The Mobster and the Soccer Mom

"You better be careful this weekend. You got that? "

She numbly nodded her head in agreement.

Three nights later, Richard sat in a Shreveport hotel and tried to drink his black mood away. The hotel bar was crowded as usual for a Saturday night. He came here every couple of months on business, and never seemed to have a problem with it. The rooms were comfortable, the bar busy and eclectic enough to suit his tastes.

But tonight he just wanted to be alone with his drink. He hadn't slept well the night before. The bed was uncomfortable, the room gloomier than usual. He tossed and turned and couldn't seem to settle.

His business went without a glitch, having ordered and paid for another shipment of merchandise.

But he had a nagging feeling of resentment for having to be here, irritation for the travel in his schedule. He glanced up from his drink and saw a woman watching him from her seat at the bar. She was slim and blonde and attractive. Just the type he would usually go for. Take to his room and enjoy the rest of the night with. She smiled at him. He thought about what it would feel like to have her naked, spread on his bed. It could happen so easy. She looked easy. He would have to use a condom so he could stay clean for Jenny. He thought of Jenny's sweetness. His mood turned darker.

He finished his drink and set the glass down. He stood up. He needed something to make the dark mood disappear. He thought the blonde could do it. He could shut his eyes and put it in her and pretend she was Jenny.

Fuck! He couldn't believe his brain had come up with that. Anger at himself and with Jenny slid through his veins. He just needed some more time to get her out of his system. Then he could get on with his life and with blondes like the one at the bar. He thought of all the nameless, faceless sluts that dominated his world. Irritation pulsed through him.

He walked out of the bar and up to his room alone.

Jenny's weekend was much better than Richard's. She loved spending time with the boys, and nothing could change that. The three of them spent time lounging around the hotel pool, and she listened with proud amazement at what they were accomplishing this semester. Her boys continued to surprise her and always in a good way.

She was somewhat disconcerted when Mark told her that they thought she should start dating again. She looked at John, and saw the agreement in his serious, young eyes. "We want you to be happy mom, and to have someone. We don't want you to be alone. "

The idea was intriguing, and during the five-hour drive home, she contemplated the suggestion with happiness and excitement.

She pulled into her driveway at five-thirty. Her phone rang at six. "Hello? "

"Jenny. " Pleasure coursed through her at the sound of his deep voice.

"Hi. "

"Are you home? " His voice was clipped, impatient.

"Yes, are you? "

"Yes. I'll pick you up in an hour. "

"No. Wait, Richard. You can't. I can't spend the night over there tonight. It's Sunday night. I've got a million things to do. I haven't washed clothes in almost two weeks. The house is a mess. I-- "

He cut her off.

"Fine. I'll spend the night over there. Have you eaten? I'll pick up some food. "

She paused. She hadn't thought he would want to spend the night at her house. It wasn't like him. But she liked the idea. "Um, okay. No, I haven't eaten. "

"I'll see you at seven. "

Jenny hung up the phone as excitement gripped her. This affair she was embroiled in was getting deep. The repercussions of that thought dimmed her happiness. She still didn't believe that a bar could make the kind of living that he enjoyed. She didn't think he was telling her the whole truth. Or maybe not even half the truth.

But she still felt totally safe entrusting her body to him. He wouldn't hurt her physically. She knew that. Deep down, she knew that. And it wasn't like they were going to get married or anything. They were just sleeping together. That was all. Just sleeping together.

Chapter Eight

When she opened the door at seven, the impact of his presence hit her. Two nights without him, and the attraction was mind-blowing. They stared at each other.

"Hi. " She felt almost shy. Why did she feel like that?

"Hi, yourself. I need to put this stuff down. " His hands were full. He had a duffel in one hand and a take out bag in the other. She opened the door wide and he walked through.

"Come back to the kitchen. "

He followed her through to the back of the house. She took the food from him and put it on the counter. He dropped his duffel by the table.

