Page 33 of Mated into the Mob

“No, nope, and no.”

“Then who?” This reminded me of a kids song, one of those never-ending ones. Or was it a beer-drinking ditty? “You have to spill or I won’t come with you.”

“Someone I met recently. We didn’t meet under the best of circumstances. This person really annoys me part of the time. I want to shake some sense into them because they have no self-preservation skills.”

Wow! He really said it. Or almost. I wanted to hear the rest. “And the other part?” My harsh breathing punctuated the stillness in the car, and my heart was thudding so loudly it sounded like the pile driver in the empty allotment next to my building.

“No matter how stinky his breath was, I’d smother his face and every nook and cranny on his body with kisses for now and always.”

My mouth opened, slowly, dropping lower until my chin touched my chest. Mixed emotions welled up inside me. If he was talking about me, what the freaking hell? He kidnapped me. But but but… his words were so heartfelt, and there was a tremor in his voice, as if he was barely containing his passion. My heart constricted.

But what if he was thinking of someone else? The green monster reared its head, and I clenched my fist and pounded it into my palm, wanting to punch the guy, whoever he was.

“Oh.”

He turned on the ignition and pulled out without looking, his security detail scrambling to catch us. I would have snarked that I’d like to be alive at the end of the trip, but his words were zinging around my head. When I finally focused on where we were headed, we were outside the city, and I guessed on the road to his place.

Unlike the first and second times I’d arrived, I noted the gate clanging shut behind us and didn’t dread what lay ahead. The security guards appeared and were swallowed by the undergrowth as we passed. The driveway, the bushes shaped like animals. I half expected it to look different, but it had only been four days.

Flint didn’t park in the garage but left the car in the front of his home. I leaped out, pleased I could unlock my own door, and he pointed to the woods at the back of the house.

“You’ll keep your promise, right?” The woods were scary.

“Absolutely.”

We walked in silence through the brush, dead leaves cracking under our feet, and our presence disturbed a flock of birds on a high branch. They flew off, their wings creating shadows on the forest floor.

Flint paused at a fallen log and invited me to sit while he stood a ways away. He unbuttoned his jacket and dropped it on the ground before addressing me.

“You saw something in me that day of the meeting.”

I nodded. I got the feeling this was going to be a magic show and I was the audience. Why we had to be in the woods was odd, but I was willing to find out.

“Long ago…” His voice trailed away, and he pursed his lips. I was enjoying the view of his narrow hips and the significant bulge at his crotch. “No, that’s not right. The people in La Luna Noir…”

“I’ve always wanted to correct the name.”

“Not now, Tony. I’ll explain later.”

That was one of his most-used words. Later.

I’d find out later. He’d tell me later. All would be revealed later.

I pressed my knees together and rested my hands in my lap. “Over to you.”

“My people are different to you.”

“I didn’t need to traipse out here for you to tell me that. You and your people,” I put the last two words in air quotes, “are mobsters, and I’m not.”

He sighed. “Okay. No more talk. I’ll show you.”

I clapped. Where was popcorn when I needed it? I should have brought the snacks from the car.

Flint toed off his shoes and yanked off his socks. Maybe the soles of his feet were hardened, but there were big owies on the forest floor. But his hands went to his belt, and I recalled horror stories where kids were beaten with a man’s belt. I wiped my clammy palms on my pants as a feeling of unease expanded in my tummy.

But if he was going to drop his pants, I’d stay where I was and not take off back to the house before getting a look at what was underneath.

Oh gods, they puddled onto the ground and he was wearing briefs, not boxers. Tight briefs that left nothing to the imagination. I swallowed hard and swallowed a second time as he removed his holster. That he treated with reverence, and he laid it carefully on the ground. Next came his shirt. Instead of undoing every button, he ripped the shirt apart, and the buttons tumbled onto the ground, probably lost forever.

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