Page 26 of He Should Be Mine
Good boy
I’d give anything to be Dario’s good boy. And not just for sex. I want to be his in everyway. I’ve craved it from the very first moment he leaped out of his car in outrage and I set eyes on the handsome bastard.
Sometimes I think the feeling might be mutual.
My snort echoes around the room.
Who would want me? I’m a nightmare. A nightmare with no gag reflex, who looks good in lingerie.
Nobody wantsme.They want my body, and why shouldn’t they? It’s by far the best thing about me. People wanting my body, is as good as I’m ever going to get.
There is no reason for Dario to be any different. He wants to fuck me, that’s for sure. But he doesn’t want anything more, why would he? He can have anyone he wants. He doesn’t need to settle for damaged goods. He’ll step out of the closet one day and settle down with a nice boy. Not someone like me. Definitely not me.
I let out a heavy sigh. Then I wriggle to the side and dangle over the edge of the bed. Pooh Bear is still safely in his hiding place. I pull the stuffed toy up and snuggle him close. He’s not the same toy I had as a kid, but he’s the closest thing I have ever been able to find. And I really need him tonight.
I curl around him and pull the covers over us. I don’t think I can go back to sleep, but I can lie here quietly and wait for morning to come.
Like agood boy.
Chapter eight
Dario
Plain blue pajamas. That’s what Molly sleeps in. Plain, pale blue pajamas. Not even cutesy ones. Or geeky Star Trek ones. Just simple, comfy looking pajamas. They’d almost be ugly if they weren’t covering Molly. He makes everything beautiful.
A splash of hot coffee lands on my hand, and I swear. That’s what I get for not concentrating on what I am doing. I’m pouring my morning cup of coffee. I have no idea why I’m thinking about Molly’s nightwear. That I saw last night.
Maybe it’s on my mind because it’s so incongruous. Molly seems the type to sleep in something small, silky and sexy. Something designed to infuriate.
Pajamas?
It doesn’t seem right. What if Riccardo turned up in the middle of the night? Didn’t Molly learn from the last time he was caught unawares? Obviously not. The boy is a nightmare.
A nightmare who, when all alone with no one to impress, chooses comfort. I feel as if I have been granted a glimpse of the real Molly. The boy behind the act.
I sigh and sip my coffee. My bleary vision takes in the view from the huge windows. London is gray and cloudy today. Summer is no guarantee of good weather in this godforsaken city. I have no idea why I have grown so fond of this place. But I have. I never chose to come here, I was ordered to. Now it has snuck under my skin and taken up residence in my soul. If I have the choice, I don’t think I will ever leave.
Seems I have a habit for falling for things I shouldn’t. Things that on paper are a terrible fit.
I should like sunny villages by the sea.
And uncomplicated women.
The coffee burns my throat as I take far too big of a gulp. Hopefully, the pain and the caffeine will clear my mind.
Suddenly, my phone buzzes against the kitchen counter. I glance at the notification that pops up on the screen.
‘Signor Ajello requests your presence at his London residence, at your earliest convenience.’
Fuck.
I snatch up my phone and read it again. Just to make sure I’m not seeing things. Sadly, I’m not.
There is only one Signor Ajello, and it’s not Riccardo. It’s the Don.
Why does he want to see me? Why right now? Because, ‘at your earliest convenience’ really means ‘you should have fucking been here five minutes ago.’
I’m supposed to be guarding Molly. Should I reply and say I’m on a job for Riccardo? No, the Don must already know that.
