Page 39 of Secret Mafia Daddy

I groan, hiding my face under a pillow.

“Shower time for you, pretty kitten,” he tells me, and heaves me up out of the bed. I walk carefully. It’s really like I’ve downed half a bottle of wine on my own, and I can’t believe it’s just from the sex.

He keeps hold of me in the shower, and I’m glad because it feels like I may float away.

Angelo washes my hair, washes gently between my legs with a soft cloth and even when I moan and rock against him, he just kisses the crown of my head.

“You’ll be sore tomorrow,” he warns me, and I pout up at him but it doesn’t work. He washes himself and then turns off the water.

When I’m wrapped up in a big fluffy robe and back on the bed, I feel like I’m going to easily float off to sleep.

Angelo crawls in to bed naked, pulling me close to him, and we haven’t held each other like this since that first night.

I remember, now, how we’d talked all night, how he’d said the most interesting things about life and love and how it all breaks us in the end. I wonder if he still feels that way. I wonder if he’s still that man with the wild eyes and the devil’s smirk who seemed to have the softest heart when he talked about his friends.

I want to ask him, but I’m floating away on some kind of dream cloud with Angelo’s arms locked around me.

17

ANGELO

Catarina wakes slowly when I shake her hip the next morning.

“Check out is at twelve,” I say, a yawn cracking my jaw.

She rolls over into the covers, hiding her face. “No,” she says simply, and I laugh.

I run my hand along her hip lightly. “Are you sore?”

Catarina rolls over and looks at me. “Only a little,” she says, biting her lip.

“It’ll probably get worse as the day goes on. Hot bath tonight, okay?”

She looks at me curiously. “You’re used to taking care of girls after these kinds of nights, aren’t you?”

I blink at her. “Sure.”

I’m not. I’ve never done this much aftercare in my life, to be honest. Usually the girl feels a little out of it and I cuddle her until she falls asleep because I’m not a monster but when she wakes up, I kick her out or I leave, depending on where we are.

I can’t kick out Catarina, but we’re about to be kicked out of the Four Seasons if we don’t get ready soon, and even though I don’t care about that, I miss my daughter.

It’s strange, how I didn’t even know she existed and now I can’t seem to go just a few hours without her.

I pat Catarina on the butt gently and she groans dramatically and gets out of bed, stumbling a little on her feet.

I hand her the soiled dress with a sheepish grin, and she sighs.

“Those panties cost me sixty dollars, you know?” she says, gesturing to them in pieces on the floor.

“I’ll buy you a dozen more pairs,” I promise.

“You’d better,” she mumbles, and instead of going into the bathroom like usual, she just takes off her robe and slides the dress on, pulling it over her ass and hips. I watch with my mouth going dry, wishing we had more time.

I’d washed the dress in the sink last night before I went to sleep, so it isn’t that gross, and she seems agreeable enough. Maybe she’s still in subspace.

When we check out and get into the sun, Catarina squints and grabs on to me, hiding her face.

The sunlight probably does hurt those light pigmented eyes, so I take my sunglasses off my head and hand them to her.

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