Tension : A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (9 page)

Chapter 23

 
Olivia huffs, wiping her hand against her forehead as she stands back, resting her hands on her hips to look over her job well done.

“Finally!” She gasps. “Every last frame in this place has been dusted!”

“You know…” Vincent says, walking up behind her before wrapping his arms around her and rubbing his palm gently against her round, protruding belly. “You don’t have to do this.”

  She laughs, leaning back into him as he kisses her neck.

“Well, it’s got to be done and I’m the only one around here who seems to do any of it.” She says back to him, placing her hand on top of his.

“I could always just hire someone else to clean around here.” Vincent whispers into her ear.

  She turns around, raising her eyebrow at him as he wraps his arms around her shoulders and presses their foreheads together.

“I don’t think so.” She says sternly. “You can’t get that past me, Mr. I know exactly the kinds of things you like to do to the girls you hire for chores.”

  He blushes, chuckling as he brushes his nose against her cheek.

“Speaking of…” He whispers to her. “I think there’s something you haven’t taken care of in a little while that’s in desperate need of a little…
dusting
…”

  She laughs, resting her head on his shoulder as she rests her hand on his hip.

“Heaven forbid you give your heavily pregnant wife a few days off from that.” She smiles, her face flushing as she slowly drags her hand over to the front of his suit pants before sinking her fingers down the waist. “I’m sure that’s been really hard on you…”

“It has.” He whispers, moaning gently as he feels Olivia slowly press her fingers up and down his shaft.

“Well, then I better take care of it.” She whispers to him, pulling her hand out of the waist of his pants before unbuttoning and unzipping them.

  She pushes them down, along with his boxers before wrapping her fingers around his shaft and slowly working it, rubbing up and down as he stiffens.

“Oh…” He moans, cupping her chin as he places a soft kiss against her lips.

   He walks her over to his desk, placing her hands on top of it and leaning her slightly forward as he sinks down to his knees behind her.

  He lifts her skirt up, pushing it up around her waist before hooking his fingers into the waist of her panties and pulling them down her thighs, letting them drop to the floor.

  She giggles, stepping out of them and kicking them away as she feels Vincent’s fingers slide up her thighs and brush over her puffy, dangling lips.

  She spreads her legs slightly apart and leans down onto the desk on her elbows as she feels him sink his finger into her, coaxing out her soaking wet slick before he adds another.

“You’ve been so soaking wet lately.” He whispers to her as he kisses the back of her thigh. “God, I love your sweet, wet pussy.”

  She gasps before letting the remainder of her breath out shakily as she feels her husband’s hot tongue press against her lips as he pumps his fingers back and forth before pulling the digits out of her and filling the gap with his tongue.

  Olivia moans out as she feels him thread his tongue between her lips, sliding it up to her clit as he spreads her cheeks apart.

  He stands up from his knees, dragging his hands up her thighs before wrapping his fingers around his stiff cock and pumping up and down the shaft a few times.

  Olivia closes her eyes, a soft smile gracing her lips as she feels him place the head of his cock at her entrance. He slides it back and forth between her sweet lips a few times before slowly sinking into her deeply.

“Mmmm.” She moans as she feels him slide himself out of her before quickly sinking back in.

  Vincent leans against her back, wrapping his arms around her to hold onto her belly as he slowly works his cock back and forth before sinking one of his hands down between her legs.

  She moans out as she feels him rub the tip of his finger against her pearl, causing the heat to build deep inside of her as he bucks his hips, pulling his cock in and out of her.

  She reaches to her belly to hold her hand against his as she feels the wave of pleasure reach her, sending a shiver up her spine as her walls grip him over and over in a spasm.

  Olivia gasps as she feels him thrust quicker, his manhood swelling inside of her as an orgasm overtakes him as well, his cock twitching as he spills his seed.

  She moans, whimpering as she feels him pull away from her as he walks over to his desk to grab them a box of tissues to clean up with.

“Olivia…” He says, kneeling down beside her before kissing her hip. “Olivia… I love you.”

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FEAR
!

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. All characters are over the age of majority and all sexual acts are completely consensual.

Fear

(Bad Boy Mafia Pregnancy Romance)

First edition. May, 2016.

Copyright © 2016 Rose Cody

Written By Rose Cody

Chapter 1

Johnny

  I guess being a gangster was just always fated to me.

  My pops, God rest his soul, was a hitman for the Ambrosini crime family. Always got the job done right. Couldn’t be prouder to call him “dad”.

  I didn’t know it at the time, of course, I was just a little boy, but all I knew was that he was well respected. And I wanted that.

  Luckily for me, when your dad plays with the big boys, there will always be an in for you. And there was. I was doing low level runs before I was even eighteen years old. And from there I worked my way up. It was slow. It was brutal. But now, nine years later I’m a full-fledged member of the Ambrosini crime family, too. A made man.

  Dad died seven years ago, and by “died” I mean he was hit out, which of course is a sad thing, but a gangster knows it’s how he’s going out from the beginning, and to be quite honest with you, I’m always kind of surprised it took them so long to get him.

  But my mom, boy, she was devastated. She knew what dad did. Of course she knew. How can you hide another man’s blood from the woman who washes your clothes? But I think she always ignored the reality of it.

  I can understand that, though. No one wants to think “oh, my husband’s a murderer and he probably got exactly what he deserved”. You see it all the time on TV, too; mother’s on the news trying to tell the world their kid is really a good kid after they shoot up a shopping mall. It’s sad but it’s the human condition.

  I thought I was going to lose her, too, after that one. Thought she was going to die from a broken heart.

