Page 19 of Maid For The Mafia Informant

As if it were Sophie herself.

In a dull street lamp, I can see tiny writing. Holding it closer I can see an address. And I just know it’s hers.

“I love you, Sophie,” I whisper aloud, vowing to tell her so at the nearest chance I get.

She’s beautiful, she’s smart, but most of all, she’s mine.

She will be soon enough anyway, I’ll see to that.

My heart is bursting and my spirits soaring. My mind races as I consider how clever she’s been and the risks she’s taken to help me out.

Now I just need to get to her before anyone else does.

Where to after that?

I dunno. The safe house wasn’t so safe after all, I’m thinking. If my arch enemy apart from the De Falco family was right across the hall, I know getting free of the place was the only option and I won’t go another night without Sophie by my side.

Her place is more than a long walk, so I chance a cab, getting dropped a few blocks away, and walk the rest, scoping out the obvious surveillance Partridge has on her.

Fortunately for me, it’s just as sharp as his safe house detail. One guard is thumbing porn on his phone in a car, and the other is up the street on a zoom call to what looks like family overseas.

To serve and protect.

The front door is too close to zoom by, so I opt for the derelict looking fire escape to make my way up.

She gave me the address, but not her apartment number, so the fire escape proves the best way to have a look on the way up.

It’s rusted as hell and creaks like my knees after three flights, but it holds.

Built back when steel was true and yeah, it rusted some but it’s still got fifty years in it.

The fifth floor brings the sound of running water and the familiar scent of her shampoo.

I’ll never forget the smell of her hair, and within seconds I’m watching her through a steamy window, feeling my dick grow rock hard again at the sight of her, running her bath.

Her phone rings and I remind myself I don’t have time to hang around and watch her this time, as much as I’d love to.

We gotta go, but she’s all naked and I just know somehow that’s gonna slow us both down.

The bath running cuts out the sounds of my low growls as I watch her, but I have to get inside before anyone else reaches her.

She spots my shadow and makes for her living room. The nearest window slides open easily and for the first time, I hold her as a free man.

She’s bent over looking for something and my hands go to her hips like iron filings to a magnet.

By god, but she’s beautiful. I know she’s scared, but as soon as she feels my hands, hers are on them and she gasps my name as I spin her around.

I kiss her so hard I’m worried it hurts her, but her head shakes as I do, telling me it’s just what she needs.

That, and a whole lot more as her hand strays to my aching dick, stroking it through my pants as mine explore her thick nipples under a robe as one of her legs starts to snake its way up my own.

“We have to go,” I hear myself say, kicking myself for the chance I’m missing out on here, but we really do have to get going.

Her phone chimes again, I stab my head in the negative, hissing at her to get dressed as I peel myself away from her, going back to the window only to check the street.

It’s like she just knows, I don’t have to explain anything.

As much as we both want each other right now, we also know we’ll be safer when we’re someplace else.

I scan the street behind her building, which is empty in one direction, the direction we’re headed.

I feel her against me again, and turn to hurry her up, to tell her to get dressed but she already is.

Remembering my promise, I slide one hand up the inside of her perfectly thick thighs, and the other cups her face as I kiss her, telling her what I’ve wanted to since I saw her from ten stories up.

“I love you, Sophie Moore, and I’ll make you mine yet,” I tell her, feeling us both shiver at my words.

“C’mon!” I urge her, opening up the window.

She looks puzzled.

“Uh. We could just take my car,” she says, a matter of fact.

“What sort of car, where?” I ask, not trusting a Prius to get us anywhere soon.

“Well, it’s my dad’s really,” she confesses. “Undercover, and registered to the local chief of police… a sixty-eight mustang.”

I kiss her again, she really is too much.

There are two stairwells, one on either side of the building.

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