Marrying the Mob Prince

Tony

2 oz blended scotch

1/4 oz amaretto

How can I get rid of this feeling?

That was how my addiction started.

Smoke a joint, and the discomfort disappears. I didn't take the easy way out anymore. I was committed to experiencing everything. The restrictions I placed on myself staved back the cravings. When someone cracked open a bottle of my favorite prosecco, I imposed an iron will on myself. I would not bend. I would never be that guy again. It was hard.

Fuck, I struggled. Some days were harder than others.

Today, my thoughts warred against me. They urged me to buy things I didn't need for the agony clawing my chest.

Outside a 7-Eleven, a man wearing a hoodie pushed off the wall. His eyes lit up in vague recognition. He waved.

I floored the gas.

The Godfather. My mind seized on the amber drink. Two ounces blended scotch or bourbon. One-fourth ounce amaretto. Poured over ice.

I took random turns, diving into unfamiliar neighborhoods until what haunted me flashed past my window.

EVIE

Jesus Christ.

How did I get here?

No, really. How?

I laughed as I parked the car. My heart pounded as I pictured her inside the shop, toiling on another piece of jewelry. I felt alive.

Addicted.

Evie was the first spark of life since the night it'd been stolen from me. She was like those early months of taking heroin, when happiness sat in my lungs for hours, and I could find beauty in a still frame of a crowded bus stuck in rush hour traffic.

A tall man in a windbreaker strolled out of my wife's store. Christian's laser-like gaze scanned the road until it found me like a bull's-eye. He walked across the street, hood drawn up under the smattering of rain. A bemused grin touched his lips as he leaned on my car and tapped the glass.

I unrolled the window.

He peeked in, shouting over the storm. "You could walk in there instead of acting like a cliché in an eighties romantic comedy."

"Fuck you."

"You're like the guy who stalks the girl he's interested in." Christian chuckled as he reached for a cigarette, cupping his hands around the lighter. "Except this is extra weird because you're married to her. You have problems, T."

I gave him a black look. "You're watching another man's wife. We've all got issues."

"Yeah, but this is on a new level."

"You talk too much."

"You ignore your wife." His expression turned pitying as he blew smoke from the corner of his mouth. "Anthony, go to her. What are you doing outside?"

"Being around Evie is like doing heroin 'only on the weekends.""

"Right. There's a word for that."

Christian's knowing smile stirred my chest.

I knew what he was getting at. She provoked dangerous impulses inside me. They had put a man in the hospital with a breathing tube. Zero regrets, but I hated losing control. I had a bad feeling that she could make me do anything. Hell, I'd already let so many things slide. I could've chained her to my penthouse and forced her to stop defying me. Despite my worst instincts, I just couldn't do that to her.

Christian tapped the hood. "Tony, you're obsessed with Evie for a reason. You're obviously in love with her."

Ice twisted through my heart.

"I don't love her."

"Don't you?"

"I'm bending the biker girl to my will."

"You give her more freedom than I would."

"I'm her husband. I know what's best for her. Not you." It had nothing to do with catching feelings, and Christian needed to back off. "Watch Lifetime if you need more relationship drama, and stay out of my business."

"I'd love to, but I'm around her all day," he grunted, taking another drag from the cigarette. "Guess who she wants to talk about?"

Me?

My mouth slackened.

"When is Tony's birthday? Where is he? Why does he ignore me?" Christian piped up in falsetto, his mirth gut punching me. "There's only so much I can say."

I cringed.

"Look, T...you're going to do whatever you want. I don't expect you to listen to me, but you should go in there. You should've seen her smile when she got your flowers. She wants you. She misses you. Take her out. Spend time with her before it's too late."

I had to stop listening to Christian.

"I'm keeping a distance."

"Fine," he sighed, roughly. "So you won't have a problem if I have dinner with her?"

What the fuck?

I shot him a poisonous glare.

Christian stepped back, hands raised. "She asked if I wanted Thai food. Seemed pretty sad when I told her no."

I was out of the car and shoving the bastard aside before he'd finished his sentence. Then I made a beeline for the store, my teeth clenched. I almost ripped the door off its hinges, earning a side-eye from the security guard.

I headed into the workshop I hadn't seen in weeks. She'd added shelving for her products. Her useless father had finally come through with the jewelry.

Evie sat at the spinning wheel, polishing a gleaming object. A messy braid coiled her neck. She switched off the machine and faced me, glowing.

"I got your flowers. They're beautiful." Evie bounced off the bench and slid her arms in my jacket, tightening around me. She squeezed hard, realigning the heat in my chest. "Thanks."