  But she’s getting better, thanks in part to my beautiful baby sister having a beautiful baby girl of her own.

  Princess may only be five months old, but she’s already breathed years of life back into my mother’s heart.

  And mine, too. If you can imagine something like that!

  I spend a lot of my teenage years being jealous of all the pussy I saw the big hitters get. Girl after girl, night after night. You didn’t like a bitch? Toss her ass out! It didn’t matter. How great would that be to tell some whore to suck you off and then watch them get to their knees. That’s power right there.

  And it is great. You have no idea.

   But my little niece, man, for the first time in my entire life I catch myself rethinking things because of her. She’s uncle Johnny’s girl, no doubt. I would do anything for her. She makes me want more out of life.

  The way I looked up to my dad as a kid, I want someone to look up to me like that, too. Out of everything I got, and I got a lot, that’s the one thing my status can’t bring me. I’m finally seeing that there could potentially be more to life than
this
.

  I clear my throat before whistling out a soft note as I place the blow torch down on the wooden workshop bench I’m leaning on and bring the glowing, red nail up to my face.

“Woooah, man. This is a hot one.” I say, walking, holding the nail away from my face with a pair of pliers.

“Burning hot, Johnny, hey!” My co-worker, Dino, says, stepping back slightly as I walk towards him.

  I watch him lean down, getting right into the face of the guy we got tied up in the garage, his breath blowing the poor saps hair out of his eyes.

“But I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” He says, smirking as the man chained to the chair struggles. “What do you think? The hotter the better, or would you rather we go in cold?”

  I laugh as I watch him try to scream through the rag we duct taped into his mouth.

  Now, I’m not one to take pleasure in another person’s pain, right, but this guy… let’s just say, my boss is not very happy when nearly a million dollars in cocaine sales are nowhere to be found and if my boss ain’t happy, then I can’t be very happy either.

“One last chance!” I give him as I stand in front of him, the nail still red hot.

  He tries to pull away as he furiously nods his head up and down. I look at Dino motioning for him to tear away the tape.

“Where?” I ask shortly, leaning in to hear his answer.

“If you give me two days, just two days…” His panicked voice starts.

“No.” I smirk, sinking the hot nail into his skin, the heat only making it easier to sear through his meat.

  I listen to him shriek as I walk away, his cries soon muffled out as Dino stuffs the rag back into his mouth and tapes him up.

  I pick up another nail before leaning back against the workbench before lighting my torch again.

“Hey, Dino!” I shout, looking over towards him as I heat up another nail. “What’s open late tonight? I’m starving.”

Chapter 2

Amber

  I grew up much like any other kid around here; a mom, a dad, a golden doodle to keep me company…

  My city as it is now is actually a collection of a bunch of different former townships that eventually formed into one. They became the “neighbourhoods” as we like to call them around here. What used to be field on the highway is now strip malls, grocery stores and gas stations. Our former town halls are all but forgotten and turned into little movie theaters and play houses that… are still forgotten.

  I never felt unsafe growing up; maybe it was the small town or maybe it was just the times, but as a little girl, my friends and I could walk around my town and never actually have to think about what kind of people might be occupying the houses around us.

  I can’t say for certain when it changed. I know that we didn’t just wake up one day to gangs running our little city, it didn’t happen overnight. A gas station would be robbed here and there, someone would get beat up outside of the movies...

  I remember when my city had its first murder. I mean, people had died before. Every once in a while a bar fight would go too far or someone would get hit with a car, but an actual
murder
…

  Poor Ms. Bukowski was just sitting in her house and minding her own business while watching her gameshows when two masked men broke in her front door and stabbed her to death. They stole all her jewelry, fuck, they even stole her spoon collection!

  Things really weren’t the same after that. The people were demoralized and the police just didn’t have enough funding to take care of the snowballing crime. Nothing could be done.

  I was a teenager when my dad had the front windows to his bakery busted in. What could thugs possibly want to steal from a bakery? Cake? For the first time though, they came back the next day, almost like they were bragging about it. It was bold and it was scary.

  They told my dad that he could avoid all future frustrations for a small fee. And by small, I mean 10% of his sales.

  My dad came here from Poland with nothing but a single suitcase and a pregnant wife and built that business, just like everything else in our life, with his own two hands. A 10% cut in sales for a small town immigrant baker would be devastating, but not as devastating as everyone knew those thugs could be so my dad had no other choice but to take the deal.

  And my dad was not the only one. All around town we started noticing more and more businesses comping cups of coffee and steak dinners to the scummiest of people. It became obvious that our little city was no longer ours, it was now gang territory.  And there was nothing we could do about it.

  We paid them that 10% for years. Windows still got broken, people still got murdered, the “protection” wasn’t really protection after all, but who knows what would have happened if we refused? We just had to keep on paying.

  At least, that was the plan, to just keep paying, until about a month ago they stormed into my dad’s kitchen and demanded more.

  30%.

  They demanded 30% or they wipe him off the map. Sometimes I think my dad’s just stupid, but I can’t say I would do any differently. He refused. He didn’t work his fingers to the bone for 25 years to throw it all away. He didn’t work for 25 years just to not be able to feed his family because some thugs think they own him, because they think they own this whole town.

  He refused. And that night, they burned his bakery to the ground.

  My dad is a tough guy. Growing up in rural poverty usually has that effect on a person. I had never seen him cry, not even at my grandmother’s funeral, so to see him cry in the street as he watched the flames take his
whole life
was the final straw.

  I know I’m just one girl and one girl isn’t going to be able to make any impact on these sons of bitches, but I know someone who can and I know they’ll play dirty…

  The Mafia.