Page 85 of Heartless Mafia Prince 2: Rocco & Ryah

“Dad can be a little overprotective. Do you think you’d behave differently if you were a dad?”

Balancing my plate on my thigh, I gripped the back of her neck, staring into her eyes. “Hard to say. I know I’d do all I could to keep our children safe. Give them the best life. Show them love all the time like my parents do with me and my sister.” I released her neck.

Ryah kissed my cheek. “I know you would, Rocco. I love that despite the kind of world we were raised in, your parents showed you love.”

I bit into my pulled pork sandwich.

“When my dad and I were alone after the plane crash, he hugged me so tight. He was shaken up. He hid it well during the meeting. At that moment, I swear he held me like he did when I was seven. With such love and compassion.” I squinted, staring at the players running down the field.

What would I do in life if I weren’t a mobster? Go to the NFL.

I didn’t dare voice that dream to anyone. Yet.

“Rocco, Rocco, where are you?”

I peeked at her. “Huh?”

“You zoned out.” She removed my plate, sitting it on the ledge. “Are you ok?” Her natural youthful glow was breathtaking. I slid my thumb across her lower pouty lip and marveled at her button nose and high cheekbones. Her face was shaped like an apple. I loved kissing that tiny box chin all the time.

Ryah stared back, all smiles.

Her long lashes were so long they looked artificial, but they weren’t. Those emerald stones stared into my soul. Her love for me was evident. I fucking loved that I could marvel at her beautiful face and see how deeply she loved me. Every man on earth wished they’d have a love like this. I leaned in, devouring her lips.

Ryah pushed her lips hard into mine. So hard it hurt in the best fucking way. “I love you, Ryah.”

“I love you, too, Rocco Leonardo Andrisani.”

My lips lifted at one end. “What do you want to do later?”

“Sit near the fire pit under a blanket drinking a little, Jack,” Ryah laughed.

I nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

My eyes widened as I shot to my feet. “You got it!” I shouted.

Number forty-seven slipped through several players, running down the side of the field.

“No one can catch him,” Art yelled.

“Touchdown,” we roared, the second his foot touched the end zone.

After fucking Ryah two times on the shower floor, we sat by the firepit.

Resting her elbow on my shoulder, she brought the glass to her lips and sipped the Jack Daniels. Ryah’s other hand disappeared under my shirt.

“I love being here with you. We’re free to do what we want when we want. As much as we want.” Ryah wiggled her eyebrows.

I laughed. “You can have it whenever you want.”

She sipped her drink again before leaning her head on my shoulder. “I wish we could make this an annual trip.”

“We can.”

Ryah sighed. “We can’t. Routine isn’t something we can often partake in. We can’t leave for class at the same time every day or go to the cafeteria and have breakfast at eight in the morning. High school was different. The school was basically on lock down all the time. The only people who could’ve posed a threat were maybe faculty members who were bought. Or disgruntled students.”

“We took care of those.”

She chuckled lightly. “We did. The point I’m making is we’ll always have to look over our shoulders anticipating danger.”

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