Page 16 of Mob Queen

“Imagine how many mouths they could feed with what they dropped on this ball. And for what? To introduce the new governor. Fucking bullshit,” Rome groans. “Here.” He pulls my chair out and waits until I’m seated before he sits beside me. “So, have you met this new governor?”

“Not personally. I know who he is though.” I look around the room trying to spot him. “There he is.” He’s working the room, stopping to talk to people as he moves around the guests. “Stay here.”

I stand and head toward Miller. There’s a band playing background music, and a lot of chatter from rich people drinking crappy wine and champagne.

I maneuver through the guests until I’m close to Miller. Well, he’s surprisingly better-looking than I remember him to be. He’s tall with a chiseled, defined chin, and a hard, toned body. He looks damned good in a suit. I wonder how he looks out of one.

He makes his way closer to me, and when he’s within reach, I step forward, link our fingers together and begin to walk toward the dance floor. “Oh,” he says and smiles. “I do like a woman who knows what she wants.”

“Good, because I want to dance.” We get to the dance floor, and the people standing around drinking begin to part and move to the side. “Dance with me.”

Jeremy places his right hand to my hip, and grips my hand in his left. With his warm hand cupping mine, and his fingers possessively digging into my hip he expertly moves me around the dance floor. “Miss DeLuca, I’d heard you bought a ticket to the ball.”

I internally smile. He knows exactly who I am. “I wanted to congratulate you on your new role.”

“I’m not going to take your money,” he says as he continues to sway us to the music, pulling me in closer than he should.

“I didn’t realize I was offering you any.” His pinky skims across the top of my ass.

“I know who you are.” Jeremy tightens his hand to my lower back, closing the distance between us.

“So you should.” I stare up into his alluring dark gray eyes.

“I’m not giving you access to the ports you need.” His eyes dart to my lips, then back up to my eyes. He visibly swallows then turns his neck so he’s not looking at me. “I’m sorry you wasted your time here.” Jeremy releases his fingers around my hand, but I grip his hand in mine. “What are you doing?”

“I told you, I want to dance.”

His teeth grind together as he keeps his steely eyes on mine. “Do you fight dirty?”

“If I have to.”

He brings me in closer, our bodies smashed against one another. Miller lowers his head, I can feel his hot breath skimming across the sensitive skin below my ear. “So can I, Miss DeLuca. So can I.” He steps back and while keeping his eyes on mine, he gives me a small bow. “Thank you for the dance.”

Miller turns to leave me stranded on the dance floor, but thankfully, my brother steps in and begins dancing with me. “What happened?”

“He’s not a fucking straight arrow at all.” I can’t help but smile as I watch Miller socialize with other guests. Interestingly though, he keeps looking over at me too. “He told me he can play dirty.”

“Did he?”

“He has no idea what I’m capable of.”

“I’m already dreading the bloodshed.”

“No blood will spill, Rome. But this is going to be fun. That’s for sure.” I look over to Jeremy who’s nursing a drink. We lock eyes and I tilt my head to him.

There’s no doubt in my mind that I’ll keep access to the docks. Because at the end of the day, Miller is still a man. I’m Frankie DeLuca, the don of the DeLuca Family ? a fucking mob queen – and I get whatever I want.

Game on.

Chapter 6

Jeremy

I look down to the woman kneeling before me. Her blonde hair is falling loosely over her shoulders. Her head is bobbing up and down as she takes me deep into her mouth.

“That’s it, take my cock as far as you can.” I slide my hand to the back of her head and force her to take me deep. The blonde is certainly gorgeous. Her tight body is perfect. And ordinarily, she’s exactly the type I’d go for. Pretty, petite, nice tits, a mouth that can engulf my length, and obedient. God, how I love them to pamper to my needs without question.

But, for some reason, when I close my eyes to concentrate on the feeling of the blonde’s mouth, all I can see is Frankie DeLuca. Her wild brown hair, those deep, sinful dark eyes. Jesus, she’s a vixen if ever I’ve met one.

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