Mafia King (Mafia Royals 3.5)

That’s what I was worried about.

“Thanks for the drink.” I left my glass and showed myself out. My mood was dark as I traced my steps back to the club.

The music was too loud.

The night too long.

Kartini danced around Annie now, swaying her hips left and right.

And I snapped.

Something fucking snapped as I stomped toward the dance floor, picked her up, and threw her over my shoulder.

Most of the guys just gave me knowing grins.

All but Valerian, who narrowed his eyes as if to warn me.

“Put me down!” Tiny batted her fists against my back as I carried her down the stairs toward our bungalow. “Tank, I’m serious! This is ridiculous.”

I slapped her on the ass and then groaned. “What the hell did I say about underwear?”

“Forgot it all at home.” She burst out laughing as I gave her body another shake. “Hey!”

“Bedtime,” I rasped.

“What, I have a curfew now? God, you’re so depressingly oldddddd.” She kicked her feet as her heels nearly fell to the ground. “Hey, let’s go get a tattoo.”

“And that’s why you’re going to bed.”

“Killjoy.”

“Yes, but you’re alive. So, you’re welcome.”

“I’m finnneeee!” She sighed. “Nobody’s tried anything since that threat I didn’t even know about…a year ago.” She stilled.

“Something to confess?”

“I think about you when I shower?”

I tripped on my next step. “Not funny.”

“What makes you think I’m lying? Maybe I should buy a vibrator and name it Tank just to mess with you at night, screaming your name. I bet that would kill you, your name falling from my lips only to know it’s a robot giving me pleas—”

I slapped her ass so hard my hand stung.

“OW!” She wiggled. “That’s gonna leave a mark.”

“Good.” I slid the keycard and pushed the door open with my foot, then stomped into the master bedroom, tossing her onto the bed.

She bounced up, down, back up, and then glared. Her blue hair stuck to her lip gloss as she shoved it out of the way, and then she crossed her arms, her breasts nearly spilling out of whatever the hell that tiny scrap of black material was.

The plunging neckline went nearly to her belly button, and she was having trouble covering her thighs.

“Bedtime,” I growled.

She leaned back on her hands and crossed her legs. “You joining me, Tank?”

“Yes.” I peeled my shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

Her expression went from confident to pale, then back again. “W-what?”

“You’re not…scared, are you, Tiny?”

She scowled. “Never. I just don’t want to catch any STDs from your dick. If it touches me, I’m cutting it off with a blunt knife!”

“Sounds exciting. Tell me more.” I yawned. “Now, do I need to help you get your pajamas on, or can we sleep? You’re exhausting.”

“Don’t you mean you’re exhausted?”

“Nope, I said it right.” I flashed a smile. “Well?”

She stood and lifted her chin, then walked over to where I’d thrown my shirt and pulled it over her head. It fell to her knees, and then she very slowly pulled down the straps of her dress and shimmied out of it until it dropped to the floor.

I could see her nipples through my white shirt.

“Ready,” she announced.

“You don’t believe in pajamas?” I shifted on my feet.

She took a step toward me and patted me on the stomach. “I sleep in the nude…you’re welcome.”

I couldn’t contain the groan that left my lips just like she seemed unable to contain the blush that stained her cheeks.

I shoved down my jeans and crawled into bed in nothing but my black boxer briefs, and waited as a dull roar pulsed in my ears.

She was in the bathroom.

Minutes later, the lights turned off, and she crawled into bed beside me.

In my shirt.

A mere foot from my arms.

My hands twitched.

She sighed.

I sighed.

And I hated that every part of me that was male came alive—burned to reach across that mattress and pull her against me.

My life or hers.

That was what I’d been cryptically told by all sides tonight.

Me.

Or this small, terrifying woman sleeping next to me with her veiled threats, blue hair, constant mockery, and gorgeous blue eyes.

I always wondered what it was like when people knew they were going to die. Was it sad? Depressing as hell? Or did it make them come alive?

Because I felt alive.

In that moment.

I wanted to touch, lick, experience. Please.

Because there was a great possibility that when she boarded the plane back home, a certain FBI agent would no longer be with her.

Me.

Her.

I sighed. “You,” I whispered. “Every time.”

Chapter Eight

Kartini

“You,” he whispered. “Every time.”

I froze.

My eyes had been closed.

But he had to know I wasn’t asleep yet. How could I possibly be asleep with my body humming the way it was? He was so close.

After wanting him from afar.

And now…he was in my bed.

I sobered immediately when he shifted.