Page 3 of The Gangster's Girl

It’s unfair of me to expect India to step up to the task but every day without her, I unravel just a little bit more. I need her to keep staying in control, to stay sane. I need her to keep my world from crumbling.

I have built up a good life, one that would be worthy of her but if I don’t get to have India, it’ll be like living in ruins. Bleak, desolate and dark. It is not something I wish for myself. Question is, will India care?

She has her own life, she’s got her parents, she’s got her chess career and I couldn’t be more proud but she might not want me to interfere with it. She could turn me away and my fists clench at the thought, a sneer twisting my features and I take a deep breath.

Stretching my neck from side to side, I feel it crack when I hear a car drive up to my courtyard. They’re here. Moving over to the window, I watch Ronnie and Robbie stumble out of the car, high on love as usual but my gaze doesn’t stay on them for long.

Instead it goes to India and I openly stare, my eyes licking every part of her, from the messy, ash blonde hair to the cornflower eyes and that insanely arousing body of hers. It makes me want to lap her up, like wolf laps a fresh stream of water when thirsty.

Her sixth sense must tell her I’m ogling her because she stops in her tracks, her mouth opening and she licks it, making me let out a curse under my breath. Why the hell does she have to be so tempting? And why does she have to be my best friend’s daughter?

A smile pulls around her lips and it makes my heart twist because every single one of her smiles is fresh. It’s never the same, never like the one before it as if she custom makes them for me. She lifts her hand and waves. I smile at her and my adrenaline pumps at the thought of what’s going to happen tonight.

“Clayman, are you gonna let us stand here until New Year’s or what?” I hear Robbie screech. Ronnie sniggers and I’m forced to break my contact with India. Brushing potential dust off my suit and straightening my collar, I walk down to the foyer and open the door.

My vision goes blurry when Robbie throws his arm around my neck, hugging me while Ronnie squeezes my arm and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

“Long time no see, stranger,” she purrs and Robbie hums in agreement, looking around my house even though he’s been here a ton of times before. But I get it, compared to their trailer, this house must look like a castle to them and Robbie lets out a low whistle, before grabbing his crotch.

“Fuck, this place gives me a hard on,” he declares to nobody special and I’m tempted to say,

And your daughter gives me one.

The afternoon sun shines behind her, making her look like the sweetest scoops of vanilla ice cream and she crosses the shiny, checked floor over to me, her hips softly swaying from side to side.

“Hi, Uncle Clay,” she says in her throaty voice, wrapping herself around me and I tense at the feel of her. Her breasts brush my chest, her hand cupping my neck and the only thing not touching are our hips. “I’ve missed you.”

Allowing myself to put my arms around her waist, I inhale that honeysuckle scent that’s characteristic to her. A couple of months ago, I even ordered the gardener to plant those flowers everywhere just to remind myself of her. She loves them, once telling me that honeysuckle blooms even in winter.

But she’s too close like this, her body pressed too tightly against mine and if she doesn’t move soon, she’ll feel...

I freeze when she lets out a whispery gasp, right in my ear and I know she felt me. Felt my desire for her and it must confuse her, because she goes soft in my arms. Taking a step back, I hold her at an arm’s length, watching her carefully and expecting panic to flare in her eyes.

Instead she just seems confused, but her eyes are hooded when she places a kiss on my cheek, just like her mom did. “It’s good to see you,” she murmurs, leaving behind traces of her sticky gloss.

“Good to see you too,” I answer, reluctantly letting her go and my eyes lower, watching her clothing with disapproval. Denim shorts about as big as a post stamp and a red tube top. Inwardly I shake my head, knowing that when I make her mine, she won’t be walking around dressed like that anymore.

In my house there are proper rules.

Robbie and Ronnie have never given her boundaries, other than no boys but besides that they let her do whatever she wanted. When she was younger, she’d frequently show up at my place with twigs in her hair and chocolate stains on her clothes.

It’s a miracle India didn’t turn into a full on savage with those parents and I rub my jaw, gesturing toward the living room.

“Shall we?” I ask and all three of them nod. “What are you having?”

“Beer,” Ronnie and Robbie answer in chorus, popping down on my couch and entangling their limbs.

“I’ll have some whiskey with a drop of water, please,” India says and her parents don’t even bat an eye. Throwing her a scolding look I reply,

“You’re nineteen.”

In response, she shrugs, angering me. “I’m old enough to drive, I should be old enough to drink.” My eyes go to her body. She’s old enough for other things as well. Still...too young for alcohol.

“Not in my house,” I say and her eyes shine a little in defiance but she doesn’t protest. Robbie and Ronnie on the other hand do.

“Come on, Clay. Don’t be a bore,” Robbie says and Ronnie nods, sipping on her beer. “Let the girl live a little.”

“Yeah, why can’t you be the fun uncle?”

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