The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

I’m being ridiculous.
“You did.” I smile shyly, knowing he did, can’t deny it really and stare at the desk instead, aware of both of their eyes eating into
me now, and once again that overly heavy uneasiness comes over me. I jump when Alexi touches my shoulder to pull my
attention to him.
“Mico is the one person I trust most in the world, besides you ... and sometimes my idiot brother.” He jokes in afterthought. That
soft, subtle hint of a smile, his voice husky and affectionate, so much depth and meaning in so few words. The way his pale eyes
bore into mine as he says it sets my nerves tingling and heart hammering in my chest in a gooey, lovesick weirdo way that only
adds to the blush spreading across my cheekbones.
“I’ll give you two some privacy. I need to go check on the men, anyway.” Mico shifts from his perch, hearing the change in Alexi
and sensing the heaviness of the moment and gets up. He knows when two people need a few moments to have themselves
something intimate. Leaving rapidly, which only makes me blush even more.
“Think you made him feel awkward.” I point out to Alexi, but he just leans in and cages me in by resting his palms on either side
of my chair, so his face comes level with mine and I have no escape. This close it’s easy to completely lose yourself in that
handsome face and alluring set of eyes. He smells edible, like always and that subtle aftershave he always wears surrounds me
warmly. I stare at his mouth with that inevitable longing to be kissed, whenever he gets close.
“I think he could sense how much I wanted to do this.” Alexi moves in deliberately, using his nose to brush against mine and
ignite a million sensations. He tilts his head as he angles to kiss me properly. This time slow and smooth as he finds my mouth,
connects us faultlessly and teases my lips open with his. His hands automatically sliding into my hair behind my ears so he can
gently hold me and holds himself in an awkward position to kiss me properly.
My hands move up to cradle his jawline, strong and defined although spiky with five o’clock shadow as I kiss him back. That
rough grate against my skin, his face against mine which feels highly erotic. I move in to make it more passionate and use my
tongue to trace his, as I too get lost in pressing us together as close as is humanly possible. That soft stomach fluttering slide of
his against mine. Our mouths locked as he kisses the sense right out of me with a practised technique.
Alexi kisses in a way that suits me perfectly. As though we were always meant to do this to each other, synced by nature and
moulded to be a snug fit. As I lose myself in the familiar feel and taste of him, surrendering every part of myself to the hot igniting
passion that grows between us, I’m aware my underwear heats and my lady parts hint that maybe a service would be a good

thing. That tense, yearning ache that comes on when you desperately want sex. Knees pressing together to combat my stomach
tying itself in knots as my toes curl from his attention.
Sex is a no-go because of trust, but it doesn’t stop my body craving him every time he touches me. Our chemistry is still as
strong as it’s always been and right now, I want to devour him whole. My temperature soars and skin prickles. Straight back to
when I was fuelled by alcohol and my brain took a long break to dumbland.
He’s breaking me down with every day I get to experience this side of him, and the longing for sex is almost killing me with a
fever of crazy horniness caused by this man. My body ups a gear so quickly, aching to feel him inside me again as memories of
how well we fit together sends little explosions from my inner thighs up through my core and into my lower abdomen—just from a
kiss. The first hints of how easily I would achieve an orgasm when this turned on. I don’t think it would take much.
Alexi slides his hands behind me, down to my waist to encircle me tightly and pulls me out of the chair and into the open space
between his feet, pulling us back so he can straighten. He has his butt against the desk, sat slightly so I’m nearly his height like
this. I end up cradled right against him, between his legs snugly, arms wrapped around me so he can continue to kiss me
senseless. All while feeling every part of my body moulded to his hard, seductive form, like a full-on, every inch pressed together
puzzle piece. He has the body of a god.
My blood is pumping fast, body on fire with desire as I wrap my arms around his neck and let go completely. Abandoning all
reasoning in my lust-fuelled haze. Fingers trailing the collar of his T-shirt while being cradled tightly in his arms, pressed against
that strong chest. They somehow find their way down his abdomen, squeezing between us and underneath his clothes to trace
out a sculpted six pack and the waistband of his sweats. Tempted to pull them towards me and go fishing for what I want the
most. Alexi’s hands move and slide down my curves, one hand to my thigh before he slides it up and under the hem of my dress
and pulls me sharply to him so I can’t feel him out anymore, crushing my own hands flat between us. His other around my waist
inching down to my arse.
Alexi finds it easily, the other hand following suit, smoothing his fingers down to cup both cheeks, gripping, pulling me hard
against his groin with a little aggressive grasping that only makes me crave him more. His tongue caresses mine expertly,
muffling my moans of pleasure. He has me feeling all kinds of sexy and desirable as he slides over my body and feels out every
part of me with a raw hunger that is almost primal.
This man has me groaning, panting, writhing against his growing erection and we have to come up for air before I self-combust. I
literally let him grope me senseless while investigating every inch of my mouth with his. Fever pitch heat emanating between us
as we both break free to catch our breath.

