Dirty Dom: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) (4 page)

“
F
our
,” I hold up my fingers for Jax to see, “little lady bugs sitting on a tree.” He giggles and holds up his four fingers. I love his toothy grin. We’re on his rocket ship bed with his Mickey space themed bedding reading a story to settle him down for bed. “Along came a frog and then there were…” I try to turn the page but he shuts the book on my fingers.

“Little man-” I stop my scolding as he yawns. He’s so tuckered out. He almost fell asleep in the bath and that never happens. He freaking loves splashing in the tub. Especially if he can soak me. It’s his favorite past time. He yawns again and rubs his eyes with his little fists. A soft smile plays at my lips and I put the book on the little night stand next to his bed. His cup of water is there, but I really should take it; I don’t want him to have an accident. I lean down and give him a kiss on the forehead. “I love you baby boy; have sweet dreams.”

“Love you, Mommy.” Hearing those words melts my heart and they get me every time. I rise slowly and walk to the door. I double check the night light before I hit the light switch and close the door. I wait a minute, listening by the door. Some days he’s a little deviant and gets up to play, but tonight he’s pretty beat. After a few minutes of silence, I walk to my own bedroom.

It fucking sucks being in here. Everything reminds me of him. I don’t know why I haven’t gotten rid of anything. The picture frames on the wall are full of our pictures. A couple from my pregnancy and Jax’s birth. But then there are wedding pictures on the dresser.
His
dresser. I rub the back of my neck and sigh. I should take care of this. I really should. I can’t live like this. I fall back against the wall and look at the room. The color of the comforter is a stormy blue, it’s what he picked. The rug is the modern shag one he wanted. The furniture was his. There’s hardly anything in here that’s
mine
. Everything has him all over it. At least I picked my own clothes out. Thank god he didn’t have a preference for that.

And heels. I wouldn’t budge on that shit. Heels are my indulgence. I don’t care if I spend a little extra on them occasionally.

I turn around and walk out of the bedroom; I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight. It seems like every other night this happens. I come to the realization that our bedroom was really his bedroom and instead of dealing with it, I just leave. I cringe as the thought hits me. I’m a stronger woman than that, but I’m so fucking tired. I’m way too fucking tired to deal with this shit. I grin and think about messaging Sarah. That’s why I have a PA, to take care of this shit for me. I can’t message her this late though. That would make me a shit boss.

I grin as I turn on the light to the guest bedroom. This room is mine. All mine. From the antique furniture and cream paisley bedspread to the pale aqua paint and plush chenille woven rug. All me. I curl my toes in the rug and sigh. I can sleep in here. I should just burn the old bedroom. After I take out the pictures of Jax … and my heels.

I rub my sore eyes and climb into bed. Up at 4 to make sure everything’s good with the restaurant and that the orders came in. And hopefully Jax will sleep in until 7, fingers crossed for 8, so I can get all the morning shit done before lunch rush starts. I settle down deep into the covers and rest my eyes. Tomorrow will be a better day. I will make it a better day. I no longer have to deal with any of this shit with Rick. The pain in my chest forms. I’m not sure if it’s from Rick dying or leaving me or cheating on me … or trying to take Jax away from me. That fucking bastard. I shake my head and push down the emotions. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters now. It’s all over. Paying his debt was the last thing I had to do.

My teeth grind against one another. It’s a good fucking thing they gave me his phone and I had the balls to look at it. What if I’d never seen it? “Fucking Rick,” I mutter with every bit of disdain I have left in me and roll over under the sheets.

I pull them up close to my chest and snuggle deep into the pillow top mattress. Happy thoughts. Positive thoughts. Do good things, think good things, and good things will happen. I repeat my mantra a few times and then open my eyes. I bite my bottom lip feeling like a bitter bitch, but really – where the fuck did thinking like that get me?

I throw the covers back and head to the shower. I don’t care that it’s going to fuck my hair up in the morning by sleeping with it wet. I need a real shower. I need to wash all this shit off of me.

I clear my mind of everything and put a few drops of eucalyptus oil into the back of the shower as the room fills with steam. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. The cream marble tiles on the floor of the stall heat instantly under my feet. I step into the water, letting the warm spray wash away the day. I turn around and soak my hair. Breathing in deep. Everything will be alright. Everything happens for a reason.

Just as I start to feel the heavy pull of relaxation, I remember today, I remember
him
.

