow over. Or you can just give me money and I’ll disappear.”

  His jaw worked with anger. “What makes you think you know what’s best?” he asked. “You spend a couple years on the street and suddenly you know this city?”

  “Cam,” I said, voice low.

  “I mean it,” he said. “I’ve been working for the Valentinos all this time, and I’ve seen how bad it can be. I know what these women go through, I know the dirty shit Ronan’s been up to. You think we can just turn our backs?”

  “You’re only doing this for yourself,” I pressed.

  “Damn right I am,” he said. “Because I want to help you. What the hell’s so wrong with that?”

  He stood staring at me for a second and I stared back, not prepared to back down, but I didn’t have to. He returned to the stove and stirred, grunting with rage the whole time, before finally plating everything, slamming the food together like he wanted to beat the hell out of it.

  I watched silently. He shoved a plate at me then sat down at the kitchen table, leaned over, and began eating.

  I put my plate down across from him, but didn’t touch the food, and stayed on my feet.

  “I don’t trust your family,” I said, and he didn’t look up at me, so I pushed on. “I’m worried your Don’s going to take those girls and keep them working instead of helping them. I’m worried that you’ll take down Ronan, and the girls will suffer for it somehow. I’m worried you’ll get someone killed.”

  He pushed his plate away and glared at me. “What more do you want from me?” he asked. “You want me to be perfect? I can’t promise everyone’s going to walk away from this without bleeding. Don’t you get that? I’m going
to bleed, too.”

  “I don’t want any of that.”

  He stood up abruptly, breathing hard. “How many more people do I need to kill? What more can I do for you until you get it, Irene? I want to help you.”

  I took a step away as he came around the table toward me. “I never asked for your help.”

  “But you need it.” He stared at me with raging fire and I felt that sudden thrill at the base of my spine again, like a magnet tugging me toward him. I resisted, kept backing up until I ran into the wall.

  He didn’t stop.

  “Do you remember why I was so mad at you back then?” I asked, voice almost a whisper.

  He stood inches in front of me and put one hand on the wall to my right, practically pinning me there.

  “I remember everything,” he said.

  “I begged you not to go down that road,” I said. “You had so much potential, and you decided to waste it. And now you’re still barreling forward like you’ve got no choice.”

  “What about you?” he asked, voice harsh. “You run away when things get tough and hide out in the streets, and now it’s like you forgot how to live like a normal person.”

  “Maybe I did,” I said, tilting my chin up.

  “You’ve done things you’re not proud of,” he whispered, and his other hand came up to touch my cheek.

  I sucked in a breath and stopped the groan that came unbidden to my lips. God, whenever he touched me, I melted into a stupid puddle of need and want, but I couldn’t afford that, not right now.

  “I know,” I said. “You don’t need to remind me.”

  “It’s the same with me. I’m doing all this to survive, too.”

  “Except you have a choice.”

  “You did too.”

  We stared at each other, not moving, inches apart, and god, I wanted it so badly I felt my legs tremble. He reached down and put one hand on my hips, and I pushed myself closer to him, back arched. His lips parted, head tilted to the side.

  “I never had a choice,” he whispered. “It was the Valentino family or struggle my whole life. I don’t regret joining.”

  “Then I don’t regret running away.” I put my hands on his chest like I was losing my mind. “Promise me you’re going to do everything you can to help those Healy girls.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” he said.

  My fingers dug into his shirt. “Promise,” I whispered, staring into his eyes.

  “I promise,” he said, and then did the worst thing he could do, the thing I’d been wanting and dreading.

  He kissed me, and god, it was as good as I feared.

  His lips were supple but rough all at once, and his taste was like a freshly poured concrete mixed with spices. I pushed myself against him and let his arms wrap around me, powerful and intense, and I knew he could break me if he wanted.

  But he was gentle as he pulled me over to the couch and dragged me down into his lap. I straddled him, back arched, kissing him slowly. He pulled my top off, tossed his aside, and kissed my neck, my chest, then unhooked my bra and palmed my breasts.

  My skin tingled, my body shivered. This was something I’d wanted for so long, ever since we were kids. Cam was the one person that drove me wild, and I hated him for a little bit, hated him for turning his back on himself and throwing his life away in the service of some mafia.

  All for money, all for power. And maybe for survival, I couldn’t deny him that.

  But the pure, raw need never went away, not in the two years I lived on the streets. I still felt it at night, closing my eyes, afraid, worried, but still felt it. Cam and his hands, his lips, his tongue and teeth, his body pinning me down, making me sweat.

  Years waiting for this, long years for this, and it was exactly what I knew it would be.

  My back arched. He teased my nipples then turned me, pushing me down onto the couch. I wrapped my legs around him and moaned as he kissed my collarbone, my neck, my breasts, then moved down, pulled off my jeans, peeling me apart like fresh fruit, then spread my legs and buried his mouth against my panties.

  I gripped his hair as he pushed them aside then tongued my pussy from top to bottom.

