Page 55 of Mafia Captor

Her question surprises me. “You want to invite them? All of them?”

“Of course!”

Her sweet smile gives me a flashback to five years ago. Booker, begging for my time. Wanting me to take him to drive go-carts like I promised. She-who-must-not-be-named—we’ll call her Ms. Voldemort since at that time period Booker was in a Harry Potter phase, thinking he was getting a letter and headed off to wizard school at any minute—made it very clear; I would be dining with her in the city, and no tagalongs were invited.

I’m still pissed at myself over that one.

Ms. Voldemort wanted me all to herself, was jealous of my time. Didn’t like how close I was with my family. I love that Ashe’s including my brothers in our lives.

We reach the door. I need a minute to sort myself out. Get myself back to the stubborn hard-ass that I am. If I don’t take some time to kick my own ass back over to the dark side, Ashe’s gonna turn me into a damn pillow. People are gonna be sleeping on me.

Can’t leave her without a kiss, though. I lean down, planting a smacker on the top of her head. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Okay.” She tenses at my side, a question forming in her mind. “Hey, first, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

Her brow knits. “What mistake did you make? With the last girl?”

Her eyes say it all.

She wants to know—will I make the same mistake with her?

Never.

Even if I slipped up, which I wouldn’t—

She wouldn’t let me.

Family means everything to her, just as it does to me.

“She asked me to push my family away,” I say. “To make space for her. And for a while, I listened.”

Relief comes over her. “Oh. Well, I think there’s enough room for everyone.” She smiles up at me. “Don’t you?”

“Hell yes, I do.”

“K.” She gazes up at me with those enchanting eyes. “I’ll gather the guys. See you then.”

I have to give that ass one more smack as she walks away. She laughs, shooing my hand away. I watch her curves jiggle under the thin material of her dress as she goes. My favorite pastime these days.

I take a long shower, letting the heat from the water ease the tension from my muscles. I run my slick, soap-covered hands over my body. The memory of her standing there—bared to me—the sunlight glinting off her blonde hair. Her body, a work of art, but it was the spark in her eyes, that sensual little smile on her face that struck me in my core, need hitting me like a wrecking ball in the gut.

The only thing that would make the memory better would be if she had my ring on her hand.

She’s got to be the one.

My hand glides over my abs, dipping below my waist. Rub up and down my hardening shaft with sudsy strokes. I play with my balls, cupping them then tugging at the skin. I grip my cock, the thought of my mouth around her sun-kissed skin taking me over the edge. I come, hard. Rinse off. Take a deep breath and run my hand through my freshly washed hair.

I stroll through my closet, choosing a shirt for tonight. My fingers slip over the sleeve of a light blue linen shirt, one Ashely would love. She mentioned she likes me in blue. The color matches her eyes.

Fuck. Me. Did that thought actually just cross my mind? Wear a shirt to match my girl’s—eyes?

I’m going to make myself gag with this mushy shit.

I grab a button-down, tugging it from the hanger. I’m wearing my usual. Black. I go with gray pants and sleek leather lace-up boots. After rolling my sleeves to my elbows, I slip my navy and silver Tag Heuer watch on my wrist.

I guess there’s a bit of blue for her after all.

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