A soft moan leaves my lips, my dirty criminal. Although I can’t, I pretend like I can still smell him on me. I wish I could. The eucalyptus suddenly feels like a bad idea. I try to remember that masculine scent. All woodsy and raw. Raw is a good word to describe him. A heat rushes up my chest and into my cheeks as I remember that’s how he took me, raw. My fingers brush against my hips, down to my thighs. My lips part as I remember him pushing me against the wall and slamming into me. Almost surreal. Like a dark fantasy I’ve dreamed about. I pull my fingers back and open my eyes realizing where my thoughts have gone. I can’t do this shit. It’s one thing to fantasize; it’s another to indulge.
Indulge?
I shake my head. No, that’s not what that was. That was him taking advantage. Even if I enjoyed it. I bite my lip and start washing my body. It’s so fucking wrong that I enjoyed that. No wonder I’m alone. My head goes dizzy and I have to lean against the stall. Fuck. I turn the temperature down and steady myself. I’m just too fucked up for this right now. My emotions are out of control. I don’t know what’s normal, what’s rational, and what is just truly fucked.

Other than me. I was in fact truly fucked today. I turn off the water and step out. The bathroom is chillier than I like it to be, but it was a quick shower. I grab the towel and quickly dry off. I need to get to bed. I take out my face moisturizer and the serum for my hair and apply both. As I shut the cabinet, I catch sight of the spot where my birth control should be. I haven’t had any for months.

Thank god I took the morning after pill. And just like that, every bit of desire and heat leaves me. I don’t have time for fantasies. I don’t have time to indulge in something that would destroy the small piece of me that survived Rick.

I huff and throw on a night shirt to quickly get into bed. Today was a one off. Whatever I did today – I shake my head with my eyes closed – it doesn’t count. Sarah will never mention it again. I wish she hadn’t been there. I wish she hadn’t seen me after that. After him. Fuck the thought of him lights every nerve ending in my core aflame. FUCK!

I bury my head into the pillow and try to forget the shameful desire burning deep down in my core. It only takes the thought of him closing the door on me with out a second look to shut down my desire. What a fucking prick. He may be hot and powerful and fucked me like he owns me, but he’s still an asshole. All men are fucking assholes.

It’s wrong to want a man like him. But I can’t lie to myself; I really fucking want him.

“
S
o tell
me what you know about her.” I question Tony as soon as I get him alone. De Luca’s fucked. He’s been fucked. We gotta keep our heads low. Yada yada. Same shit as last week. Mother fucker came for me; I took care of it. Pops is proud and he’s sending a message. Beyond that, I don’t want a damn thing to do with this shit.

Back to making bets and hunting down my doll. Just thinking about her owing me makes my dick grow rigid. I shift my weight to cover it up, waiting for Tony to get all the info on the iPad. He takes that thing everywhere. I don’t really like the idea, even if it is password protected and encrypted. I told Pops, I told everyone. Apparently, this technology is fine and it doesn’t have
everything
on it. Still, I don’t like having a device with any information on it pertaining to the business.

I have to admit though, when he hands it over to me and my doll’s picture looks back at me, suddenly I don’t really give a fuck about the iPad. I read the description and go through the photos.

Rebecca Lynn Harrison. Maiden Name: Bartley.

Thirty one years old. Birthday January 2
^nd
1985.

Widow to Richard Francis Harrison. Married December 14
^th
2011.

Died of heart attack at 34 years old. Birthday May 12
^th
1982

Mother to Jax Liam Harrison.

Three Years old. Birthday April 5
^th
2013.

I
tick
my jaw reading that part about a son. Kids complicate shit. I can’t just keep her to myself whenever I want and expect her to submit without any question.

O
wner of Marcello’s Italian Bistro
.

127 Pattinsons Plaza. Value 2 million.

Owner of 2 story family home in Harmony Place.

42 Hills Lane. Value 600 K.

R
ecent Legal Action

Divorce and distribution of assets – dismissed

Questions regarding custody – also dismissed

“
W
hat the fuck
is this about?” Anger rises in my chest. Is she not a good mother? I won’t fuck with someone who doesn’t take care of their own. That’s not the kind of woman I want.

“Her husband was a piece of shit. I’ve got his info on there too.” He motions to the iPad and I suck in a deep breath.

I scroll past a few pictures of my doll in front of her restaurant.
Marcello’s
Italian Bistro
. I’ll have to see about that. I doubt her meatballs are as good as Ma’s. I smirk taking in the façade of the restaurant. I’ve never been there; never even heard of it. We have our own upscale bistro. But the people who come to us are looking for an experience. It’s not like Pops isn’t known as the head of the mafia. The cops have been on him throughout the years, but they’ve never been able to get anything to stick. The papers crucify him anytime there’s blood shed in the streets. Most of the time it’s got nothing to do with us. Sometimes it’s deserved, but it’s a rare day that the papers get their information right.

