Page 19 of Reckless Boss

“Until he’s old enough not to need anyone, or I kill you,” I answer her stupid question. “I think it’s fair, don’t you?” I see her eyes about to water with tears, and she is thinking about her own life, her family. I am going to kill them all so she might as well start missing them. Lucia nods, swallowing her words. Raul has her finger in his hand, it spikes my jealousy. Though I am not sure if I am jealous of him touching her, or her having already connected to the boy when I can’t seem to. “A family for a family,” I say putting my knife and fork down.

“I will care for him,” she says, and his face lights up at the sound of her voice, “and you,” she continues, turning to look at me. Her eyes are red, and she takes a sip of wine, before she says more. “I will look after you both, it’s only fair. My family hurt yours, and I will pay the debt owed.” She understands the mafia is a flesh trade, lives are exchanged for lives. No sin goes unpunished, and they all knew there would be a consequence. “I am just glad you have decided not to kill me.” She knows I have no need for money, keeping her alive was pointless until I had this epiphany. I could blame the wine, but mostly I think I am just thinking with my dick.

When she says she would care for me, the images flashing through my head were of her caring for me in way she took care of herself when we chatted online. Visions of her in my bed, swirl around my wine filled head. Taking my full glass with me, I quickly excuse myself from the table before I do anything even more stupid than what I just did.

I slam the office door closed behind me and stand there trying to calm my heavy breathing and racing heart. What have I done? I should have shot her the minute she got off that boat. Keeping her alive has sent me off a cliff into madness. I pace up and down the length of the room, trying to convince myself this is not a terrible idea. I’m not winning the fight with my own demons. I look at the camera feed from inside the house and see her playing with Raul, he smiles at her, and she wipes the tears off her cheeks and laughs with him.

“He needs her,” I say to myself, trying to back up my choice to keep her. It’s for the baby, I tell myself. But it’s for me too. I have no idea what has gotten into me, but I want her. She is mine, no one can take her. She is in my debt, and I like that fact. No, Ilovethe idea that Lucia belongs me. Watching her has become an unhealthy obsession, and with it my desire for her has grown into a monster I am barely able to restrain.

I sit down in my leather chair, and sip my wine slowly now, savoring the taste while she puts the baby to bed. Once he is asleep Lucia goes to her room, and undresses right there where I can see her. Naked, exposed, as if she is putting on a show only for me. When she pulls her hair up into a high ponytail and exposes the curve of her shoulder and her delicate neck, I moan out loud.

I would love to hear her scream my name with my hand wrapped around that neck, Lucia is like the apple was to Adam. Forbidden, but there is no resisting the temptation. Eventually I will snap and take her. I can feel it coming, it’s in the strain of my cock against my pants. In the thundering of my pulse, and it’s seeped into my mind, and nothing will get it out.

Island fever? Lucia has me bewitched. Like a stalker, I watch her showering. She lathers her body with soap, touching herself and I wish it were my hands gliding over her breasts. Slipping around her waist and taking a handful of her peach perfect ass. It begs to be smacked, grabbed, and held — I have got to get a grip on myself—Or her ass. I’ve gone completely crazy, stark raving fucking mad.

My dick is so hard it hurts, if I don’t do something I am going to bust the zipper on my expensive pants. Opening my fly, my cock is free and stiff — so fucking stiff for her. Flashes of her praying come back to me, her on her knees. Then I see her in shower now, she’s using the shower head to rinse the soap off her body but stops and bites that fucking lip. She gets a devious smile on her face just before she takes the same shower head and uses to pleasure herself.

Her head falls back, and she uses one hand to brace herself against the wall. I grip my raging hard-on and growl out loud. Lucia uses the jet of hot water to get herself off, bucking against it. Her hips thrusting back and forth, I can see her body tensing up as she gets closer. I fuck my fist, the way she grinds against the water spray. Keeping time, holding back wanting to watch her lose herself and come.

It starts with one jerky movement she can’t control, then she lets herself go. I am sure if I there was sound, I’d hear her moans — her mouth open and her body jerking and rubbing against the shower head. Jesus, she is a work of art. My hand pumps up and down, imagining how tight her pussy would be contracting around me as she orgasms.I am going to hell. “Fuck,” I grunt out as I lose it, spurting come all over the desk and my pants. I don’t care about the mess — the relief is pure fucking bliss. The thought of fucking her alone gives an orgasm I can feel in my whole body. It doesn’t stop, all that I have held back I let go and shut my eyes as I empty every last bit of pent-up sperm I have. “Jesus, fucking, Christ,” I mutter when I do eventually remember to come back down to earth and open my eyes. Lucia is still straddling the shower head. Drawing out her pleasure as long as she can, riding the wave as long it will go.

