Page 67 of Vows of a Mobster

“I gathered. You said Daphne was shitfaced.”

She grinned. “A little bit,” she chuckled. “I wasn’t far behind her. I had to crawl up the stairs to get to my room.”

“I know that too,” I told her. “You said you’d put me in your pants so you could get to the top.”

She shook her head, blushing. “You should have hung up right then and there,” she muttered embarrassed.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw my two men were close enough. Giving them a quick nod, they’d ensure they’d stay close to Brianna.

I stopped, and she followed suit. “But why would I hang up when the fun was just starting?” I teased her. “Besides, you put me in your pants. I wasn’t going to go anywhere.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you dare ever repeat that to anyone,” she murmured softly. “Including Marissa and Daphne. It would be horrible payback. For years to come. You have no idea what a hard time I gave Daphne when she called her ex drunk.”

“Well, I wasn’t your ex so that must be one up on her.”

“Future ex,” she chuckled.

Fuck, this woman was already putting me into the ex-bucket. What the hell?

I took her face in my hands and pulled her closer to mine. “No such thing as future ex.”

Her dark, whiskey eyes widened in surprise and her lips opened. I couldn’t resist and bent my head, placing a kiss onto her lips. She tasted like a rare alcohol, rich and smooth. Intoxicating.

She made me want things I never wanted. Her impact on me was so strong, unlike any I had ever experienced before. When I lifted my head, her eyes were closed, an attractive blush on her cheeks. And she was mine.

“Okay?” I asked her, and she watched me through heavy eyelids. There was desire in them, want and need reflecting mine, and something else. Something she was hiding.

“Okay,” she rasped.

“Now, let’s eat.”

My men already secured us a table so we went straight for it. The place was overcrowded and too loud but I wanted to give it a try for her. When she realized we wouldn’t have to wait in line, nor for an empty table, instead of being excited about it, she muttered under her breath it wasn’t right. It was clear Brianna wasn’t comfortable with such an approach but this was my world and she was in it now.

My men brought us our food, and she thanked them.

She cut up her strawberry chicken salad into small bite pieces. With each cut, I could see she was further and further away in her thoughts. I wanted to know what went on in her head, all her wishes, wants, and needs.

“You could go back to writing,” I broke the silence and her eyes snapped to me. “Or dancing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you go back to writing?” I asked her. “And it seems you like ballet dancing.” I hoped she’d tell me a bit more about herself.

She shrugged her one shoulder. “Maybe one day.”

“What was your pen name?” I inquired. Maybe it would be easier to find out one thing at the time with her.

“I’m not going to tell you,” she retorted undignified, her cheeks turning bright pink.

“It’s a secret?”

“It’s something for me to know and you to stay out of,” she replied boldly. Yes, I really liked her.

“Why don’t you write for a living?”

A deep sigh left her. “It doesn’t pay great and you are pretty much self-employed.”

“You won’t need money living under my roof.”