My hands splayed over her shoulders. Her warmth braced me for the first time in ten days. God, I'd needed this. The nagging, annoying ache that'd bothered me since I left her finally shut the hell up.

I'd missed her.

I'd checked on her from afar. The camera she'd never found gave me snapshots of my wife, and I made a point of sending her something every day-flowers, meals, coffee. I needed her to be all right but I'd ignored my needs for too long. Holding her soothed me. It loosed the tension knotting my muscles.

She pulled away, beaming. "So what brings you here?"

It took a moment to remember why I'd stormed in here.

"Did you really ask Christian out for dinner?"

Evie snorted. Her smile slowly fell. "Are you being serious?"

"He said you wanted to get Thai with him. I told you I'm not okay with that."

"Jesus, Tony. He's pulling your leg. I've had Thai once. Food poisoning. I puked for twelve hours straight. To this day, I can't stand coconut."

Wait, he lied?

I frowned, shaking my head. It made sense when I pictured the bastard's smug grin. I wouldn't visit her, so he made up a cock-and-bull story to light a fire under my ass. I'd seized the bait like an idiot.

"What is your favorite food, then?"

"Don't have one. I've always been obsessed with Japanese cuisine but it's so hard to convince bikers to eat anything that isn't fried or barbecued." She returned to the bench and grabbed a microfiber cloth. "It's like forcing you to put ketchup on pasta."

"I did that as a kid to piss off my mom." I sat next to Evie as she buffed out a ring, smirking. "What are you making?"

She shrugged. "Nothing special."

"Can I see?"

Evie dropped the gold band onto my palm. It was plain, except for the claws that cradled an empty socket.

"I'm setting it with a gray sapphire. I'll sell it for two grand."

"You need to jack up your prices."

"I've studied the market, Tony. I know how much that gem is worth."

"Yeah, but you're not a jewel peddler. You're building a brand." I held it close, studying the tiny, pointed nails on the hand. "The price tag is for the design, not the materials, and everything you make is fucking cool." I gave it to her.

Evie's cheeks bloomed like a sunset on snow. "Have you ever bought someone jewelry?"

"Another woman, you mean?" I smiled, catching on to her. "I'd pick up something whenever I was done with a girl. To soften the blow. Always the same heart-shaped necklace with diamonds." She looked pained. "Oh, Tony."

"What? Isn't that better than ghosting?"

"Heart-shaped jewelry is an insult. That definitely wouldn't work on me."

"If I wanted you hurting for me, I'd get you a pretty rock. An emerald. A yellow diamond." I slipped it from my jacket. "Maybe...an opal."

My palm opened around dark, jagged glass, the surface sparkling with swaths of green, red, orange, and blue. Evie ripped it from my hands and let out a strangled gasp. "When did you get this?"

I shrugged.

Evie dashed to the bench. Shaking, she fitting the scope to her eye and peered at the gem.

"This is the largest uncut black opal I've ever seen. Do you have any idea...do you have any freaking clue how much this is worth?"

"It's expensive? I've used it as a paperweight for years."

"Funny guy," she choked, not sounding amused. "Where did you get it?"

"I bought it a long time ago. It was a stupid, impulsive thing." I did it while high, but we'll leave that out of the story. "It's collected dust in a safe ever since. I figured you'd like it."

I didn't give a damn about rocks. What made them valuable to me was that she loved them.

Evie fisted the gemstone. "What do you want in return?"

"Make something beautiful with it."

Doubt flickered in her gaze. "What else?"

"Make sure you tag me on social media."

"Stop kidding around. This is worth millions."

"When have I not been generous with you?"

Evie seemed to cycle through a myriad of emotions-indignation, shock, awe, denial. "You thought this would be the easiest way into my pants?"

I clenched my mouth tighter.

This was my fault. I was an asshole who only showed up to get off, so she assumed I was here to collect.

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"That's right. I'm here to get my dick greased and it's been a month since I fulfilled my obligation to you."

Evie took a step forward, her voice rising. "You mean humiliating me in front of strangers?" "Filling you with my cum."

Intensity flared through her stare. Evie's lips pressed together in a wavering smile. She hesitated, shaking her head, and then her fingers flew down her blouse, unbuttoning. Her cleavage flashed through, blinding me with arousal. My cock swelled. "What are you doing?"

Evie gave me a quizzical look, the white light from the giant windows framing her innocence with a beauty that stuck in my chest. She peeled the plaid shirt from her smooth shoulders. My thoughts stalled when it fell off her slim body. My heartbeat pulsed wildly.