"Come here. " She turned to face him. He held out a hand and she reached out to take it. He didn't waste any time, and pulled her to him. He wrapped his arms around her.

His arms tightened and Jenny felt him bury his face in her hair. Surprise and pleasure slammed into her as she realized he was breathing in her scent. She stood in his beefy grasp and let him absorb her aroma.

"Did you miss me? " she teased him.

The truth of her words jarred him. The sudden realization of why he had been in a black mood all weekend disturbed him. He had known he resented being away from her because he couldn't have sex with her. It hadn't occurred to him that he missed her. "Mmm. " His answer was noncommittal.

She playfully hit him on the arm. "You so missed me. " She tried to wiggle away from him. His hold was unrelentingly tight. She stilled and attached her gaze to his chest.

"You're not going anywhere yet. " His arms were manacles.

"Why not? "

"Because you haven't given me my 'hello' kiss yet. "

She looked up at him through her eyelashes. "Hello. " Her voice was soft and low.

He looked into her eyes and felt the impact of her spell surround him. He lowered his head and claimed her lips for his own. She felt soft, smooth, and perfect for him. He felt weakened, captivated by her softness.

Shit. He had it bad for her.

That evening, Jenny moved around the house, getting ready for Monday. She washed two loads of laundry, and straightened up her office area. She did some quick filing and a little cleaning. But there was one big difference to her routine. Richard lounged in her living room, watching television, and watching her.

After the hello kiss, Jenny had expected him to pounce on her. He didn't. He just moved away, asked about her weekend with the boys, and started unpacking the food. They ate in the kitchen.

Since then, she was supremely aware of him watching her. He was quiet, and wasn't trying to keep her from her chores. But he was there. He didn't seem to be at ease. He was not paying attention to the television. His eyes followed her. He had an air of tension around him, as if he was trying to restrain himself.

That night, when they went to bed together in her bedroom for the first time, his lovemaking was prolonged, deliberate. He seemed intent on making her wait. Every time she was close, he changed the rhythm, or changed his tactics. He would stop touching her except to hold her face, and kiss her until she was breathless. He was trying to prove something. It was like a contest, and he was going to be the winner.

After the fourth time of bringing her to the cusp of orgasm, and then slowing down, she whispered, "Please. "

"Tell me you want me. " His voice was harsh. His breathing erratic.

"I want you. Please. " She lifted her hips.

"Tell me you need me in you. " He dropped his lips and sucked on her nipple.

"Please. I need you in me. " She continued to push against him.

"Tell me you missed me. " He rasped his teeth over her nipple.

"I missed you, Richard. I missed you so much. " At her words, the dam seemed to break, and he shoved into her body and drove his tongue in her mouth.

She hung in the maelstrom of his passion, and reveled in his possession. She screamed as her climax hit her hard and fast, and felt him take the last few strokes to his completion.

He groaned and fell on top of her. Their breathing slowed and they slept in each other's arms.

The next two days passed in the same undemanding pattern. She would work. He would come pick her up. They would get food and spend the night at his house. He always brought her home in the mornings.

Wednesday afternoon brought thunderstorms and higher winds than usual. Jenny was glad she had already put her hours in at the office, and could finish out her work week inside her home.

A nagging, persistent doubt plagued her all day. The affair she was embroiled in was captivating but disturbing. Her main concern was that she was flat out going to fall in love with someone totally unsuitable.

How did a man expect you to continue to have sex with him on an ongoing basis without falling in love? No words had been spoken about the time limit or any parameters being put on the affair. She was quickly coming to need more. She knew herself well, and knew she couldn't continue this indefinitely without some kind of commitment to the relationship. Relationship? She was even scared to use that word.

She watched the rain falling and debated what she should do. She wanted to test him, to push him in some way, but didn't know how or what to do. She smiled to herself when she realized she was plotting against him. Or was she plotting for him? Did she even want him?

She put the dilemma of his occupation aside for the moment.

Oh my God, yes. She did.