Page 50 of Ruthless Mafia Boss 3: Vino and Claire

I scooped her up into my arms. “Vino, what are you doing?” She giggled as her whiskey sloshed onto the floor. Claire clutched the glass and bottle like they were her best friends.

“You’ll see,” I said as I carried her upstairs. I walked through the master-bedroom, and into the bathroom.

I stood her on her feet.

“Vino, you almost spilled all of my whiskey.” She gulped the contents.

I removed the glass and bottle out of her hands and placed them on the counter.

“Hey, give them back.”

“No.” I flipped on the water in the shower.

“Will this be a shower fuck?” Claire asked.

Standing before her, I undressed. Her tongue slipped across her lower lip. She couldn’t stop her hands from roaming my bare chest. My hands gripped her ass under the little dress.

“You said you’d let me ride your tongue.”

My deep chuckle rumbled around the space.

I slipped her panties down her legs.

“Vino, can I tell you a secret?”

I helped her step out of her panties. “Yes.”

“Normally, I’m not scared of you. Earlier tonight on the side of the road,” she hiccupped. “I was. But then I felt safe in your arms.”

I blew out a breath. “Good. I always want you to feel safe.”

After I removed all our clothes, I took her hand and led her into the shower. My cock was rock hard, but I wasn’t fucking Claire tonight.

Claire dropped to her knees the second the glass door shut. Her hooded brown eyes held mine as her small hand fisted my dick. “Come on my tongue, Vino.”

I picked up one of the detachable shower heads and streamed warm water over her body.

“Vino, what the fuck are you doing?” Clair spat.

“It’s time to sober up. I told you I won’t fuck you while you’re drunk.”

She stuck out her lip. “You’re no fun.”

Claire tried rising to her feet and almost fell to the side. I caught her and helped her stand.

“I don’t want to be sober, Vino.” She placed a hand up between us.

“I asked for one night to forget about my demons,” Claire yelled.

Tears welled in her eyes, but didn’t fall.

I pulled her close. “Claire, I bought your brand of soap and hair care products. I believe they’ll make you feel better.”

A scowl took her pretty face. “You think all my fancy beauty products will make me forget the people he killed?” Her fists curled, and she slammed them against my chest.

“It won’t help. Trust me, I know.” Each time her fists hit my chest, the shower head in my hand jumped and the water wet her hair.

My jaw slacked. “Shit.”

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