Both struggling to inhale properly, we stay together breathlessly with nose tips touching and eyes locked intensely. He turns me,
guiding my body in his usual domineering manner so I get butted against the desk instead. Eyes never leaving mine, inhaling
each other’s air.
His hands slide to my thighs, push up my dress to pants level and he grips them and lifts me up, so my hands fly to his chest to
steady myself. He perches my butt on the desk in a fluid motion and my feet dangle free of the floor, opening my knees to get as
close as he can. He slides my dress further up my thighs, so it doesn’t restrict me, and exposes my underwear fully before he
dives in again to kiss me dizzy. His obvious erection pushes against my scant lace underwear, which is throbbing with intense
heat and I flinch with the contact, groaning under my breath at just how much it arouses me.
This time I have him between my thighs where he feels a little too good, and I swear if the fabric of our clothes were not a barrier
right now, I would let him take me here and now. Such little willpower. I’m so wet my underwear is soaking through as we
continue and part of me just wants him to take one of those hands and fondle so I can get a little relief. He isn’t venturing
anywhere near though. Hands on my hips, tongue in my mouth, groin pressed hard against my pelvis, but he is behaving in a
very gentlemanly manner concerning touching. Alexi is not angling for sex, just pushing me to the heights of horny because he
can.
And he knows he can do it too. Always got to have his little kick of control.
I don’t want to stop though.
God, I want him to keep going, rip my knickers off and take me on the desk like a caveman. We both know Alexi is a sex god
when that crazy aggressive desire is unleashed. I can almost taste how much I want it. He has me going crazy with desire.
Pressing into him, hauling at him to get closer and biting his lip. Kissing him with a ravenous appetite, fingers trawling his neck
and scalp. I get my knees up at his hips and press him to try and urge a little dry humping, wrapping my legs around him to try to
pull him on top of me. Alexi just continues devouring me with sensual, hot kisses and his hands stay firmly where they are.
I want sex. I want sex. I want sex now, right here, this goddamn second, before I scream. Jesus, I SO WANT SEX!
And therein lies my fear. How willing I am to just let him take that final step back to sex and power over me and its insanely
stupid. Like I’ve learned nothing from the past and have no desire to protect myself from history repeating itself. I’m so dumb
sometimes. I have zero will to stop this, in fact, I don’t even try. Just kiss harder, deeper, run my hands down his front and
massage his bulge to make it clear I want him to fuck me.

There’s a knock on the door and I pounce away from him guiltily, leaning back and creating distance, shame washing over me
that I’m literally this weak anytime he gets those lips near mine and push him back as I struggle to the floor. Sense hitting hard,
hands removed from his crotch while he grins at me for that last fondle and something deep inside of me yells curse words at my
lack of willpower.
It’s not the most ladylike of efforts, but as reality slaps me around the head that thirty seconds more and I would have been on
my knees sucking the hell out of him, goading him to let me screw him on the desk, it’s a sobering shake.
Alexi looks bemused, almost as though he can hear all my thoughts and he knows where we were heading, but helps me get
back on my feet, with my dress smoothed down again before calling out.
“Come in.”
He watches me right myself and I press my palms to my cheeks to cool the heat that is flushing all over my body. Heart bursting
out of my chest as though we just had a sex marathon all over the office and strangely antsy that it got interrupted.
I can feel his eyes devouring me like a predator as I move away, sense tells me it is lust based rather than that he wants to slay
me for dinner, and it doesn’t help me calm my frazzled nerves or sizzling libido in the slightest. I can’t help the rush of excitement
at that little thought, he wants me as much as I want him and push it down deep to bury it in the depths of my stomach.
BOB needs to spend a long busy night with me later, to get rid of some of this pent-up crazy. A good few orgasms on my battery-
operated fuck buddy should curb some of this insane craving. If Alexi wants to bed share, I may have to tend to myself in the
bathroom first.
“Mr Carrero.” It’s one of his drivers and he looks perplexed as he takes in my flushed and wrinkled self, trying to act innocent and
failing if the heavy breathing I have going on and his boss looking like a guy who may start dry humping my leg is anything to go
by. Sporting the hints of a trouser tent that is trying to go down. Alexi instantly reverts to his hard, cold manner. Face closing to
deadpan and aura of aggressive psycho like a cloak sweeping over him.
I guess the poor driver can feel the sizzling sexual tension in the air, judging by his apologetic manner. It’s thick as city smog and
what he may have just interrupted with his timely intrusion.
“What?” Alexi snaps a little harshly, obviously frustrated and then clears his throat, tenses his neck from side to side and looks at
the man in a much more controlled way. Lack of getting further affecting him too, even if he wanted to act like it didn’t. It’s all over
him now. That hostile sex starved manner of a man who got turned on and can’t do shit about it. I wonder if he’s a man who self-
pleasures. We might both be hiding in our bathrooms later and having a cold shower before sharing a bed tonight.