  Pleasure ripped through me in waves. I held his hair tight and closed my eyes, squeezing them shut as I moaned his name and writhed my hips. He was almost gentle at first, almost licking me lovingly, and I thought of all the hours we’d spent together, all the tension that grew and grew over the years, all those moments sitting in the park next to each other, our hands almost touching, and how this was what I’d really wanted, how this was what I needed.

  He went faster, licking me, sucking me, and I gasped as sharp shooting bursts of ecstasy rolled through me each time his tongue hit my clit just right. Cam, my monster, Cam, my killer and my savior, I hated him and loved him. I’d needed him for so long and only found him by accident again, and now he was where I wanted him, between my legs, touching me in ways I only ever dreamed about, and I needed him, wanted him, as I whispered his name in gasping breaths, and god, I came against his tongue, in a wild explosion of intensity that rocked along my hips, down to my toes and back up again. My back arched, my eyes rolled back, and my skin flushed pink, but none of it mattered. He went and he went, and when I finally ended up a quivering mess on the couch, he pulled back and looked at me with these adoring eyes.

  “That’s a good girl,” he whispered, and leaned down to kiss me. I tasted myself on his lips, and didn’t mind one bit.

  He touched my cheek then pulled away. I felt his absence almost as sharply as his tongue between my legs. I wanted to reach out and pull him back, but I was suddenly very away of my body as he looked at me, eyes roaming down my skin.

  I got dressed awkwardly. “That doesn’t get you out of our discussion,” I said finally, once I had my clothes on and I could put my shields back up, even though I knew my shields were permanently damaged, maybe completely destroyed.

  “You think so?” he asked. “I don’t know. I think I just earned some good will.”

  I glared at him. “Stop it,” I said. “I want that promise.”

  “I promise,” he said with total sincerity.

  I softened a bit and nodded. “Thank you.” I turned away from him, wishing his place was bigger so I could escape. “What just happened, uh—”

  “You don’t have to talk about it yet,” he said and came closer again, one hand gently on my arm. “When was the last time someone touched you like that?”

  “Like that?” I asked, looking back at him. “Never.”

  His eyes widened, but he said nothing. “Then you’re in luck,” he said. “Because I feel like I need to make up for all the years we’ve been apart.”

  I pushed him away gently, but smiled as I walked back toward his room. “How about you start by keeping your word?” I said, and hurried down the hall.

  I shut the door and locked the handle, then leaned back against it as if he might force his way through. I closed my eyes and tried to steady my breathing, but I was an absolute wreck.

  I shouldn’t have done that. I knew it now as clarity began to settle over me again and the orgasm fog started to lift. This situation with Cam, it’s temporary, even if he thinks he can pay me to stick around.

  Even if he wants to take care of me.

  I don’t need that. I ran away once and I survived.

  I could do it again if I had to.

  10

  Cam

  Kira’s first contact lived in a rundown house right on the edge of West Philly, just across the South Street Bridge. Linc and Omar sat in the back of my truck, and Irene sat up front with me, studiously trying to avoid my gaze like if we locked eyes she’d come all over again.

  Gorgeous fucking girl. I smiled to myself as I parked. She’d barely spoken to me since I got her off, and I wasn’t going to push her. I knew she needed time to come back out of her shell, especially after the way she’d lived for the last couple of years, but every time I thought of her body, those pert breas
ts and hard nipples and that delicious, soaking wet pussy and the way she moved her hips, I knew she wanted more. I knew she’d come begging for it, sooner or later.

  I had to be patient. And I could wait, especially for something as good as her.

  “The girl’s name is Luiza,” I said. “She’s in one of the profiles, but there’s not much about her.”

  “How’s Kira know her?” Linc asked, leaning forward.

  “I guess they worked together,” I said. “I didn’t exactly ask.”

  He shrugged and sat back. “I’m not sure why you trust that whore so much.” He glanced at Irene. “No offense.”

  She made a face. “Do you think I’m a prostitute?” she asked, definitely offended.

  Linc opened his mouth, but I spoke up before he could dig an even deeper grave.

  “Kira’s been a good source,” I said. “And she gives a shit about these girls. She knows we have their best interests at heart.” I shared a look with Irene, but she didn’t argue. “All we have to do is talk to the girl, get her story, and get out.”

  “No problem, boss,” Omar said, looking bored. “I’ll be on guard duty, yeah? Hasn’t been much action since that last hit.”

  I nodded at him. “Stay outside then and keep an eye out. Linc and Irene, you’re with me.” I got out of the truck and they followed. Omar leaned against the bed of the truck and nodded as we crossed the street toward the house. Irene caught up with me and spoke softly as Linc trailed behind.

  “He doesn’t think I’m a hooker, does he?” she asked.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Linc’s just a fucking moron.”

  She gave me a look, but we reached the door of the house, and Linc caught up. I knocked, waited a second, and knocked again before someone answered.

  Luiza was small, tiny really, with round eyes and chubby cheeks. She wore gray sweatpants and a tight black t-shirt that didn’t leave much to the imagination. “Are you Cam?” she asked.

  “That’s right,” I said. “This is Linc and this is Irene. Kira sent us.”