She reached behind, struggling with the bra clasp. I strode closer and undid it. My palms moistened as they stroked her naked back. Stunned, I held her as she fumbled with her belt. I wasn't here for that but when she offered herself so freely... how could I resist?

My lips parted. The words Evie, don't froze in my lungs.

I didn't want her to stop.

But I had to. "Evie, I-"

"Fuck me," she said, making my mouth water. "But don't expect me to ever love you."

"I don't care about love."

"I know."

The lie crumbled like ashes, the desolation in her voice stinging me with regret. I almost told her the truth-that I admired her above everyone and I had no intention of divorcing her.

Then she unzipped her pants.

My hands were on her ass, helping her push the jeans down before I stopped myself. Drunk on her scent, the softness of her skin, I stepped back. "Evie, you don't-we don't have to do this."

She either ignored me or flat out wasn't listening. She shimmied from her panties, revealing her freshly shaved pussy and the rest of her gorgeous body.

My dick throbbed so hard it hurt, and the frustration rushed to my jaw. I wasn't blind to my attraction to her. Giving her a million-dollar rock was the sort of desperation I'd mocked in other men, but it was a gift. I expected nothing. I just wanted her to shine as brilliantly as the gems she obsessed over.

Evie glared as ferociously as she could while naked. "Get it over with so we can go back to ignoring each other."

My throat tightened.

I ignored her?

I spent hours poring over the cameras before she'd disabled most of them. I visited the apartment when she was gone. Touched her things. Bought her more sketch pads when she ran low. I sent her pastries from my favorite bakery. "Evie, for the last time," I forced myself to meet her eyes and took her face, my thundering pulse drowning out my voice, "I'm not fucking you here."

Yet, confronted with her nakedness, I couldn't imagine doing anything else. She was the single most fuckable woman I'd ever seen with those teardrop breasts. Her tanned skin extended all the way to her nipples. With that dark hair, she could've been a girl from Sicily. She wasn't Italian, but the fact she resembled the girls denied to me my whole life hardened my cock into steel.

My dad wanted me to date princesses. Debutantes. Blonde, high-maintenance trophy wives bred into high society, the polar opposite of my unrefined wife who drank Budweiser, wore cut-offs, and worked gold into masterpieces. She was better than all of them combined. She impressed me. She challenged me. She feared nothing.

Evie's stare drilled me. I'd never known a woman whose glare could make me feel like a chump. "Do what you came here to do, and then take your fucking rock when you leave."

Now you hate it?

She confused the shit out of me, but I was too aware of her nakedness and the taste of her honeyed cunt. Evie pulled away, wearing that damnable smirk. I buried a hand in her hair and slammed my lips into hers. I plastered her curvy body to the wall, swallowing her gasp.

"You're taking the opal."

"I don't want it."

Like hell. "For Christ's sake. It's not a bribe. I knew you'd like it. I wanted you to have it."

"Why?"

"You love everything about jewelry." My hands fell from her face, and I backed off so that her enticing scent no longer assaulted my senses. "What, the girl with the hard-on for gratitude has none for her husband?"

Evie flinched, her steel mask flickering. Then she crossed her arms over her breasts.

Unbelievable.

What did this woman want from me?

I let her get away with murder. I paid her bills. I kept her safe. I sacrificed my sanity to make her happy.

None of it worked.

Why wasn't she falling to her knees and thanking me? I'm grateful he'll never love me. I'm grateful he gives me plenty of space. I'm grateful he doesn't hit me.

Heaviness centered on my chest.

Perhaps I'd always be a monster to her-a man she'd been forced to marry who only cared about getting his dick wet.

Evie's touch wandered down my abdomen and across my belt. She made quick work of it, tossing it aside. She filled my belly with fire as she unbuttoned my slacks.

She grabbed my erection.

My breathing hitched. I thickened in her gentle grip. I caught her by the hair and kissed her. We exchanged sloppy, hot kisses, our energy frenzied. I turned her around and shoved her over the desk. Stood between her legs. I fisted my cock, my heartbeat throbbing beneath my fingers.

I could pull out.

I wanted to slap myself. I was going on thirty-eight but apparently, my cock still had the logic of a teenage boy.

You will get her knocked up.

With child.

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Pregnant.

Fuck, but it felt so good. A jolt zapped into me as my cock touched her silken entrance. I slid my shaft along her folds. My head nudged her. I retreated then dipped into the molten heat, barely enough to call it inside.

I almost seized her hips.

Stop, you moron.

Not like this.

