Page 21 of The Boss's Temptation

Twenty-three and I’vejust been kissed. It goes without saying that I’ve never done anything else either. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t learned to please myself. My hands know exactly where to go. My fingers tease exactly how I want them to. I moan when my hand pushes between my thighs. My finger curls through my wetness. My lips part around it. I gasp when I rub it slowly over my clit.

Only now, there’s one problem. For years, I’ve had one fantasy. One man has been the main character in every fantasy I’ve ever played out. I don’t know his face. But I know his hands. I know his bulging muscles and his raspy but smooth voice.

I’ve been dreaming of my mysterious savior since the night he pulled me from the flames. At the time, I just thought of him as my hero. He killed the men trying to hurt me, and then carried me through fire. He leapt out a goddamn window with me. And then he was gone. Back then, he was my superhero.

But as I got older, he became something more. My dreams of him became less about heroics. They become more about his hands on me. In my fantasies, the flames disappeared. Or when he jumped through the window, he didn’t stop. Not until he’d carried me to a place we could be alone.

I’ve come a thousand times to my mysterious hero. He’s taken me in my fantasies every way a man can take a woman. It’s gotten to the point where bonfires sort of turn me on, like a sexual Pavlovian response.

Whenever I’ve closed my eyes and touched myself, it’s been my faceless hero who I dream is making me moan. That is, until now.

Micheal’s kiss singes my lips. The memory of his hands gripping me makes me gasp. When I close my eyes, it’s him I see. When my finger rubs my clit harder, it’s the growly mafia boss who I picture is touching me.

My legs shake, knees quivering. My head falls back, my lips parted in pleasure. My body arches and trembles. My nipples pucker and ache in the steamy bathroom. My pussy coats my fingers in my desire.

I’m getting married tomorrow. The thought should terrify me, like he should. But like Micheal, it doesn’t. Instead, it only makes me hotter. I don’t know why, but I can’t ignore it. Thinking that tomorrow I’ll legally belong to and be tied to a brutal man twice my age ishot. It shouldn’t be, I know. But I can’t help it. I don’t want to help it.

Tomorrow, I’ll be married. I’ll be his. He’ll be my husband. I know this arrangement is messed up and wrong. But I can’t stop how I feel about him. I know marriage is supposed to be love. I barely know Micheal. But I do desire him. God help me, after that kiss, he’s all I desire.

I moan. My finger rubs my clit harder. My legs shake and I gasp into the steamy bathroom. Tomorrow, I’ll be his. Tomorrow, I’ll beall his.

With a cry, my body shudders. My core clenches tight and I moan loudly. I come hard, and it’s Micheal I’m picturing every second of it.

I ride the high for what feels like an hour. I’m just buzzing. I feel tingly all over like I’ve never felt before. My legs shake as I stagger for the shower. The water is still hot, and I tremble as I stand beneath it.

Tomorrow, I’m getting married. I don’t know about love. But I do know about lust. And I know it might be awful, but I can’t help but lust after Micheal Genovese.

A lot.

9

Micheal

“You should have just called,you know.”

I sigh. “I know, honey. I didn’t want to have the conversation over the phone.” I frown. “Or I didn’t know how to. And not while you were on vacation.”

Bellamy smiles. “Well, so much for that idea.”

I chuckle. It’s true that I didn’t want to tell my daughter about getting married again over the phone. But it ended up being that way anyways when Don Salvestro bumped the wedding date to goddamntoday.

She and Vincent have just flown in from the Keys. I tried to tell them both that this was a business arrangement more than anything else. I told them they didn’t need to be here at all. Of course, neither of them listened. Just the same, I’ve made them both promise to get back to their vacation, with an extra week tacked on, afterwards.

“But I get it,” my daughter sighs. “Dad, you know you can always talk to me.”

“I do know that,” I smile and pull her into a hug. Behind her, Vincent nods at me over her shoulder.

I’m glad they’re here. After I stormed out of Katrina’s rooms last night, I ended up calling them both. I mean, it’s one thing that I’m doing this. It would be another to get married again without my daughter being here for it. Arrangement or not.

“And you know I’m not a kid anymore, right? You get that I’m fully aware of your business and what that might mean?”

I chuckle and glance at Vincent. “I figured it might have come up once or twice at home.”

Bellamy gasps dramatically. “Wait, are you telling me my husbandisn’tactually a shipping logistics coordinator?!”

I roll my eyes. “Very funny.”

“My whole life has been a lie! Wait, dad, do you…” she clutches her throat dramatically. “Do you work for the mafia?!”

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