Promised to the Killer: A Dark Mafia Romance

A sick obsession.

I get out of the car. A figure stands at the end of the railing on the second floor, looking out at the trees. I step closer, my heart leaping into my throat.

It’s her. It’s Siena. I recognize her hair and her hips. She turns her chin and her mouth falls open when she sees me, and I don’t move. I stay where I am in the shadows at the end of my car, and I tilt my head to the side, staring at her.

Daring her to tell me to go.

She remains still like she’s frozen in place. A warm wind blows across my face and her hair streams sideways. She pushes some from her lips. What I would give to be that hair right now. Or better, to be close enough to move it aside as my mouth feasts on her throat and neck.

I step forward, heart racing. She still doesn’t move, only watches. Her mouth is parted and her eyes are wide. She looks scared, but not angry. I expected anger. I came back when she made it clear she didn’t want me to.

I angle toward the nearby stairwell. She watches me stride over until I disappear beneath the overhang and stand at the end of the steps. I touch the metal railing and feel the cold, pitted metal. It smells like mildew, and the concrete’s damp from a recent rain. Puddles gather in the low places, and weeds spout between the cracks in the pavement. I remain still, breathing, keeping myself under control, and listening.

Her footsteps. Light as a bird’s wings, but heavy on my heart. She comes down the stairs, one at a time, and I can barely control the tremor in my hands. Is it nerves that makes me feel like this or anticipation? What the hell do I have to be nervous about? That night flashes into my mind: Siena’s lips pulled wide as she comes.

She stands in front of me. Hair in a tangle over one shoulder, wavy and thick. Her dark eyes stare, and she’s not smiling, but she’s not frowning either. She stands on the bottom step like if she comes down a little further, she’d be committing to something she’s afraid of. I take a step forward, closing the distance. She remains where she is, watching me.

“I came back,” I say and stop when I’m only a few inches away.

“Why? After what I said, you should hate me.”

“I don’t hate you. I’m curious about you.”

“Curious?” She shakes her head. “There’s nothing you need to know about me. I’m nobody.”

“You’re somebody to me. What are you doing here, Siena? Who are you?”

“Like I said. Nobody and nothing. You should just leave.”

“I’ll come back.”

“Until what?” She chews on her lip. “There’s no endgame here. If you want a repeat of that night, it won’t ever happen. That girl’s gone.”

“No, she isn’t. She’s standing right in front of me.”

“You don’t know me at all.”

“And that’s exactly why I keep coming back.” I reach out and put my hands on her hips. She sucks in a breath. God, she’s warm and soft, and she doesn’t fight when I pull her down off that step and against my body. She puts her hands on my chest like she did that night and my pulse is driving wild through my veins.

“You’re making a mistake,” she whispers.

“You are too.”

She stares into my eyes like she’s waiting for me to leave, but there’s nowhere else for me to go.

There’s only here, right here, right now.

I lean forward and kiss her. Softly at first, but she releases a moan like she’s been keeping it pent up inside of her ever since that night. She throws herself at me, kissing wildly, and I return her passion with an intensity I didn’t know I had inside.

All my need, all my want, it spills out into that kiss. I pull her away from the steps and into the shadows of the stairwell. I push her against the wall and kiss her neck, her lips, her ear. My hands roam her body—she’s wearing jean shorts and a tank top again, and it’s easy to slip my hands up over her breasts. I unhook her bra and tease her nipples, pulling her tank top up, kissing her collarbone, licking her pointing, hard pink nubs. She moans as I bite them, pulling my hair.

“They’ll kill me if they catch us,” she whispers. “You know that, right?”

“They won’t. They wouldn’t dare.” I bite her lip and stare into her eyes. “They know who I am. They know what would happen.”

“But who you are is the problem.”

“What are you so afraid of, Siena?”

She shakes her head. Damn her. If she won’t talk, I’ll coax it from her. I kiss her lips and find her breasts with my tongue again, but this time I slide a hand down between her legs.