So when people come into our bistro, they’re hoping to see some shit from the sopranos or something. The thought makes me chuckle. I stare at the picture of her restaurant. Of Rebecca’s restaurant. I like that name. Rebecca. It feels good on my tongue. It looks like a nice place. I bet it’s decent inside. But Italian? Real Italian? Nah, I doubt it. I smirk and keep scrolling. I’ll have to go in and find out for myself.

I stop on a picture of her holding a little boy in her arms. He must be her son. I look past the kitchen doorway to the den and take a peek at Gino.

“What’s Gino now? Is he three?” I ask him as I lean against the granite countertops.

He shrugs, “no clue, Dom.”

“Ma!” I yell through the kitchen to the dining room where her and Jessica are having a cup of tea. I know I’m interrupting them, but Ma won’t mind.

She walks to the doorway with her hands on her hips and her lips pursed. “Why do you have to yell Dom? Huh? You can’t just walk into the room like a normal person?”

“Sorry Ma, just wanted to know how old Gino is.”

“He’ll be three in June.” She narrows her eyes at me, “why are you asking?”

I shrug, “no reason.” I don’t lie to my Ma, not ever and the one time I do, she sees right through me. I guess I don’t lie cause I’m a shitty liar. Her eyes focus on the iPad in my hands. “Not now, Ma.” I warn her. Her lips part and she takes a step back giving me a look of disappointment.

“I wanna see Dominic.” She puts one hand on her hip and the other is palm up extended in front of her. Fuck me.

“Ma. It’s just a girl; she doesn’t even know me.” Well she kind of knows me, in the biblical sense, but Ma doesn’t need to hear that.

“There’s a lot of broads out there Dom,” Pops comes up from behind me and takes the iPad out of my hand. He’s the only one in here I’d let get away with that shit. He chuckles. “You always go for the challenge don’t you? You can’t be happy with a nice single 20 something. You wanna go with a chick with baggage.”

“Dante! A child is not baggage!” Ma looks pissed. I raise my eyebrows and stare passed my Ma to the dining room. My parents don’t fight. Never. Can’t tell you one time they ever got into an argument. But Ma sure as shit likes to beat up on Pops. She doesn’t let him get away with a damn thing.

“Oh hush, I’m only saying having a kid creates extra work.” He hands the iPad back to me and adds, “if he’s not looking for anything but a good time, there’s no reason to go after a broad who has to worry about a little one.” I nod my head, hearing what my Pops is saying, but I don’t fucking like it.

“What you need to do is knock it off with all the girls and find a good woman to settle down with.”

“All the girls?” I scrunch my face up in distaste. “What girls?” It’s not like I bounce from girl to girl. I’m not some fucking man whore. Not that I really see a problem either way. I mean I’m not into slut shaming. You do what you want, how you want. Vince has a fleet of women coming and going. They know what they’re signing up for. I don’t give him a hard time over it. I just prefer something different. I like to build some trust. A one-night stand is nothing that can give me the high I need. It’s a quick release, and that’s just not my thing. I like gaining trust and pushing limits. I enjoy finding out a woman’s deepest, darkest fantasies. Hard to make that come true if they don’t trust you enough to tell you.

I hear Vince laugh from the den, great the whole fucking family is in on it now. He walks into the kitchen leaning against the fridge with a huge fucking grin on his face. I cut him off as his mouth opens. “Shut it.” I point my thumb in Ma’s direction. “She gets a pass.” Then at Pops. “He gets a pass.” Then I point at him with my brows raised. “Not you. Fuck off.”

“Dom!” Ma scolds me.

“I know, I know.” I roll my eyes and pass the iPad back to Tony. “Language.” I look at Tony, “email it to me.”

Ma looks at me expectantly. “Ma, really.” I don’t fucking want her involved. This is just pussy. I can’t get this broad out of my head. Partly because I want to apologize, but mostly I want her cunt wrapped around my dick again. And that ass. Just thinking of it makes my dick come to attention. And that’s my cue to fucking leave. I did my part; I came to Sunday dinner. I told them about that little shit Marco and De Luca’s bull shit.

I give Ma a hug, “you’re leaving already?” She sounds hurt and it would make me feel guilty if she didn’t say it like that every time.

“Gotta go Ma; I love you.” She gets a kiss on the cheek. Pop gets a quick hug and the rest get a wave as I walk my ass out the door to my Benz.

Time to go home and really look into this woman. I already know I want her; I’ve just got to figure out how I’m gonna get her to owe me again. The smirk on my face vanishes as I remember I’m gonna have to address how I behaved the first time. My hands twist the steering wheel. I’m not so good with apologies, but I’m sure I’ll figure out a way to make it up to her. I groan thinking up all the ways I’ll make it up to my doll.

I can’t fucking wait to get inside her tight pussy again. I haven’t got anything planned for tomorrow. Well, now I do.