“Your date last night left this in the car, and I didn’t know if you wanted me to return it.” He holds up a fur capelet, dangling it like
a dead animal in the suddenly deathly silent room and everything in me literally turns to ashes and falls around my feet in the
most heart-stopping, brutal and crushing way.
I spin on the man, eyes widening to huge proportions in gasping horror, heart plummeting and just gawp at him horrendously.
“Your what?”
I spit the question at him venomously, unable to control the outburst of shocked pain that hits me and bubbles forth, and the
strained tone in my voice betraying the instant hurt. Like a stab to the chest as those words filter through my brain and I realise
that I’ve been living in a fantasy land and forgetting exactly who this arsehole really is.
A date! A fucking date with a fucking woman, who left part of her wardrobe in his goddamn car.
I’m such a complete and utter blind moron.
It’s like all those niggles of mistrust and disbelief just burst all over my head and pour over me like icy cold water. All the reasons
I kept telling myself to keep my guard up. Here they are—staring me in the bloody face as they shatter my soul to pieces.
Last night when he fucked off all night with Santagato and then showed up on the club floor already showered and changed. He
had a date ... he had a date all night, away from me, with another woman, followed by a shower ... which can only mean ...
Oh, my God.
There is only one reason you shower before presenting yourself to the woman you are meant to be dating. To hide the stench of
a cheap whore on your skin.
I feel sick at the thought of him screwing some harpy and then coming and lying in bed with me, giving me all this bullshit about
me being who he wants. All that last night, cuddling up, sweet caresses and gentle words. It’s all fucking shit, nothing but ashes
in my mouth now as I realise; he hasn’t cared about pushing for sex because he’s still getting it elsewhere. It’s all just fake and
empty promises and exactly what I should have expected.
“Burn it, I don’t give a shit.” Alexi sounds angry, but my seething rage built from aching pain is all-consuming and I turn on him
fiercely. Blinded to the fact he has someone here with us by the utter incontrollable heartbreak I’m experiencing.
I fucking believed him when he said he loved me. Even when I told myself I didn’t ... this is the proof that I did. This pain, this
slicing my soul into tiny shards of sharp glass. The splintering of a heart that never fully recovered from the first time.

“Your fucking WHAT? I hiss at him again, gritting my teeth to try to control the spiralling emotions I cannot contain. The hysteria
of a crazy lady growing bigger than I can contain and ripping through my skull at a rate of knots.
This is bigger than anything I have ever felt in my life, and I wonder if this is how betrayal really feels when it’s someone you
love. Unleashing the crazy in me as jealousy devours my soul and turns my heart to stone. It cuts deeper than anything he did
before; because this time, I stupidly dared to hope and believe. He ripped the rug out from under me.
Alexi stays fixed and motionless, eyes on his driver and shakes his head subtly. Maintaining that uncaring and controlled manner
and concealing that he even gives a shit about my outburst. I no longer care about keeping us a secret, I couldn’t give a toss
about appearances or who fucking knows about us right now. I’m so volcanic I want the whole world to hear me screaming at this
tosspot. I’m physically clawing myself to stop a violent attack on his face.
“You can go,” he commands, and the man scurries off like a scared puppy, pulling the door behind him quickly; because he
realises, he just started a shit storm in here. He may not know we are a ‘thing’, but he recognises a woman about to turn
murderous psycho time bomb when he sees one.
Alexi doesn’t even turn my way with the click of the door meeting frame.
“Don’t do that. You know how things work, don’t turn this into something it’s not.” He dismisses me with an even, bored tone and
moves to put space between us, completely ignoring the red mist I have hovering over my head. My breathing is so insanely
heavy I’m almost hyperventilating, and he just turns up the dial with that reaction. I can’t think straight. My head stammering and
heart bleeding as I try to grasp a sense of this, stuck to this spot and unable to physically move because I am stone cold stiff with
sheer rage.
He lied to me.
He betrayed me.
“What it’s not? Do you mean a fucking date? You had a fucking date, Alexi, while telling me I’m what you want!!” I sound insane,
my voice at dog whistle level and hoarse like I’m screeching even though I’m not. He just tenses, hostility overcoming him
because I have learnt that you never question Alexi angrily. It enrages that inner psycho in him and puts him on the aggressive
defensive even when he is in the wrong. That whole combative trigger of his that brings out his dickhead side.
I don’t fucking care right now; my heart is breaking all over again.

