Page 31 of Maid For The Mafia Informant

The front of the place, the whole upper floor is a bit of a bluff. Wide, sandstone steps take us into a sunken lounge area with a balcony, pools, and a perfect view of the ocean.

Further investigation reveals more doors, solid doors that all open with our passkey, letting us inside deeper levels, with bedrooms, bathrooms, and more sumptuous living areas.

If things get tight, we can always barricade ourselves in here I reason with myself, a thought I’d never share with Sophie. Even though I can tell she’s thinking the same thing.

“What did you help Enrico with?” Sophie asks me, a coy smile playing on her lips as she hooks her hands around my waist, keeping me captive until I confess all I know.

I chuckle, almost struggling to recall.

“A car theft ring, nothing major though,” I remember.

“Nothing like the size of the one he has now?” she rebukes and we both laugh because that’s true, for sure.

“I can trust him though, he’s an honorable man. I got him out of a jam and he always said he’d help me if I ever needed it.”

Looking around, I almost feel like I owe Enrico an apology for the way I treated his man today, but even that I know he’d back me up on.

Nobody has their woman spoken to like that. Nobody.

I almost have to shudder the thought away, not wanting to spoil our moment.

“How about that lunch?” I ask her, greedily lifting her blouse and slipping my hands up inside, my mouth on her neck as I nibble at her, making her squeak with pleasure as she pretends to fend me off.

“Don’t forget Enrico’s plants,” she teases me, but I want her more than anything right now, and I push her feet apart with mine, letting a hand drift right up between her legs, making her moan so long and hard I know I’ve convinced her.

“I want you so bad Sophie,” I tell her. “Every minute of every day, now, I just want this. I want to be inside you, pleasuring you. Nonstop, can you understand that?” I ask her, feeling her tremble under me in reply as her eyes close, rolling back.

Her breath quickens into a purr of agreement as I scoop her up, debating whether to take over the couch or on a bed.

We both stop as I carry her back up the arched hallway. The sudden and loud sound of a piercing alarm coming from somewhere.

“What’s that?” Sophie asks, full of concern as we both sniff for smoke.

“I dunno, let’s find out though,” I tell her.

I keep her in my arms, tracing the sound to the kitchen which next to the lounge and balcony area has the most commanding view of the ocean.

“There,” she says, stabbing a finger at the huge, stainless double door refrigerator.

An LCD panel on one of the doors flashing, a computer built into the thing.

I’ve seen these and always thought they were a dumb, overpriced idea.

Sophie seems to know a little more than I do and taps the red bar that’s flashing.

An image of Enrico suddenly appears, making us both gasp.

“Don’t forget to water my plants, okay? And not too much,” he says, before welcoming us and waving goodbye.

Some sort of pre-recorded reminder message from his own phone, sent to his fridge?

I either gotta get out more, or maybe just leave the technology to Sophie from now on.

She remarks on how cool the fridge is.

Sold.

The first thing I know I’ll have to buy now, for our place.

The very idea sets both my mind and my heart racing.

“We’ll have to get one then!” I tell her excitedly.

“You mean it?” she asks, and it makes me happier than ever. That she’d agree so readily to the idea of ‘us’. Us needing a fridge that talks.

Thanks, Enrico, I owe you one.

“Well? Where are these plants?” she asks next, taking the edge off my hardness as she squirms to be let down. Suddenly more interested in watering than the plowing I had in mind.

I suppose there’ll be plants along with the talking fridge.

I needed a bigger place anyway.Chapter SeventeenSophieIt’s like the villa has some kind of healing effect on our mood. Once we realize again just how remote it is, how secure it is too, Ben and I relax.

I know Ben wants to spend all day in bed with me, but I also know he has work and now, we have some work of our own if we’re to earn our keep as Enrico’s guests.

A little more poking around, out past the balcony and patio, reveals more of a stepped garden. A greenhouse too. Nothing spectacular, but more like something out of an old English cottage garden. The frosted panes keeping the worst of the sea winds off what looks like delicate plants and some cacti.

Ben and I poke our heads inside, and then step in for a closer look, it’s certainly a hothouse, being a good forty degrees warmer in here than outside.

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