I want her to be riding me. Instead, I wipe up my mess with one of the baby wipes left in here and pull my pants up. Watching her as she dries off, pulls on a baggy t-shirt before she checks on Raul. Seeing him asleep, she climbs into the small bed in his room. Looking innocent, like she didn’t just put on the raunchiest fucking show for me — how can she just sleep? My head is playing reels of her naked body on replay, and my thoughts are running away with me.

I lock the office door, and then lock myself in my bedroom. Hopefully it will stop me doing anything I will regret.

CHAPTER13

LUCIA

After days of terrible weather, fighting storms and nothing but rain we have woken up to sunshine this morning. Salvatore has been scarce since our dinner together when he told me I had a choice between caring for his nephew or dying — as if there was a choice. I don’t want to die, and I love the little boy already. It was an easy answer for me, but somehow it seems to be making him edgy that I said yes.

Did he really think I was going to say no, rather just kill me? I am not crazy. As long as I am alive my family will be looking for me. They’ll find me and save me from him. I know my father won’t abandon me, no matter how angry he is, he loves me. This is just a survival tactic, a way to keep myself from being killed before he can get here. Babysitting isn’t exactly torture, I’ve done it since I was eleven.

The sunny skies make me want to get out of the house we’ve been cooped up in for God only knows how many days. I lost track. Our supplies arrived during the night — I wasn’t allowed to go outside while Sal was busy at the dock. The door to the house was guarded the entire time, as if he was afraid of them getting in as much as he was of me trying to escape.

I am thankful for the stocked pantry, and the right baby formula. It will make life slightly easier for us all, and now it’s not raining cats and dogs, I can explore the gardens and what we have on the island. Raul is fussing, and maybe some time outside is what we both need.

I knock on the office door because Sal hasn’t been seen all morning. “What?” he bellows back and I open the door a crack.

“Is it okay if I take Raul outside? I think he’s fed up being inside for so long. I thought I would take him down to the beach.”

He looks up over the screen in front of him, not responding right away.

“That’s fine. Wait a few minutes and I will join you two.”

I hadn’t invited him to join us, but I have no idea how to respond to that, so I just stammer out, “Okay, I will pack lunch to take with us.” And then hurry to the kitchen to pack a few snacks and make sandwiches. I snag a bottle of wine from the wet bar, and two glasses. Raul’s bag is packed, and I dig through the linen closet to find a blanket we can sit on. He might not like the sand — some babies hate it. Salvatore finds us in the kitchen where I am busy putting sunscreen on the little one. They have delicate skin, and I don’t want him to burn. It’s humid after all the rain and the warm sun is heavenly as we walk from the house down the pathway to the beach.

The two sides of the island are completely opposite. The house is built on rocky cliffs where rough seas pound the shore relentlessly. On this side there’s shallow waters, white sands and the waves break miles away leaving us with clear turquoise waters to splash in. I don’t have a whole heap of clothes with me, and I didn’t see a swimsuit. I pulled on a dark blue t-shirtdress, so if I get wet, who cares. I am just happy to be outside.

Sal has swapped his usual uptight smart clothing for a pair of shorts and a V-neck t-shirt. He looks relaxed, and even has a smile on his face today — an unusual occurrence. He holds the baby while I set up a spot for us under the dappled shade of a tree high up on the shore away from the high-water mark.

The soft sand is hot under my bare feet, and the sound of the small waves bubble behind me. It’s like this place has a split personality, the raging weather we had and now this complete bliss. I spread out the blanket and put the basket and baby bag in the shade. Sal sits down with Raul, who is trying so hard to sit on his own but is just not quite there yet.

“It’s beautiful here, when the sun is out,” I say, joining them on the ground. “So different to the last few days.” I stretch my legs out into the sun and pull up the hem of my dress so I can catch a tan but not funny one.

“The island has multiple personalities,” Sal says, and before I can stop myself, I answer with, “just like it’s owner then.”

His smile turns to a scowl, and he shakes his head.

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