Page 32 of Empire of Seduction (New York State of Mafia #2)

A bang sounded on the door. We looked over and Maz was outside, white chef coat on, his tattooed arms loaded with covered plates. I let him in and took two of the covered dishes from him.

“Grazie, fratello,” he said and moved toward the island. “I was always a shit waiter.”

After he deposited the rest of his plates, he went over to Maggie. “Ciao, mia cara cognata.” He kissed both her cheeks and I sent up a prayer that she didn’t ask?—

“What does that word mean?” she asked. “Roommate?”

“Sister-in-law,” my brother said, waggling his eyebrows.

She laughed, waving it off. “Yeah, right. He’s counting the days until he’s out of here. And check out his face—he looks like he sucked on a lemon.” To me, she spoke like she was addressing a toddler. “Don’t worry, Vito. No one is getting ideas about commitment.”

I felt my irritation rise with both of them. “Get out, Massimo.”

He chuckled and winked at Maggie. “If you get tired of him, the bong is still in the kitchen. Feel free to help yourself.” Then he gave me an evil grin—which quickly disappeared. “Your sweater is stained. Che cazzo! You sure you’re okay?”

I glanced down. Sure enough, there were tiny blood droplets on my gray sweater. Fuck! How had that happened? I’d taken it off before I started working on that biker.

“I’ll be back,” I muttered, then took the stairs two at a time. In a flash I tore off the sweater and changed my t-shirt, as well. All of it needed to be burned later.

When I returned downstairs, Maz and Maggie were uncovering the food, chatting amiably. Easy-going and kind, Massimo was a better match for her. I wasn’t the “fun” D’Agostino brother by any stretch and everyone liked him more than they liked me.

Rationally, I knew this. But I wasn’t feeling rational when it came to Maggie. She was mine. And I didn’t care for Maz’s flirting with her all the time.

“Who likes meatball subs?” my brother asked me. “This is a tragedy on a plate.”

Maggie shoved his shoulder. “Hey, don’t insult meatball subs. They slap. And I’m very grateful you thought to make them for us.”

“You have Vito to thank. It was his idea, not mine.”

She blinked several times at me, like the words didn’t make sense to her. “This was your idea?”

I didn’t want to answer any questions, especially in front of my brother. I was ready to be alone with her.

“Out, fratello.” I gestured toward the door. “I’ll take care of her from here.”

Maggie

Maz’s food was delicious. First up was the best meatball sub I’d ever put in my mouth, with plenty of cheese and a homemade roll, followed by the most amazing tiramisu for dessert.

I stuffed myself, ignoring Vito’s complaints about the sandwich, which he declared “disgusting.” He only ate half, so I stole the rest of his sub and ate that as well.

Afterwards, I felt so much better. Partly because of the cry and nap routine, but also because of the food. I’d been starving.

We didn’t talk much during the meal. Vito was quiet and I didn’t try very hard. It was for the best, because I didn’t want to explain why I disappeared today . . . and Vito never wanted to explain anything. So, there you have it.

When we were done, he cleaned up our plates, rinsed them, and put them in the dishwasher.

I watched the muscles in his back shift as he moved, the width of his shoulders, and I grew warm all over.

There was something so domestic about it, so normal, and I longed for more moments like this.

Like how he’d fixed me a cappuccino this morning.

My lonely heart soaked in his thoughtfulness and consideration like a dry root in a spring rain.

No one had looked after me like that in a very long time.

But this wasn’t forever—and he wouldn’t let me forget that.

“I’ll warm the jacuzzi,” he said, moving to the door. “Then we’ll shower.” After he came back in, he motioned with his hands. “Andiamo. Upstairs.”

It was a quick shower, almost business-like.

He did kiss me against the tile, his tongue deep in my mouth, his cock hard on my belly, but he didn’t take it further.

We washed and rinsed, then stepped out. He wrapped a towel around his waist, then held up a big towel for me.

I stepped closer and he brought the soft fabric around my body, securing it over my breasts.

Then he took my hand and led me downstairs and through the kitchen.

“Do we need suits?” I asked.

“No.”

He opened the door and the cold air felt like tiny needles on my bare skin as I hurried toward the jacuzzi.

