Page 14 of Possessive Mafia Vows

The bell rings again.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! I should have turned Kyle away while I had the chance.

I catch a glimpse of us in the mirror. Kyle is as immaculate as ever, his damp suit jacket almost dry, not a crease in sight as evidence of what we just did. And there I am beside him, rosy-cheeked, my hair looking like I just climbed off a vertical loop roller coaster in gale force winds.

I push my hair back and fasten it into a messy bun on top of my head. Then I lick my index fingers and try wiping away the dark smudges under my eyes where my mascara has leaked, probably while I was in the throes of the best orgasm of my life,

“You look beautiful, leoin.” Kyle meets my gaze in the mirror. “No one would ever know that my cock was just inside your beautiful pussy.”

He comes closer, and I can smell me on him. Or can I smell it on me? I clamp my hands over my mouth and exhale into them, checking out my breath. It’ll have to do.

My stomach twists as I switch the office lights off and walk through the gallery. Maybe I should’ve warned Kyle that I was expecting Nick, but it’s too late now. His beige cashmere coat is visible through the window, and as we approach the entrance, his smile fades when he spots Kyle.

Deep breath. I unlock the door.

I only agreed to the date because Nick refused to take no for an answer. But right now, sitting opposite him in a swanky restaurant, feigning interest in his conversation while my body is still tingling from Kyle’s touch, is the last thing I want to do.

“Hello, Nick.” I can feel the tension emanating from Kyle. “You met Kyle at the launch party.”

I have a vague recollection of Nick whisking me away from Kyle when he arrived and somehow manipulating my movements so that our paths didn’t cross again, but I tuck it away for later.

“Kyle Murray.”

Nick doesn’t shake Kyle’s extended hand, he doesn’t smile in greeting, or exchange any of the pleasantries associated with making new acquaintances. Instead, before I can diffuse the obvious hostility between the two men with a flippant comment, he says, “I had a feeling we’d meet again, although I didn’t expect it would be so soon.”

His tone is cold, a million miles away from the soothing cadence of the voice he has perfected for anxious patients.

“Kyle popped in to see how I’m getting on,” I say.

“I’m surprised he didn’t just do some digging or get one of his cronies to check up on you. That’s what guys like you do, isn’t it?”

My gaze flits between the two men. I’ve no idea what he means, but the chill in his voice has just obliterated the contentment I felt in Kyle’s passionate embrace a short while ago.

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

Nick arches a well-groomed eyebrow. “Your friend here has been making inquiries about me. Perhaps you should’ve warned him that you don’t need his permission, or anyone else’s for that matter, to date other men.”

4

KYLE

Date?Is Sienna dating Nick Morris?

It feels as if the revelation has wrapped cotton candy around my brain and sealed it inside a polythene bag.

Why didn’t she say anything?

I gave her the opportunity to let me go. I said that I would walk away, and she’d never hear from me again. Was it too much pressure, or did she want me as badly, as desperately, as whole-fucking-heartedly as I want her?

“Kyle?” Sienna’s voice slices through the spun sugar in my head and lodges in my throat. “What’s he talking about?”

“It sounds worse than it is.” Jesus fucking Christ, and I sound like a kid who just smashed the flatscreen TV and is trying to kid his parents that they can still watchThe Simpsons.“We didn’t get introduced, and I was curious. I’d do the same with any new acquaintance.”

“How many other background checks did you carry out after the gallery opening?” The eyebrow is still quirked at an awkwardangle, and I wonder if he has a resume of poses that he refers to for various occasions.

“The other guests were considerate enough to introduce themselves. But you…”

I sense Sienna flinching beside me. But this guy’s moral compass is all over the place, and I refuse to sit back and let him cozy up to her over a steak meal and fine wine, when I haven’t yet figured out his motive. Had he been rude and dismissive to every other guest at the gallery, I’d be more inclined to let it go, but he singled me out as the threat to his alpha status, and I want to know why.

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