Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance (20 page)

His thighs push against the arm rest, gently pulsing his hips toward me and I notice the distinct outline of his erection under the tight cloth of his pants. I suck my lower lip in between my teeth and bite hard, trying to think of something else. Anything else.

“You see, we've got all the time in the world. You will give yourself to me. In fact… I'm gonna make you wait. I will make you beg for it, Marie.”

“I'll never —”

“— you'll beg me for it, Marie. You'll beg us to take you. You know you will.”

I shake my head back and forth but I can't take my eyes off the bulge in his trousers. He slowly drops his hands and strokes against the fabric there, outlining the thick shape that I can see so clearly in my mind’s eye. I know what that feels like, pressed up against me. And with Roman just feet away, I can feel his gaze burning into me too.

Clenching my thighs together, I try to hold back the gush of wetness in my panties. I'm afraid that they can smell me like wild animals or something. I'm afraid that they know that my body is like some kind of traitor.

“I don't… I won't…”

Alek smiles at me slowly, his lips stretching over his perfect white teeth. As I watch, his tongue comes out and slides slowly over his bottom lip, just wetting it. He's like a magnet, drawing me in. My heart is racing and my breath is powder in my throat. What is he doing to me? All of this is wrong, so wrong…

"Marie! Marie!” A voice comes from the front hallway. I hear the front door bang open and heavy heeled footsteps. Alek pushes himself back from my chair and crosses his arms over his chest while Roman stands up so fast his chair falls over backward. I shoot out of my chair too with my arms out. “It's Aunt Millie! Jesus, you guys. What are you gonna do? Shoot her?”

Roman jams the heels of his hands against his eye sockets. “You should tell your friends not to just come barging in here. Shooting her was actually the first option. Maybe next time.”

I stab the air in his general direction with one finger. “You just keep your mouth shut. You're not shooting anybody in my house, you got that? Absolutely nobody.”

“Aw, dumpling,” Alek purrs. “I love it when you’re sassy.”

Just as I'm turning around, Aunt Millie hobbles into the dining room on her wide set bowlegs. She's panting and red-faced, apparently exhausted from the effort of climbing up the front stairs with the giant casserole in her hands.

Rushing forward, I take it out of her grasp. “Aunt Millie! I didn't know you were coming…”

“Where's Nuncio?” she demands in a huff. “I almost had an attack coming up those steps. You don't take visitors? You don't know how?”

“Oh, um... You're so right, Aunt Millie. I'm so sorry. It's just that Nuncio —”

“Nuncio's not here anymore,” Alek interrupts.

Aunt Millie's coal black eyebrows go up at the edges sarcastically. She moves her lips around like she's tasting something sour in her mouth. “And why not?” she says, her eyes going up and down Alek’s body suspiciously. She seems to pause when she gets to the middle part, the part where I'm terrified to think that he still has an obvious, throbbing erection.

Oh my God. Please, no.

“Well,” I start uncertainly, “it's just that —”

“She has better security now,” Alek nods.

Aunt Millie clucks her tongue and shakes her head, rolling her eyes. I hear Roman behind me, growling ominously. Seriously, growling. Like a dog or something. I spin around to give him a warning look and he flinches back, confused. Then I turn back to Millie and plaster a smile on my face.

“Aunt Millie, is this casserole for us? You really shouldn't have!” I singsong politely, just like I'm supposed to.

Millie gives a disgusted sigh. “Yeah, sweetie, it's for you. Just a little lasagna. Nothing special. For the newlyweds, you know…”

She tilts slightly and peers at Roman over my shoulder, giving him unmitigated stink eye.

“I see you guys got all settled in,” she says slowly. I nod like it's just the most natural thing in the world. Then her eyes slide over to Alek again and she raises an eyebrow. “This one too?” she says as though he's not there.

I feel Alek bristle, and I can't help but enjoy it a little bit. Nobody in the world can insult you quite like an old Italian lady. Right in your face, like they're totally immune to any sense of danger. Which, in fact, they probably are.

“Oh didn't you meet Alek?” I say, holding my hand out by way of introduction. “Alek, this is my Aunt Millie. Aunt Millie, this is Alek, Roman's brother.”

Alek steps forward with his hand out which Millie shakes, squinting suspiciously.

“Pleased to meet you,” Alek says formally.

Sniffing, Millie allows him to shake her hand lightly but her nostrils flare as though she smells something rotten. Wow, she's really giving him the business.

“You living here too now?” she asks directly.

Alek flinches back, but the smile remains perfectly positioned on his face. “I'm security,” he explains.

“And, he's gay!” I chirp. “Completely, totally gay.”

Millie's mouth drops open in a slow
Ohhh
 as she puts it together. She looks him over again, pausing at the perfect eyebrows and perfect teeth. I suppress a squeal of absolute glee as Alek freezes in place, trying to maintain that obnoxious smile. When Millie finally nods and turns away toward the kitchen, he shoots me a death dagger look that just makes me want to giggle.

“There’s room in your fridge?” Millie says over her shoulder as she hobbles toward the kitchen, ready to rearrange my cabinets. “Nancy and Bonnie are on the way over, you know. Should be here any minute.”

“Wait, what?” Alek says.

“Yeah, of course. What did you think? It's a newlywed thing, Alek, you wouldn't understand,” I say meaningfully, enjoying it as he rolls his eyes in frustration.

I glance at Roman as I follow Millie into the kitchen, expecting something like humor on his face. But there isn't any. He's just as stony as before, just as inscrutable as he watches us leave the room.

ROMAN

Middle of the night, and I can't sleep again. This house is strange. It's nice, really nice. There's a lot of room and everything works really well. It's one million times better than that hole in the wall in Atlanta. But it's almost too nice. I feel like I'm staying at my grandparents’ house or something, like I keep expecting the sofa to be covered in plastic.