“I had an escort. For appearances. Don’t overreact.” His tone is tight, and I can tell it’s through gritted teeth because he is trying
to keep his temper under control and not let this escalate. He walks to the drinks cabinet and fusses with glasses to pour himself
a drink, giving himself a focus that’s not me, and I wonder if this is his way of trying to curb an outburst. I, on the other hand,
want to poke and jam sticks in that twat of a bear and get some goddamn straight answers. My heart’s pounding so hard out of
my chest it’s actually painful. I feel like you could see it thumping out of my ribs.
“Did you fuck her? Before coming home to me.” It’s almost a wail, but enough venom that you really cannot tell if its rage or
devastation. I’m trembling all over, legs weakening as my limbs start to sag. My eyes stinging with tears as they build up, but I
won’t let myself fall apart over this dickhead of a man. I should have known.
I should have bloody known I could never trust him.
“No. Don’t be stupid. You’re overreacting; use your head, Cam.” Alexi is pissed at me being pissed at him. Lord of not
communicating and shutting down on me, expecting me to just accept his explanation and be done with it. Not even a fucking
sorry. Just his word is law and I’m in the wrong for being affected by it.
How fucking dare he.
“I don’t believe you. You kept it from me, you showered before coming near me. Why else would you do that if you hadn’t fucked
her? So I wouldn’t smell her?” I’m losing the battle against my own tears and my eyes are filling with warm fluid, blurring my
vision. My pulse feels like its throbbing through every inch of my skin. There’re horrible skin crawling tingles covering me from
head to foot, like ants running all over, only their legs are as sharp as razor blades. It’s physical pain, every inch of me.
“Because I stank of smoke, booze and cheap perfume from Santagato’s strip club. I hate smelling that way, so I showered. Big
fucking deal.” A shrug, a casual toss of a glance at me before he downs his drink and sets up another. Adding booze to the
problem. Acting distant, hostile and domineering.
I remember him saying he uses alcohol to self-medicate and I wonder what it’s doing for him now? Calming, stopping him
blowing his shit at me? Or just helping him lie and evade me so I don’t see the truth?
“You’re a liar. The only way you could stink of cheap perfume is by having physical contact with the whore wearing it. To think I
actually believed you would not touch another woman ... ha fucking ha! I should have known that the lack of pushing for sex was
a sign you were getting it elsewhere. You don’t change. I hope she’s worth it.”
I have reached that level of shouting where I’m sure everyone on this floor can hear me, and the angrier I get, the more
controlled and calm he seems to get. Alexi is turning inwards. All that anger and hostility is being clung onto and pushed down to

