Dumped My Ex, Married the Mafia Don novel · Chapter 14 of 32

Chapter 14: Juice Box

I heard him on the stairs a little after eleven.

He stopped at Tito's door first. He always did.

Then his footsteps came down the hall and stopped.

He saw the open door and the light, and me on the bed facing it.

He didn't come in.

He stood exactly where he'd stood the night he told me to lock it, one hand on the frame.

He'd taken off his jacket and tie. His sleeves were rolled to the elbow.

"You left it open," he said.

"I did."

"Josephine. Today was a lot."

"Today was the best day I've had in three years."

He almost smiled.

"The taper," he said.

"Finished. Eleven days ago."

"You counted."

"I'm a lawyer. I count everything."

He still didn't move.

He was waiting for the words. He'd always waited for the words.

I stood up and crossed the room and stopped in front of him, close enough to feel the heat coming off his shirt.

"You told me to lock it," I said. "You were scared of what you'd do."

"I still am."

"I'm not."

I took his hand off the doorframe and held it.

The old scars across his knuckles were white now.

"This is all me," I said. "No dose. No contract. Nobody watching."

"Say it."

"Come in, Valerio. That's me saying so."

He came in.

He closed the door behind him, and he didn't lock it.

I sat on the edge of the bed.

The door clicked shut behind him, and the sound of it went through me like a held breath finally let go.

He stayed by the door, watching me.

His eyes moved down my bare legs, then back to my face.

"Josephine."

"My name in your mouth," I said. "I've been waiting to hear it like that."

"Like what."

"Like you've been holding it back."

He didn't answer.

I stood and crossed to him.

I undid the first button of his shirt myself.

Then the next.

My fingers were steady, but my heart was punching against my ribs.

"I've thought about this," I said. "Every night since the desk."

"Tell me."

"Your hands. Where they'd go first."

"Where did they go."

"My waist." I pulled the shirt open. "Then my back. Then lower."

I pushed the shirt off his shoulders.

The tattoo climbed his neck and ran down over his shoulder, dark ink over muscle.

I put my mouth on it.

He went very still.

I kissed down to his collarbone, and his hands came up and closed over my hips.

"Show me," he said, low. "Where else."

I took his hand and put it on my ass.

He squeezed once, hard, and I made a sound I didn't choose.

"The lock's not on," I whispered against his skin. "Anyone could walk in."

"Then be quiet, counselor."

I laughed and bit his shoulder.

He hissed and pulled me flush.

His cock was hard through his trousers, pressing against my stomach.

I undid his belt.

I didn't fumble.

I'd imagined this too.

"Confident," he said.

"I've been reading your briefs for years."

That got me a quiet laugh, and then I had him in my hand.

Hot, thick, heavier than I'd expected.

He exhaled through his teeth.

I pulled his trousers down and he stepped out of them, kicked them aside.

I took his cock in my hand again and stroked him slowly, watching his face.

"Josephine."

"Say it again."

"Josephine." His voice had gone rough.

I dropped to my knees on the rug and took him in my mouth.

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