Page 167 of The Enforcer
Women didn’t ask questions, not in this life when knowing was dangerous for everyone. The organization was sexist, there was no arguing it, but this wasn’t about that. It was about protection and making sure the government would never have a reason to use Brianna against him.
It was about keeping what they had together safe.
No matter what.
“Enforcers don’t have wives,” Tino reminded her. “They havecomares. Is that what you want?”
She couldn’t look at him for so many reasons. She didn’t want to wince, knowing his mother had been a comare—a mafia mistress—but Brianna grew up around too many Cosa Nostra kids not to feel the sting. It sounded like such a foul word to her. It brought to mind desperate women who would do absolutely anything to please their sponsors. The dirty women bad-mouthed by all those mafia brats who were angry on their mothers’ behalf, because every wiseguy had one. Yet she knew most of the boys from her graduating class were already guilty of the same sin, even while they dated the good girls from the right families.
Half the time their fathers pointed them in the right direction. It wasn’t just accepted; it was expected. They would never treat their wives like that, so they had girlfriends to fuck dirty, and they started young.
She didn’t want to be that woman, but she would.
For Tino, she would, and the confession must have shown when she looked back to him.
“Diavolo,” Tino cursed, and she could actually see the desire and horror war with themselves on his face. He shook his head slowly, glancing once more to the V of her nightgown. “No.”
“Yes.” Brianna pushed at one strap of her nightgown, simply because he couldn’t seem to look away. She wanted to be equal with him, naked and exposed, so she pushed at the other strap and admitted, “I’d be a comare for you,” as her nightgown fell to the floor.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Tino whispered even as he got on his knees.
He leaned against the couch and slid his hands to her bare back. Then he bent down and sucked one pebble-hard pink nipple into his mouth. She cried out, partly out of shock, mostly from the adrenaline shot of lust.
Tino slammed a hand over her mouth, silencing her as he moved over to her other nipple. His teeth were rough, on the edge of painful as he bit her out of anger, but she held him to her anyway, her fingers tightening in his hair for fear he’d slip out of her grasp like he had so many times before. She didn’t care if it hurt, but Tino laved his tongue over it anyway like he couldn’t help soothing her.
“You wanna be a comare to a whore.” He lifted his head and glared at her as he said it, daring her to argue. “That’s what you want for yourself, Brianna?”
She hated hearing him call himself that. She wanted to argue, but she didn’t. Hiding from his reality and trying to make it prettier would insult everything he’d suffered through.
For a long time, women had paid to fuck Tino.
That was a reality.
Just like it was a reality that she could never be his wife.
If she wanted him, openly, that was exactly what she would be. A comare to a known whore. Brianna wasn’t born Cosa Nostra, but she had her pick of legitimate mafiosi. A lot of boys in their class had tried. Even if she wasn’t Italian, she was still a prime candidate with powerful connections in the Moretti Borgata and a proven track record of looking the other way when war broke out. She could be a wife, but if it got out she was fucking Tino, her name would be ruined forever.
“Yes, that’s what I want.” She didn’t even hesitate. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
She’d rather be a comare for a whore she loved than a wife for a man she didn’t.
Tino looked furious, his dark eyes narrowed in disbelief, and she honestly had no idea what to expect. The situation was so tense she jumped when he crawled over the couch.
“Be careful what you wish for. I haven’t touched a woman in two years. My restraint is a little thin right now.” He grabbed her arm, forcing her to look at him as he warned, “You keep asking for it, I’m gonna give it to you.”
Brianna couldn’t hide how shocked she was.
She didn’t like to think about it, but she’d assumed there had been other women since the fallout with the Savios two years ago. Made men had comares. That was just how it worked, and even if he didn’t want her to know about it, Brianna knew Tino and Nova were made early last year.
They were young for the distinction, but none of the rules applied to the Moretti brothers.
She was so lost in thought she didn’t answer him, and Tino had never been patient. “Fine,” he decided for both of them and used his hold on her arm to pull her toward the bedroom.
* * * *
Tino didn’t intend to fuck her tonight.
He could. Technically once didn’t count. It could be written off as drunken bad judgment on Brianna’s part, but he still wasn’t taking the risk with her reputation.
