Page 62 of Married to the Mafia

With a sigh that sounded like a half grunt, Mikey dislodged himself from her and tugged the strap of her thong back into place over her center. For what good it would do. His fingers were messy when he pulled his hand out, and before he could ask, Brandi grabbed his hand and pulled both digits into her mouth to lick them clean. Just because he had to answer the phone didn’t mean her mouth had to be free.

He gave her a heated look as he dug his phone out of the cushion it had fallen behind and caught the call. “What?” His tone was much too clipped to be one of his respected elder brothers. Then again, she doubted they would be calling so soon unless it was a dire emergency.

Brandi released his hand when she was done with her self-assigned project and reached to resecure her dress top, but Mikey caught her wrist and pulled her hand away. Okay… He wanted to stare at her boobs while he was on the phone. Or maybe he thought they didn’t have to stop after all?

“Forward all of it to me,” he said to whoever he was speaking to. “I’ll go through it when I get back into the office.” He set the phone on the opposite arm of the sofa, on speaker, and pulled her to her feet.

Brandi raised a brow at him silently as a male voice she didn’t recognize spoke through the phone.

“Right, of course. I just thought you would want to know right away, ‘cause there’s a number here that looks like it might still be active. It’s labeled ‘boss,’ but it’s definitely not a Jersey number, you know?”

Mikey had turned her while the other male was speaking and set about re-tying her dress for her, answering her confusion on that, but his hands stilled for a single moment at the caller’s words. “Isolate everything related to that number and prioritize getting that information to me,” he said sharply. “I want everything you can get off the system, but that takes precedence, do you understand?” He finished securing the halter, his movements staying gentle despite the harsher tone that had slipped into his voice.

Brandi gave him her best curious look when she faced him again, noting he’d tucked himself away. He pulled her into his chest as if hugging her with one arm, lifting the phone with the other.

“Yes, sir. I’ll get it to you as fast as I can,” the voice said before disconnecting.

“What was that?” Brandi asked after the phone landed on the couch again.

“That,” Mikey said, releasing a heavy breath, “was the lead you gave us. Tech team’s finally gotten into the onboard computer from Ramires’s car.” He smiled at her. The expression was a strange combination of excitement and wariness, but she recognized that it was genuine all the same. “Even if the line’s no good now, it’s the most we’ve had since his name came up last year. And that’s all thanks to you, kitten.” His hands came up to cup her cheeks and he kissed her without warning.

The kiss was different somehow. Warmer and gentler, yet in no way less sincere. Something about it brought tears to her eyes. Brandi kissed him back, trying to match his energy, and then it was over and his hands lowered to her hips.

“So, I take it we’re going back to the office, then?”

“Necessary evil,” Mikey said. He gave her a squeeze. “Go change.” His gaze darkened in a way that made her skin tingle. “But don’t you dare wash up.”

Brandi grinned, leaned up onto her toes, and pressed her lips to his ear. “Yes, sir.”

eighteen

Crash

“Before we go up,” Mikey said as the DS Security Solutions building came into sight, “there’s something I want to show you.”

Brandi arched a brow at his odd statement and shifted slightly in her seat. “As far as euphemisms go, I imagine you can do better.”

He snorted, but she saw his lips twitch in a flash of amusement. He flicked the blinker on and slid into the turn lane to wait out the oncoming traffic. “When I want you on your knees, kitten, I’ll just tell you.”

Well damn. She supposed she’d walked right into that one.

“You need to be given access for the central hub beneath the office,” he said after a beat.

She blinked, her distracted brain needing a second to catch up to his words. “The what?” Her gaze slid forward as the car turned, as if she could suddenly see through walls and layers of concrete and asphalt to see for herself what he meant. Movement in her peripheral vision, on the wrong side of the road, didn’t register when it should have.

“The baseme—fuck!” Mikey’s exclamation was nearly drowned out by a terrifying, overwhelming explosion of straining metal and snapping glass. The car was forced violently off-course by the impact of something—another vehicle—slamming into the rear driver’s side and sending them spiraling. They spun until the back end smashed into one side of the not-so-decorative gate-style fence that bordered the property lot. One of the windows finally shattered from the second impact and Brandi jerked sharply against her seatbelt.

She could barely breathe. There was no way that hadn’t been intentional and she didn’t even know how to process the idea that someone might just have made a kamikaze attempt on Mikey’s life. Right out in the open, right in front of his business, where God only knew how many people had seen. “M-Mikey,” she gasped, realizing only as she pushed his name past her lips that she definitely recognized the distinct, coppery tang of blood in her mouth.

“God-fucking-dammit,” Mikey said on a low, strained groan. His hand reached over the console and curled around hers, squeezing almost too hard. “Are you hurt?”

Brandi sucked in a deeper breath at the strength in his voice. She thought she also heard pain, but she had to admit that was understandable. At least he hadn’t stuttered, or worse, not responded. She opened her mouth to answer—to make him answer back—when her vision finally finished clearing and she processed the sight beyond the horribly cracked windshield.

Fresh fear and a sharp jolt of adrenaline shot through her. No. No, no, no. “Mikey,” she said, her voice a useless whisper and her wide eyes locked on the approaching monster. “It’s him.” She swallowed hard. “How … how the hell is he walking?”

Mikey grunted. “He won’t be after today.” He released her hand, tugged at his seatbelt, and finally sliced it off with a knife he’d pulled from a pocket.

“What are you doing?” Brandi hissed, the fear in her chest rising higher. “You can’t go out there. You’re already hurt!”

---