I pulled away. I pictured things that'd kill my boner. None of them worked. My cock stabbed the air, glistening with the tease of pussy.

"Evie. Turn around, baby."

She did, her cheeks flushed.

The sight of her natural, plump tits and her hips opening wide stole my breath. It took an effort to kneel, and then I grasped her panties. Slowly, I moved them up her legs. Her velvety skin tempted me something fierce, and I could not stop touching. My gaze snapped up, colliding with her pussy.

Well, damn.

A taste wouldn't hurt.

My throat tightened as I leaned forward. I wedged my thumbs on either side of her cunt. Then I pulled her lips apart. Wet and wanting. So fucking hot. I kissed where she blushed.

Evie whimpered, the delicious sound tightening my balls.

Encouraged, I flicked my tongue into her wetness. Her body stiffened at first, but gradually she loosened and spread her thighs wider, allowing me deeper. As I fought against her tight pussy, my slacks bulged with my erection. The thought of plunging my cock inside her tingled my balls.

"I didn't come here to do this, but you're making me eat my goddamn words." I laughed at my stupid joke and kissed her swollen clit. "I can barely think straight. Everything is a roar in my head, except this one loud voice that's ordering me to fuck you. That doesn't make me a bastard, Evie. Especially when you rip off your clothes and taunt me with your perfect body."

My tongue delved into her, and I lapped up her sweet arousal. Her grip tightened on my hair. She stilled and seemed to hold her breath. The sounds of my eager mouth filled the air.

Evie let out a raspy moan that twitched my cock.

"Ohmigod."

"That's it. Lose yourself. Ride my face until you come."

Evie's breathing grew ragged. A whine burst from her lips when I stuck in my tongue as far as it'd go. Her arousal slipped down my tongue, and I drank every drop, yanking apart her clenched thighs. Evie seemed to lose her strength. She held on to the wooden counter, eyes shut.

"F-fuck. You feel so amazing. I-" Evie trailed off, her fingers diving into my hair. "No...no, I'm supposed to be mad at you."

"Then be mad, baby."

She moaned. "Fuck you."

I cracked my palm over her ass. "What's that?"

She dug into my scalp. "I-I said, fuck you."

I lifted her by her ass cheeks, her stomach pressed to my face. I kissed the velvety-soft skin as I laid her over the table scattered with sketches, displaying her to glass windows. I parted her legs and pushed my head between them, my tongue stroking her pussy before stabbing inside. I licked and sucked her clit, ramming into her tight bud. Evie writhed and utter sexy, female high-pitched groans.

Her hips rocked as I ate her out. Her thighs tightened on my face. She sighed, abandoning herself to pleasure as she gave rush hour traffic quite the show. Her hips chased my tongue, her pebbled nipples gliding under my hands. I swirled and flicked her clit, stopping her from climaxing to nip her thigh when she was close.

Five minutes later, I decided she could come. I closed my mouth on her and sucked.

A spasm rippled through her leg. She burst with a cry. She clenched around my face as her orgasm ripped through her and dug her heel in my head. Once she slumped over, chest heaving, I helped her off the table. I knelt and grabbed her panties and jeans, yanking them over her hips. Then I dressed. I'd have to jump into a freezing shower the second I got home.

"Let's get going."

"Where?"

"Home, and then out to dinner."

"Not Sanctum."

"No. Somewhere nice." I grasped her chin, and her grin curved into my fingers. "Would you like that?"

Her eyes gleamed. She seemed halfway between tears and joy. Maybe Evie wasn't crazy for listing every amenity-even hot water-in that journal. How would she react to the really good shit?

Evie nodded.

"I'll wait for you outside."

Later, I hooked Evie's arm and we walked into the rain-free night. Christian grinned like he swallowed a flight of canaries. He gave me a thumbs-up.

I flipped him off.

Evie's smile made me feel like I'd scaled Mt. Everest. "It's hard to know when to stop fighting you."

"Never."

"Seems like a long time."

"The moment you stop is when you lose-your life, your innocence, everything."

"It's mine to lose," she countered as we strolled to my car. "And that's not what scares you."

I opened the door. "I don't let myself get scared."

"Then why do you fight me so hard?" She stood still, her soft eyes melting. "What do you think might happen if I win?"

"Impossible."

"You better hope so...because I don't think you're ready to face what you might gain if I win."

"And what's that?"

"A life. A family." Her eyebrow arched. "Forgiveness?"

"Nothing that I deserve."

Her hand touched mine gently, a soft flicker of hope in a cold night. "But it's the only reason I keep fighting."