It doesn't help that Marie seems to be constantly following me around, sweeping the floor right under my heels and fluffing up pillows the moment I stand up from the sofa. It's weird. Like, what does she think I’m gonna do, leave a stain? The more she's doing it, the more it gets on my nerves.

She seems to be everywhere. I don't know if she's checking up on me or what. I guess it's possible that her people are so suspicious of my people that she doesn’t feel like it's safe to leave me alone in the house or something. Or maybe she just doesn't have anything to do. Am I supposed to be giving her something to do?

Fuck. I knew this was a stupid idea.

I stand staring into the refrigerator in the dark until I finally realize I don’t want anything in there. I close the doors and stand back when I see Alek, peering at me from next to the counter.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“Roman, Roman,” he sighs. “The question is, what are you doing?”

I just shake my head. “I'm going back to bed.”

“Nah, come on. Have a shot with me.”

“I don’t want a shot.”

“Sure you do. Have a shot with me, Roman. Just one.”

I stop and lean on the big thing in the middle of the kitchen, the island or whatever they call it. Alek is just gonna bug the crap out of me until I do this shot so I might as well. He waits for a second and then opens the freezer, pulling out a bottle of Stoli and swiping a couple of coffee cups off of the counter.

“Isn’t this nice?” he says as he pours a couple shots. “Just like old times, right?”

“Yeah, fuck you.”

“What? Fuck me? What did I do?"

“Nevermind, Alek. Just forget it. I’m going back to bed.”

“No, wait,” he says, sighing. He bangs his cup against mine and then slams the shot, dropping the cup back on the counter and filling it immediately. “Go on, drink up.”

Fine. Whatever. I knock back the shot, taking it down like nothing. As soon as I set the cup down, Alek pours three fingers in there. I have to admit, I like it when it is super cold, almost like syrup.

“Okay, why are you mad?”

“I'm tired.”

Alek punches me in the shoulder, a subtle reminder that his protocol is to ask me questions I don't want to answer until it feels like it's a good idea to start wrestling or something. I am so not in the mood for this.

“Roman. Why are you mad?”

If I start talking now, there is some chance he will let me go to bed before dawn. If I try to leave the kitchen, there is 100% chance that he'll decide this is a good moment for some MMA fighting in the living room.

Much as I would like to knock his teeth in right now, we live in a neighborhood. The kind of a neighborhood where people would call the police. The kind of a neighborhood where the Italians are definitely looking for reasons to call the police on me, as a matter of fact.

Which I guess is all part of my problem.

“We should have stayed in Atlanta,” I say simply. He should leave it at that. I want him to leave it at that.

He raises his shoulders and lets them drop helplessly. “Probably,” he admits. “But Stosh called you here. What else were you gonna do?”

“Well, then
you
should have stayed in Atlanta. You didn’t have to come.”

“Of course I had to come. The fuck are you talking about?”

“Me? Nothing. I'm not talking about nothing.”

We stand there in the dark for a few minutes, just blinking. Just breathing. Was that enough? I pick up the mug and slam the rest of the drink, almost choking on it. It’s a little too much, but now I want to be out here. Unfortunately, the moment I put the cup down, Alek is filling it right back up again.

Shit.

I knew he was not going to stay in Atlanta. We've never been apart for more than a few days. Not since we were born. Tried once, and it was like stretching an elastic band until,
snap
, we came back together. With a bang, you might say. The sort of bang that left me all fucked-up looking, but him still looking like Prince Fucking Charming.

Go figure.

“Well… Everything in Chicago doesn't suck,” he starts again softly. “Think about it. I mean, so far, everything seems to be working out really —”

“— fucked up,” I finish for him.

“It doesn't have to be fucked up. You could just try, you know. Plenty of guys have wives and stuff like that. You don't have to be all lone wolf about everything.”

“I didn't want a wife, Alek.
I didn't want one.
 You remember that?” I hear my voice getting louder. I don’t want to talk about this, I really don't. Maybe it's the vodka or something. I should just go back to bed now.

“I know you said you didn't want one, Roman. But here we are, man. She's not so bad really. I sort of like her.”

“Yeah, no shit.
You
sort of like her.
You
take her then.”

Alek shakes his head. I know he wouldn't do that. That would be just weird. It's just not how we were made, I guess. We’re like two pieces of a puzzle, two halves of the same loaf of bread. We don't work if we’re not together, and I guess I know that. But a third person… Someone so weak, so fragile. This is just going to end in blood, and I know it. I think he knows it too, he just doesn't want to say it.

“Roman, she’s something else. If you would just let yourself, you know, enjoy it…”

“Enjoy what? Putting your life at risk? You know every day that we're together people are watching us, right?”

“No. Every day that you guys are together the Italians calm down a little bit. That's the whole reason this was set up.”

“Idiot!” I bark into the darkness. “That's a lie, don't you know that! This isn’t a peace offering… This is a set up. This is a fucking trap, Alek, can't you see that?”

Alek rocks back. I suddenly realize he really doesn't know that. For all his brains, this one slipped right past him.

“Wait, no… What are you talking about? Roman, are you serious?”

“Okay, I'm not 100% certain,” I admit. “But just think about it for a second. When you asked me if I brought anything back from Atlanta, I know I said no but, what if I did? What happened to Dimi? Does it seem just a little bit strange that there was nobody else around who could make this work? Nobody?”

Alek just hums for a second. That’s the sound that he makes when he is adding up a row of numbers.

“Something's fucked up here,” I continue. “Maybe it's her.”

“What? You can't really think that.”

I shrug. “Why not? You said yourself there seems to be more to her than meets the eye, right?"