Page 13 of The Mobster's Angel

I have the overwhelming urge to follow them. Even if it’s not forever. I know it can’t be forever—that’s not real life. But I could follow them tonight and see where they take me.

That wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?

“I want you to stay.”

That one sentence seems to heighten everything. The weight in my stomach. The smolder in his gaze. The air in the space between us.

Jack stares at me for a few long seconds and then stands.

He’s leaving? He doesn’t want to stay?

My heart starts beating rapidly.

Then his fingers move to his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt.

He’s not leaving. That thought should calm me. Slow my heart to bearable levels.

But it doesn’t.

He slides his shirt off to reveal a broad chest, cut with muscles. The man works out. All I want to do is run my hands over him. I’ve never known what a man feels like. Is he as hard as he looks?

His voice cuts through my thoughts like a knife through butter. “Your turn,” he says, nodding toward me.

I shift on the bed. I’m wearing a set of pajamas I found in one of the drawers Rosa showed me. There were at least twenty sets, all my size, all various shades of pink or white, and ranging from cozy fleece to things that were definitely indecent. I went for a middle-of-the-road shorts and cami combination.

The butterflies in my stomach start flapping their wings rapidly, and my cheeks get hot.

“I’ve never… No one has ever seen me naked.”

Jack smiles, his hard stomach flexing as he lets out a laugh. “That’s not entirely true, is it?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

He shakes his head. “Damn. I always thought you knew exactly what you were doing when you swam naked.”

Oh. My. God.

My mouth drops open.

Jack must notice my shock because he quickly sits down on the bed, his hands on my shoulders. “Hey, it’s all right, little angel. You were perfect. The most perfect.”

I glance up at his face, not quite sure if I should believe him. He looks sincere enough, but I’m still kicking myself. And cringing. I genuinely didn’t even consider that he could have seen me. Now it seems so obvious—the back of his house overlooks the pool.

So, well, he’s seen it all before, hasn’t he?

Giving him a weak smile, my arms cross and my fingers tuck under the hem of my camisole.

Jack moves in, taking my hands and holding them still with a shake of his head.

I watch him intently, wondering what he’s doing. He just told me to take it off?

Maybe he’s changed his mind?

I don’t have the opportunity to wonder as he zones in on my neck. His mouth is gentle, but his hands are firm, pushing me back down onto the thick layer of feathered pillows.

He sucks the spot right below my ear and I look to the side, giving him more access, while a moan escapes from my lips.

The more his mouth works on me, the more I have the urge to be free of my clothes. Perhaps that was what he intended all along?

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