Page 6 of Contracted

My breath shuddered out. I’d heard the rumors. The Agostino mafia men weren’t known for their gentlemanly acts with women. I’d heard their father, Lorenzo, had been the worst of them all. Though I had no idea how he’d died, I was only grateful he was no longer alive to terrorize any more women.

Sex was one thing I couldn’t lose control of. It’d become something I could count on, the one thing I could command. Though it might have lost its charm, it’d never lost its power. My clients might think they were in charge, but I was the one they wanted, the woman they’d do anything to own, even just for a few hours.

I’d never felt that way more strongly than I did with this man. He wanted me on a level that was higher than the moon. It was oddly intoxicating and addicting, even as I wished not to experience such intensity and passion on the last day of my profession. I didn’t want to walk away second-guessing anything.

I wanted a clean slate, my past forgotten.

This man was blurring those lines and making me want the impossible.

I needed to steer clear of him and his family. After tonight I intended to do just that.

I managed a smile. “We make a good team,” I conceded. I forced brightness into my voice. “I’m going to enjoy our time together.”

I’d redrawn the line between us, reminding him that tonight was all we had, all we’d ever had.

He nodded, though I sensed my words had dimmed his fervor ever so slightly. I imagined, like me, he hadn’t been thinking about our force of nature coming to an end anytime soon.

“I’ll make sure of that,” he finally vowed. He pulled me closer, so close our bodies almost merged. “Every time you fuck some other guy, it will be me you’ll be thinking about. It will be us you’ll be remembering together.”

I trembled a little at the conviction and ferocity of his words. I wouldn’t tell him that after tonight—after him—there wouldn’t be any more clients. I dared not give him further ammunition to use in his fight to make me crave him alone.

Not that he gave me a chance to talk. He drew my head up and covered my mouth with his as he kissed me into an oblivion I never wanted to extract myself from. Pleasure fired up my synapses and burned through my body, my temperature rising fast.

He drew back only to lift me into his arms and carry me off the dancefloor. I clung onto his nape, a thrill shooting through me as my pulse thudded in my ears. His hair brushed my hands as he stalked toward a set of elevator doors. He punched a button to one side of a wall and the doors slid open, then as quickly closed behind us.

He looked down at me, his grip tightening. “If we didn’t have men watching every part of this house except the bedrooms and bathrooms, I’d gladly take you in the elevator.”

“A bunch of perverts would stop you?” I asked breathlessly.

His stare darkened. “Normally, no, it wouldn’t. But you’re worth more to me than that, and I don’t mean how much I paid to have you.”

My whole body tingled. I’d never been valued above the fee for my time, not ever. Yet here was this hard—literally—mobster man making me feel priceless in every way, shape and form.

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone,” he said roughly, but with so much sincerity, I almost melted in his arms.

“I feel the same way,” I admitted in a low voice. That I meant every word and it wasn’t part of my high price escort persona was everything to me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually wanted a man so unreservedly.

The doors slid open with a hiss. As he carried me down a corridor he explained, “I have my own wing inside this house, though I rarely stay here anymore. I’m usually at my own premises in the city, unless I’m here for business purposes.”

“Or parties?” I added as I distantly noted the exquisite art on the walls, the abstract sculptures that would be worth a small fortune.

He nodded. “Yeah, or for that. As a mobster family we have to be seen as a united front.”

“From my perspective you and your brothers appear to genuinely care about one another.”

He nodded, then sighed heavily and admitted, “We do. It’s never far from our minds that we’ve already lost one brother, we can’t lose another.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said softly. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.”

He grimaced. “That our brother-in-law was the killer doesn’t help matters.”

I gaped, recalling the blond-haired Salvatore who’d worshipped his wife, Isabella. His adoration towards Serafino’s sister had clearly blocked me from sensing his cold-blooded nature. “You’re serious?”

“Unfortunately, I am.” He nodded at a pair of soldiers standing in front of a large, carved door. They immediately left their post guarding Serafino’s wing of the house. He pushed the door open and stepped inside with me still in his arms. “Not that any of us blame Salvatore for what he did after our father killed his mother. Blood for blood is the mafia motto we live and die by.”

My heart did a crazy little jig at his confession. I sensed few people knew what he’d told me. Not that it really mattered. The mafia was above the law, above everyone. It didn’t mean he and his family were immune to rival families, like the Irish mafia Carlo had warned him about.

I arched a brow. “Is dismissing those guards a good idea? If a war really is imminent—“

---