Page 11 of Texting My Mafia Savior

Her question sends a surge of lust thundering through me. My balls ache, my shaft going stiff. My heart feels like it might break out of my chest. Obviously, she’s talking about making the best impression, but I let my imagination go wild. I imagine telling her to wear some shorts to show off her thick thighs and a floaty top without a bra to show off her curvy mounds. No makeup to show the natural, youthful beauty of her face. Keep her hair messy and wild.

Me:Smart casual. We don’t want to look like we’re making TOO much of an effort. But wear nothing that could give him a reason to make crude comments.

Arriana:Ah, okay, I was going to wear a miniskirt with fishnet stockings. I’ll pick something else, then.More laughing emojis.

She might have said it as a joke, but her comment puts the image into my mind. I imagine her rocking up in that getup. The fishnets squeezing tight onto her thighs, making her natural shape even more apparent. I stand up, go to the window, and squeeze my hands into fists. The thought of my niece is giving me a hard-on. I’m getting rock-solid. I’m salivating like an animal.

If I turned around and she was sitting on my desk, I don’t know if I’d be able to hold myself back. I’m gettingthatworked up just thinking about her.

I wait outside the Romano residence. If I go inside, I can greet her parents. I probablyshoulddo that, but I’ve never been close to my wife’s sister or brother-in-law. Plus, I don’t want to look them in the eye, considering the thoughts I’ve been having about their daughter. The sooner this mess is over, the better. I need her out of my life before I do something I’ll regret.

Arriana:Running a few minutes late.Do you want to wait inside?

Me:I’m parked down the street. I’ll wait here.

Arriana:Okay… are you as excited as I am?Eye roll emoji.

Me:I’m keen to get this finished.The last thing you need is Enzo Caruso nursing a vendetta against you.

Arriana:I’m getting really nervous.I even typed out a message telling you I was going to back out. But I can’t do that, can I? I honestly think I would if he didn’t have Lilly’s address. That’s how I’m going to think of this. I’m doing it for her. It’s the only way I’m going to get through it.

Me:It’s good to have a reason.Don’t keep me waiting too long.

Closing my eyes, I take some slow breaths. I used to do this before an enforcing job back in the day. I’d center myself, almostdisconnect, so that I could do whatever needed to be done. Now, I’m going to need that same sense of calm. Being alone in a car with Arria will be difficult, even if it shouldn’t be.

Finally, she walks down the street, wearing a black winter jacket with an earth-colored scarf. She looks smart, presentable, and, yep, beautiful. I reach over and open the door for her.

She climbs in, smiles at me briefly, then immediately looks away. I wonder if I’m imagining the awkwardness. She’s probably just nervous about what we have to do, which is understandable. I shouldn’t even notice or care beyond getting her out of this situation.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

She clasps her hands together in her lap. “Yep. Let’s just get this over with. I’m going to be the sweetest, most apologetic person you’ve ever seen. After this, I’m going to put myself up for an Oscar. My performance will be so good.”

I laugh. “That’s the spirit.”

“It’s not funny, Nico.”

“Fair enough.”

I drive, achingly aware of the scent of her perfume. She smooths her hands up and down her legs nervously. My savage brain goes into overdrive, imagining what it’d be like to move my hands up and down her legs like that. It’s wrong.I’mwrong. I can’t seem to control where my mind goes with her.

She glances at me several times during the awkward, quiet journey. It’s like there’s something she wants to say. She chews her lip—with no idea how sensual it makes her look to me.

When I pull up outside the club, she sighs. “Memories, memories…”

I park. “I wish I could say you didn’t have to do this, Arria. But it shouldn’t last long. But I need to warn you, Enzo will rub it in. He won’t make it easy. He’ll want you to snap. Push you to the limit and make you hang there.”

“I’m doing it for my friend,” she says. “Let’s go.”

We climb from the car as a light snow falls. The temptation to put my arm over her shoulder is ridiculously urgent. It’s like a siren going off in my head. It’s fucked beyond belief. I stuff my hands in my coat pockets and walk next to her. Even now, in the freshness of the outside air, I’m sure I can smell her, her shampoo, just her. I want to touch her so badly.

In the club, we go to the back office. Enzo’s men watch us as we walk across the floor. I silently pray for none of them to call me by my nicknames or reference my past life as a mobster. Arria’s parents want her kept in the dark about this life. That’s my excuse. It couldn’t be because I don’t want Arria to judgeme, right?

Enzo is waiting for us. He seems sober. I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. He tosses a dart at the dartboard, hits a bullseye, then throws another and gets close. He’s had a fresh haircut, and his eyes no longer have that wild look. Instead, they’re cold, calculating.

Finally, he turns. “Nico, Arriana, so nice of you to join me.”

“Hello, Mr. Caruso,” I say.

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