Page 34 of Marrying the Mobster
I don’t think so.
I pinch my lips around sounds of pleasure as I rub myself toward climax, watching Diego fuck his hand. He looks different when he thinks no one can see him—tortured and vulnerable, the mask slipping just enough for me to see the truth.
Diego isn’t the one in control here. I know he’s thinking of me while jerking off, remembering how he had me naked with his cock pressed against my ass. I know he’s imagining fucking me from behind, pulling my hair and sinking his teeth into my neck.
I’m imagining those things too, but in my mind Diego isn’t fucking me, I’m fuckinghim—pushing my hips back into each of his thrusts and driving him wild, making him want me enough to give me anything I want.
I throw my head back and come with a shudder, realizing I wasn’t the one who lost the battle tonight. The defeated Diego comes when I do, doubling over and muttering ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ under his breath as he comes in the bowl of the sink.
Feeling steadier and calmer, I roll back to my side and listen while he cleans himself up and comes back to bed. I fall asleep feeling like I’m on top of the world.
Diego Pérez might be the most powerful man in this house, in Miami, in Florida, and maybe even the entire southeast coast … but he’s just met his match.
16
Diego
“Oleg isn’t buying it.”
Jaime’s face is grim as he looks up at me, turning away from his computer screens. Bracing a hand against the back of his chair, I lean in as if being closer will help me understand the jumble of Russian coming through the speaker.
Despite his status as one of my most useful men, Jaime asks for very little in the way of perks. Jovan’s suite on the second floor takes up four rooms and a bathroom with a jacuzzi tub, and a space for ‘entertainment,’ complete with stripper pole and fully stocked bar. I don’t mind allowing luxuries for the man who has always had my back and has saved my life on more than one occasion. For his skill set, Jaime could have asked me for anything, and I would have paid it.
Instead, all he wanted was this dark, soundproofed attic room attached to the smaller space where he sleeps. The place is a mess, but Jaime knows where everything is and even I’m not stupid enough to touch any of it. He once broke someone’s hand for tilting one of his monitors.
“What are they saying?” I ask, my Russian nowhere near good enough to make out fluent sentences.
Spying on a potential ally isn’t usually my style, but I have to know how effective mine and Elena’s performance was.
Jaime narrows his eyes and listens before translating. “Oleg says you suddenly being in a serious relationship is suspicious. Galina agrees with him. Apparently, Nataly cried after we left. She’s devastated.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “She doesn’t even know me.”
“You know that doesn’t matter,” Jaime reminds me. “Her entire life has been built around this. If it wasn’t you, she’d be crying over some other suitor.”
I hold one hand up as the rapid-fire Russian continues over the line. I recognize the voices of Oleg, Galina, and … maybe Viktor? I haven’t spent enough time around the Yezhov sons to be able to distinguish their voices.
“What are they saying now?” I ask during a lull in the conversation.
“Viktor says Oleg is being ridiculous, suspecting you. He says if he’d met a woman like Elena, he would make her his without hesitation.”
My knuckles crack when I clench my fist, and heat creeps up my neck and face. “What else?”
“Galina agrees with him,” Jaime replies. “She says it isn’t uncommon for young people to fall in love on first sight. Oleg still isn’t happy. He thinks you haven’t given Nataly a fair chance and … your feelings for Elena aren’t deep enough to be concerning. He says you’ll grow bored of her eventually, and when you do, Nataly will be ready to step in and seal the deal.”
I pace away from Jaime’s workstation and back again, wrestling with irritation at Oleg and rage at Viktor for the way he spoke about Elena. It doesn’t matter that me and Elena’s relationship is only a ruse; I’ve never taken well to someone else sniffing around what’s mine.
“They’re buying the relationship itself, at least,” I murmur, thinking out loud. “They just need to be convinced it isn’t a fling.”
Jaime makes a sound low in his throat, drawing my attention back to him. He’s watching me with wary eyes. We aren’t close like me and Jovan, but I can tell Jaime’s dying to say something.
“What?” I snap.
Jaime shrugs and turns back to his computers. His fingers click rhythmically over the keys as Oleg and his family continue talking. “It’s nothing. The last time I suggested it, you bit my head off.”
I grit my teeth and contemplate revisiting that idea. “For fuck’s sake, I already told you, I’m not marrying Nataly!”
Jamie’s shoulders shake with laughter, but he doesn’t turn around. “Didn’t say anything about the Yezhov girl,jefe.”
