Page 2 of Spring Break with a Mafia Prince
Or that there was interest in becoming one of them.
“Is it?” Rose Darkham’s rosebud mouth never changed its shape, but his eyes drifted over my body in an unbidden caress.
Light fingers brushed my thigh and when I didn’t push him away immediately, my father’s stray reached up boldly to cup my cock, squeezing me through my charcoal slacks. I gritted my teeth, biting my tongue to keep the moan that built in my throat on the inside.
The man, however young he seemed in comparison to the rest of my father’s cadre, though he was probably only twenty something, maybe twenty-one or twenty-two like me, knew what to do with his hands. He gentled his touch on instinct when I didn’t respond. Breath hissed between my teeth, though I managed to keep the volume down.
“No one here has earned the right to have their hands on me tonight.” I kept my voice aloof as I held his gaze and leaned into his space until we shared a single breath. “Until I give you permission,ciccio, keep your unworthy hands off me.” I flicked out the tip of my tongue to brush his bottom lip to let a teasing edge filter into my words.
Why push him away when I might have a use for him later? Rose’s head tipped back, and his eyes fluttered closed, that knowing touch dropping away. I swore the other man nearly came in his pants. The wave of power that washed over me was a heady thing.
I missed the contact when his hand left my cock almost immediately, but pushed my way through the door and forced my legs to mount the stairs one at a time until the brisk sea air wiped my head clear of the sinful, seductive air that was all too tempting below decks.
Any other night I might have taken him up on his offer. Tonight…I needed time to myself. Away from the mess my father made of his play time in an effort not to become my sire before my time was up.
You’ll never escape your fate. One day you’ll become what you hate.
The words my mother said to be the night before she left this life forever. I kept them with me always. I might have to take my father’s seat one day, but I didn’t have to become him just yet.
I breached the haze that clung to me as I strode across the upper deck all the way to the stern. The few crewmen on clean up from our party time on this level before were long gone, leaving me alone with the sea and the stars for company despite being moored at the far end of Love Beach’s Marina, away from the glitzy lights and tourist destinations.
It wasn’t like we were the family friendly version of my spring break from Rippton U.
My pocket vibrated. I extracted my phone as I leaned over the railing at the back of the boat, the stillness beneath my feet a surprise after the constant moment and hum of the last days’ travel. I lit the screen, smirking at my roommate’s name.
Dex had his own share of troubles, but his not-girlfriend/Friday night fuck buddy wasn’t anything he couldn't handle midweek.
DEX: Got kicked out of Zin’s. All lonely. Come share my bed, bro.
DEX: You know I’m good for cuddles.
I nearly laughed outright at his bullshit. My thumb flew over the keypad in response.
FALCON: Keep yo sweaty ass outta my bed. I’m not taking Zinzi’s slops.
DEX: Spoilsport.
FALCON: Just keeping it real, bro.
DEX: Yeah, sure. Maybe I’ll steal whatever pretty piece you bring home next.
I snorted under my breath. Not likely; his soft spot was for one killer in knee high boots, dark denim, black hair and the attitude to take him on alone.
FALCON: Good luck with that, man. I’ll watch from a front row seat.
DEX: Nothing to see here tonight, my friend.
FALCON: Grovel. It’s what she needs to see and you know it.
DEX: I’ll bend a knee to that woman any night, but she needs something I can’t give her.
I nodded and pocketed my phone, knowing I’d have to top up my personal stash of whiskey when I got back to our room once he’d drunk himself dry. Zin needed space. He wanted to love bomb her, but in a good way—sort of. Shit, who was I kidding? They were toxic as fuck for each other but for whatever reason they also appeared to be what the other needed. She fought it. He didn’t. Maybe he needed to fight her back.
I ignored the next spate of text messages that came through, knowing he’d have started in on what was probably my favorite bottle. It wasn’t the first time I’d replaced it. Not that it mattered to me. I barely drank back on campus anymore.
The amount of liquor my father’s crew stuffed into me on these trips toharden me uphad the adverse effect of curing me of wanting the shit in my body for the rest of the semester. Half of me wanted to stay and look at who my father surroundedhimself with; the other half couldn’t wait for them to fucking leave.
I dropped my head into my hands with a groan and kicked at the railing. It reverberated against my arms, the vibrations ricocheting through my entire body. I scraped my nails through my scalp, relishing the light pain as a form of distraction.