In a flash, I dropped my towel and slipped into the heated water.

There were soft lights on the edges, jets bubbling to cradle me in the delicious warmth as I settled into the molded seat.

I resisted the urge to close my eyes—and I was glad I hadn’t when Vito dropped his towel and climbed into the jacuzzi.

Holy shit, this man. Muscles popped and tendons stretched over lean bone.

His body was strong and fit. I’d wanted him from the first moment I spotted him in that casino bar, so handsome and distracted as he worked, and nothing had changed since.

I still wanted him, despite everything I knew and everything he’d done.

Maybe that made me stupid or a slut or a bad person.

I didn’t know. But I decided in the cave today that I had to stop overthinking it and beating myself up for sleeping with him.

This wouldn’t lead to anything. He was my boss—not to mention a boss —and he lived in another country.

Like every other guy I’d been with before, I just needed to enjoy it for what it was: temporary great sex.

“You’re so fucking hot,” I told him as I sank down to my chin.

“Yeah?” He lowered himself into the water and then came toward me, a smirk on his face. I felt his big hands slide up my legs. “Come here.”

He traded places with me, his back against the spa with me cradled in his lap. Sighing, he held me tight to his chest and rested his head back. “Va bene. I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

“You have?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I thought you’d be mad at me. You know, because I told you to fuck off.”

“I was very mad. But I also understand why you did. I don’t like it and I can’t change the reason for it, but I understand.”

“You do?”

His palm swept along my spine, the soothing touch and swirling water causing me to sag into him. “I have an older brother who snaps and snarls when he doesn’t understand something. It’s a coping mechanism. His anxiety and uncertainty cause him to lash out at others. You are much the same way.”

A knot pulled in my chest, a ball of hurt I hadn’t expected. “Wow, you make me sound so appealing.”

I tried to shift away, but his grip held me in place. “Bella, we all have ways we process information, how we handle stress. Do you think your attitude and snarls bother me?”

“I don’t know. Do they?”

“No, they get my dick fucking hard. Now, tell me why you ran off today.”

No way was I confessing my deepest, darkest insecurities to this man. I needed to go on offense. “How do you process information and handle stress?”

“I think. I get quiet and go into my own head.”

Now his attitude after Maz left made more sense. “Is that why you were quiet during dinner? What did your brother say that bothered you?”

“I don’t like him flirting with you. I was jealous.”

I hadn’t expected a straight answer. I’d expected a deflection or a question, like usual. My mouth fell open slightly. “That’s ridiculous. I would never . . . ” A strangled noise left my throat. “You think I’d just hop from one brother to another?”

“No, of course not. But I can’t explain it. You’re?—”

He clamped his lips shut and stared off into the distance.

“I’m, what?”

Just when I thought he wasn’t going to answer, he shifted me to straddle him, positioning my legs on either side of his hips. Bubbles brushed over my bare skin like a caress, especially between my legs. Big hands cupped my ass as he settled me on his stomach.

He brought our foreheads together. “You’re mine ,” he said quietly, the steel in his voice unmistakable. “I want to tie you to my bed, keep you naked and waiting for me.”

The declaration sent blood rushing to my clit. I didn’t know why, but his possessiveness caused my arousal to spike every time. My orgasm earlier today in the kitchen, when he told me to say I belonged to him? Off the fucking charts.

This isn’t real . I couldn’t forget it.

I dragged my nails through his scalp and his eyelids fluttered closed. I liked seeing how much I affected him. “Did you smell me all day today?”

The edge of his mouth kicked up, though his eyes remained shut. “For a long time. It reminded me of how sweet you were this morning.”

I nibbled his jaw, enjoying the rough feel of his late-day whiskers against every brush of my lips. “You’re very good at giving head.”

“I can’t get enough of your pussy. You drive me crazy, diavoletta mia.”

“Back at you, bello.” I rubbed my cold nose against his, our lips almost touching.

Steam from the water and the soft lights enveloped us, his hot breath warming my cheek.

It felt like our own tiny slice of heaven, and everything about him, about the moment, turned me on.

Anticipation began humming like an electric charge under my skin, every cell straining, buzzing, to get closer to him.

Maybe I wasn’t too exhausted and sore after all.