Page 64 of Mob Boss's Second Chance

fuck.

Shit.

Every expletive I’ve ever learned rushes through my head as the world tumbles from underneath me, plunging deep as it wounds even tighter. I pant and buckle and cling until I snap.

My body seizes, back arching, thighs trembling as the end rips through me in waves, consuming every inch of me. Ethan groans low and deep, kissing me hard as he relentlessly finds his release.

***

“Natalie?”

I’m in the bathroom, gazing at the mirror and figuring out thoughts I can’t put words to when he knocks. “Natalie, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I say hurriedly. “I’m fine. I’ll be out in a moment.”

“Okay. I’ll wait for you here.”

In the bedroom? I didn’t know what I thought was going to happen after we had sex, and I had an instant flood of uncertainty and despair.

So I scrambled off the couch and mumbled something along the lines of having a spare bathroom before running to my room. But if he’s still here, that means something, right?

Taking a deep breath for courage, I pull the door handle and step out.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asks before I can form words.

“I know it’s short notice, but I’d really like to take you out.” He pauses, then adds with a small, knowing smile, “And no, this isn’t an apology. I want to give you an evening of good food and the best ambiance possible.” His gaze softens. “I think you’ve been cooped up here for too long.”

It was supposed to be romantic, but he ruined it at the end.

I thrust my hands on my hips, feigning annoyance. “How do you know I’ve been cooped up? For your information, I’m a freelancer, which means that I work for various people, not just your cousin. He happened to be my employer at that point.”

Ethan folds his arms, giving me a knowing look. “I see. When was the last time you left your apartment?”

The night Danielle and I were at the club?

“Yesterday,” I lie. It doesn’t make sense for him to know that much about me. Then again, he’s always made me feel like he could see right through my thoughts. Except for the one time, he thought I was a spy.

“I was doing things and keeping busy. I’m sure you know a thing or two about that,” I throw in with a pinch of sass and a lip curl.

“I’m teasing,” he chuckles like he’s made the best joke ever and I shake my head. “Dinner,” he continues. “Tonight.”

I glance at the door of my tiny walk-in closet and mentally go through the types of dresses I have there. Then I turn to him. “As long as you can wait.”

He tucks his hand into his pocket and takes a step backward. “I’ll wait for as long as you want me to, Natalie Monroe.”

Then he turns and walks away, closing the door softly behind him.

As long as I want him to.

How long do I really want him to wait?

The answer is already there, buried in the short time it takes for me to pick a dress for the evening.

Chapter Twenty

Ethan

“Delivery for you, sir.”

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