Page 20 of Texting My Mafia Savior

“You can’t tell anybody. Not your mom or your dad. Not your friends. No one. You need to keep this to yourself.”

Suddenly, I snap out of my stupor and pull my hand away. “That’s why you wanted to meet in secret. In person. Because now, I’ve got no way to prove anything you’re saying. I can’t show them any of your texts. People will think I’m crazy…” Crazier than I am. I don’t add that last part. “You asked me to trust you blindly, but you didn’t want to offer me the same treatment.”

“You need to be mature about this.”

“What’s that? A dig at my age? I’m twenty-one, not a little kid.”

“I know you’re not a goddamnkid,” he snarls, with the same energy as when he clapped back at me for calling him ‘uncle.’ He doesn’t seem to like any reference to the off-limits aspects between us. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.”

“Why?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” He looks away. “You’re an innocent woman. You’re not involved in the criminal underworld. I’ve always done my best to protect civilians. Arria, what did they call me before I became known as ‘The Savior?’Nico the Nightmare. I’ve always thought both nicknames were a joke, but there’s truth in both of them. I’ve always done my best to protect people.”

“Is that all this is?”

He glares at me. For a split second, I get a preview of what he must’ve been like when he worked for the mob. Then his expression softens a little. “Just let me protect you. I’m doing my best, Arria. You say I’m not trusting you, but that’s not true. I have to be careful. If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t tell you anything. I’d let it all come as a shock. You need to promise me you’ll take precautions. You’ll be safe.”

“I will,” I say. “Not that I’m happy with any of this. I know there’s more you’re not telling me.”

That’s hypocrisy at its finest. I still don’t know what to do about the bombshell of his wife cheating on him.

“I should take you someplace you can catch a cab,” he says with a tired sigh.

“Do you think we’re being followed?”

“No, but Enzo might have somebody watching your house. I don’t think it’s likely. But like I said, if anything happened to you…”

He takes my hand, which is resting on my leg. Then he groans and moves his touch from my hand to my leg, squeezes, asizzling sensation dancing up my thigh and straight to my core. I close my legs, but not to stop him. It’s like I’m trapping the feeling. It’s so much sweeter than it was in my fantasy.

“I’m thinking of doing something I shouldn’t,” he says huskily. Is he aware his hand is sliding higher and higher up my leg?

“What?” I whisper.

“This.”

He leans in for a kiss.

CHAPTER 10

NICO

This wasn’t part of the plan. She looks so irresistible and opens her mouth. Then she let out a soul-tingling sigh, and considering that she doesn’trun the hell awaywhen I tell her who I used to be, I feel an overwhelming need her. I keep leaning closer, growing hungrier. She moans, her breath caressing my face.

“Nico,” she whispers, and somehow, she makes my name sound likestop.

“I know.”

Obviously, I don’t. I press my mouth against my niece’s lips. She doesn’t kiss me back for a moment. For a moment, I’m taking her, owning her. Then I feel the tension melt away from her. She puts her hand on my wrist andbeginstoguide me up her leg. I open my mouth, letting my tongue find hers, feeling her juicy thickness as I get closer to her haven.

My rod has never been harder. My lust has never burned brighter. I didn’t think itcouldburn this hot. As soon as it’s over, I know I’ll regret this. I didn’t bring her out here for this.But when I press my hand down between her legs, she opens her mouth and moans.

“You need to tell me to stop. Right now.” I shift my hand up and down outside the fabric of her pants. I’m sure I can feel her wetness through the material, feel her folds swollen with lust, and even her needy nub. “Tell me you want nothing to do with a barbarian like me. Tell me you’re too pure. That I’m a goddamn bastared for doing this to my niece.”

“Is that… my… responsibility?” she gasps, her hips moving in time with my touch. It's almost as if she’s doing it reflexively, like some deep need inside her is chasing pleasure.

She’s asked the perfect question. No. Of course, it’s not hers. It’s mine. I’m older. I’m married. She doesn’t know the marriage is a sham—I’m putting her in the position of being involved in an affair, betraying her aunt. But that doesn’t stop me. I move my hand faster, applying more pressure, moaning, kissing, and biting her again.

She pushes her hands against my chest. At first, I think it’s because she wants me to stop. But her muffled moans and her fingernails digging into my pecs tell a different story. She drags her nails down my chest, then grips my sides and smooths her arms around me.

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