Page 4 of Protected By the Mafia

A soft click shattered the almost oppressive silence and her eyes flew open to discover a tableside lamp had been turned on, creating a halo-like glow in its section of the room. A glow which provided an eerie backdrop for the large, distinctly male figure that was sitting in the chair beside the desk.

Felicity pulled her legs in, as tight as she could, as she stared stubbornly into the small, blinding light.

“Good morning, sweet Felicity,” the male figure said. There was something familiar about his voice. “I am sorry we’re starting off this way, but regardless, welcome. Welcome to the first day of your new life.”

two

The First Day, pt I

Felicity’s mouth fell open as the man’s words echoed in her head. The man she still couldn’t properly see. The man who’d abducted her. “The … the what?” When had her mouth gone dry? It was so hard to talk. She sounded so weak.

He stood, and it was as if his shadow got sucked into the ceiling. His figure obscured nearly all of the light from the lamp, until only the widest reaching beams flanked his sides. Then, finally, it clicked in her mind where she’d heard that deep, slightly roughened timbre before.

The sexy stranger from the store… It was like being kicked in the stomach. So much for that fantasy.

“From today forward,” he said, speaking calmly as his shadowy figure moved further out of sight, “your life belongs to me.” More light poured into the room, this time from overhead, illuminating everything. “You won’t be going back to that grocery store. You won’t need to worry about that low-rent apartment, or paying your phone bill, or rushing out to catch a cab.” He dropped to a crouch next to the bed, probably as close to her as he’d been at the grocery store but in an intensely different way. Those blue eyes she remembered wanting to drown in bore into her. “The only thing you need to worry about now is whether or not you’re being honest with me.”

Her head spun. Felicity scooted a couple of inches away, too unsettled to really look around the room now that she could see it. “What?” She shook her head. “You can’t be serious. This isn’t real, right? This is some … some crazy prank, right?” She could feel her hysteria building as her breathing became unstable. “I’m just dreaming. Even my shit life isn’t this—”

She didn’t consciously see him move. One moment he was crouching outside the bed, watching her almost stoically. The next moment she was flat on her back, her head pressed into a pillow that definitely wasn’t her own and the man who might have kidnapped her in her sleep seemingly planked above her. On top of her.

His arms were braced outside her shoulders, his face directly over hers and close enough that she felt his soundless exhales against her skin. His whole body was close, despite that it wasn’t technically resting on hers. She could feel his chest against her breasts and her body tingled with the awareness of his nearness all down her legs to where her feet were pinned together between his legs.

Her eyes widened as a fresh wave of panic surged inside her.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, still speaking calmly. “I only need you to accept that this is real.”

His words did very little to calm her. “You just— How am I supposed to— Get off me!”

His lips twitched, warmth brightening his eyes faintly. “Raise your voice all you want. We don’t have neighbors. No one will hear you.” He paused for a heartbeat and his expression settled again. “Now, touch me.”

Her stomach rolled and something else coiled rebelliously. “Excuse me?” Her voice definitely sharpened with that one. They were still touching in too many places, so she felt the chuckle vibrate through him. She shouldn’t have enjoyed it, and she certainly shouldn’t have wished she could hear it, too.

“Put your hand on my body. Anywhere you like is fine. Pinch, scratch, punch if it makes you feel better—do what you have to do to convince yourself.”

Felicity swallowed hard. “Convince myself…?”

His voice dropped an octave, though his expression never wavered. “That I’m real. That this is real.”

Hand shaking, Felicity slowly reached up until her fingers were pressing into abdominal muscle. Tight, toned, masculine abdominal muscle. She dragged in a breath and pulled her hand higher, toward his shoulder. He was all muscle. So big, so strong, and so infuriatingly her type—aside from the kidnapping thing—that she was struggling to keep her priorities straight. If she knew the first damn thing about pressure points, maybe she could have used this opportunity to knock him out and escape. Then again, he was directly above her, so if he suddenly collapsed, she’d be crushed.

She didn’t realize her nails had dug into his shoulder through his shirt until he let out a low, almost strained groan. Her vision cleared in an instant and she caught the way his eyes seemed to glaze over as the rhythm of his breathing changed, becoming heavier. She immediately pulled her hand away, awkwardly tucking it up along her side.

He smirked. “Didn’t expect you to get flirty. You like pain?”

Heat seared her cheeks. She had to fight the instinct to shake her head. “N-no, I do not.” She didn’t think she did, anyway.

“You get cuter when you blush like that,” he said. “But we have plenty of time to talk about what each other likes.”

It was all she could do to keep dragging in breaths—breaths that smelled very much like the man who hadn’t yet let her up—as she attempted to unpack his words.

“Do you believe me now, sweet Felicity?”

Tears pricked her eyes. She’d liked when he’d called her that at the store. Now it felt … like a lie. “Yes,” she whispered. “But I don’t understand. What’s so special about me?” It was only a portion of the question she wanted to ask, but she figured that it did the job well enough. Or she hoped it did.

He sat up and twisted to the side, putting distance between them. Instead of completely standing from the bed, however, he slipped her nearest hand into his with a gentle touch and bent forward as he raised her arm. She watched as if having an out of body experience when his lips pressed warmly into the skin over her fingers, all while his stare remained locked with hers.

She should have yanked her hand away. She should have tested his claim that no one would hear them. She should have leapt from the bed and bolted for the door she could finally see. But she was frozen, her heart pounding hard against her ribs and beating like a war drum in her ears.

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