Underboss (With Me in Seattle Mafia 1)

“Caveman,” she whispers, but I can tell the anger has left her, replaced by pure, unadulterated lust.

I make quick work of her bikini bottoms and my shorts, and with her hands still pinned over her head, I boost her up and slip right inside of her.

“This is what happens when you defy me, Nadia. You piss me off and make me want to claim what’s mine.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Look at me.”

With her blue eyes on fire and pinned to mine, I work her hard, making her come fast. With the second orgasm, I follow her over and lean my forehead against her shoulder as I release her hands, and she wraps her arms around my neck.

I can’t breathe.

And I can’t let her go.

“Jesus, you do shit to me,” I mutter.

“Same.” She swallows hard and looks at me as I pull my face back. “It really bothered you, I guess.”

“I wasn’t playing.”

Her mouth quirks into a grin. “I can see that. Fine, I’ll wear the suit. But I could say the same.”

“I’d look awful in a bikini top.”

She smirks. “Do you think I didn’t see the waitress flirting with you when she delivered your drinks? Or how the other women watch you when you walk across the pool area, wearing nothing but your shorts?”

“And how do they look at me?”

“Like they want to eat you alive. And I can’t blame them.” Her hands glide down my chest. “You’re a sexy man, Carmine. You have muscles for days. Combine that with this smooth olive skin and that sexy face of yours, and well, you turn heads.”

“Thanks for feeding my ego.”

“I’m not. It’s just how it is. But I don’t wrap you in a towel and pull you out of there.”

“I didn’t like it,” I repeat. “And I won’t apologize for it. If you want me to wear a T-shirt at the pool, I’ll do that.”

“Well, that makes me just sound dumb.”

“No.” I grin and kiss her chin, then set her on her feet. “It makes you sound possessive, and that doesn’t bother me so much.”

“I’m going back down.” She pads over to the dresser and pulls out a clean swimsuit. When she’s dressed, she turns back to me. “Are you going to join me?”

“Yes. Would a tank top be too revealing?”

She laughs now and shakes her head. “You don’t have to wear anything.”

I slip the tank over my head and shrug. “If it makes you more comfortable, it doesn’t bother me.”

“We’re sappy. You know that, right?”

“Darling, what a sweet thing to say.”

* * *

The casino is loud and bustling around me. I’m seated at a high-roller blackjack table, sipping whiskey and watching Nadia from several yards away.

She’s at a poker table, pouting because she just lost five thousand dollars.

“Well, poo,” she huffs and gives the man beside her a forlorn look. “I’m really bad at this, aren’t I?”

I ask the dealer to hit me and hold at nineteen.

“I’ve seen worse,” her companion says. “Let’s try this, shall we?”

His hand is on the small of her back and drifts down to her ass as he leans in to help her with her next hand.

My stomach twists.

He’s going to lose that hand. And I’m not talking about the cards.

I win at nineteen and rake in twenty grand in chips as the asshole laughs and nuzzles Nadia’s nose.

I sip my whiskey and act disinterested.

She loses again.

“That wasn’t quite as bad,” he tells her and moves in closer. “Now, for this hand, we’ll do things a little differently.”

I’m dealt a four of clubs and a queen of hearts. I tell the dealer to hit me and draw the six of diamonds.

I hold, and the dealer goes down the line of other players.

Nadia wins her hand and claps her hands joyfully, then kisses the man on the cheek.

That earns her ass a nice squeeze.

Fucking hell, how long do I have to watch this shit?

Finally, she whispers in his ear, and he rewards her with a wide smile and a nod of acceptance.

They leave the poker table.

I fold my cards, take my chips, and follow them.

“Are you on a good floor?” she asks, loud enough for me to hear her.

“The twelfth is nice and quiet,” he assures her as they get into an elevator.

I take a different one and count my lucky stars when I get off just after them and follow them down the hall. He opens their door, and I hurry up, then push my way inside before he can shut it behind them.

“Hey, what’s the big deal?”

“We could ask you the same thing,” Nadia says, not smiling and flirting now.

He tries to act as if he doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but the longer we just stare at him, our weapons drawn, he loses the fight. He finally blows out a breath and holds up his hands in surrender.