appear indifferent to me and freezing me out.
Classic fucking Alexi.
Leopard never changes its spots. Sadly, for me, it’s all the proof I need that he will always be an arsehole incapable of being
what I need.
“It’s a strip club!! Of course, women pushed themselves up against me, it’s what he pays them to do. Doesn’t mean I did anything
about it.” His tone is frosty, to say the least. Eyes boring into me across the room like knives with a backwards scowl and yet I
cannot read him at all anymore. All his tells are gone, his manner cold and his eyes so stormy grey now I lose my courage and
look away. That tremor of fear in me when connecting to an older version of him and all my faith, hopes and dreams shatter to
the floor.
The energy in the room bubbling between us as two hotheads take different approaches to be raging mad at each other. I’m not
him, I cannot cool my jets when faced with a pain that could kill me. I want to rip his stupid fat head off.
“Sure ... right ... the man who couldn’t help himself from having a new whore every night he was here, but if it was me and I let
some man paw at me, you would rip his throat out. It’s me, so I’m overreacting. I’m in the wrong for you being a cheating fucktard
who can’t keep his hands to himself!” It’s a mess of torn words from a raw, strained throat, mixed with a waterfall of unshed tears
as I try to hold them in.
I never knew something could hurt like this.
“I have self-control, I’m not a dog who has to bone everything that tries to give me an erection. I also haven’t cheated on you. I
told you I wouldn’t be with another woman and I meant it.” Simmering scowl, he is losing his cool even though he is trying. The
voice raspier as he matches my more laboured breathing.
“I don’t believe you. It’s what you do. You cannot help yourself from being a complete prick. Is this why you don’t push me for sex
... because you are getting it on tap anyway? ANSWER ME!!”
I erupt. True psychotic scream at him, a release of so much pressure and the tears burst forth.
“Jesus Christ.” Alexi glares at me furiously, finally snapping that mask in half at my sudden savage explosion.
“No, London. I am not pushing you for sex because you don’t want me to! I am trying to establish trust and it’s obvious that’s not
working if this is anything to go by.”

“Why should I trust you? All you have ever done is use sex and women to hurt me and now this ... you left me here after treating
me like shit to go spend a night and do God knows what with some slapper you probably took from downstairs. You don’t care
about me, you never did.”
That little flash of something in his eye hits me like a thunderbolt, I catch it even though It’s so fleeting I almost miss it through
blurry vision, and I realise I’m right. He did take one of the whores from this very club, right under my fucking nose. That little tiny
hesitation and the way he turns his back on me to hide it was a tell. I hit the nail on the head in grand fashion.
“Oh, my God!! You are a wanker!!” I scream it at him again and he spins to face me like the scary crazy devil he can be. That
aggressive asshole from Miami who yelled in my face and called me a whore.
“You know what ... you’re right. She was from the club, not that it matters because NOTHING FUCKING HAPPENED!! Fuck
THIS ... fuck US ... fuck IT! Go tantrum elsewhere as I really cannot handle this bullshit with you. I am not lying to you and I
have done nothing wrong. Last thing I need is a jealous psycho act because I dared to take some other female out to dinner to
cover what we have going on. If you can’t see that then get out of my fucking face. I can do no right with you.”
“You are a fucking cunt of epic proportions, you know that? Well, you can go piss off and screw whatever tramp you want. I’m not
stupid enough to cling on like some sad Hoe-Anne for the scraps you throw my way. I won’t let you use other women against me
ever again, or mess with my head, twisting everything so I’m the one in the wrong. Narcissistic prick!” I break into a tirade of
crazy ranting, yelling at him, tears breaking loose all over my face and down my neck with the sheer volume, and hating myself
for lowering myself to use the C word. Alexi stiffens, grits his teeth and clenches his jaw so it squares off devilishly, and goes
back to pouring his amber liquid and then drinks it in a jerky, angry motion, as though to blank me out. He doesn’t even look my
way. Just shakes his head and refuses to engage anymore.
“Wanker.”
Completely blanks me, stares at the wall and blocks me out.
It’s all I need to flip that switch. I storm past him, pushing him bodily from behind as hard as I can and with all my might. I want to
physically hurt him. Both palms on his shoulder blades so he falls forward into the cabinet with a slight thud and the glass bottles
and such clink while something falls over and pours everywhere. He uses his free hand to brace himself against the wall to stop
himself tumbling over. It’s a shock to him as he didn’t see it coming but I have not one single regret. I only wish I was stronger
and could have pushed him through the bloody wall.

I don’t stop for his reaction to my assault, because I don’t care if he chases me down and fucking spanks me black and blue. I
yank open the office door and literally storm towards the lift, in a cloud of black hatred and hell hath no fury scowl on my tear-
stained face.
We are done. It’s over. I hate him.
“Camilla?” Mico’s voice follows me.
“Don’t! Leave me alone. Go tell him if he has any sense, he will do the fucking same.” I snap and stab the button beside the
closed door and will it to appear, not wanting to turn and look his way. I can feel eyes on me, and I know the difference between
Alexi and Mico by sensation alone. Alexi is in the office glaring at me from his position, letting me storm off to blow out no doubt.
Mico is keeping his distance while my back is to him and thankfully the door opens immediately. Mico follows quickly and stops it
shutting as I stand inside, shaking with rage and tears pouring down my cheeks once more. Makeup tinted splashes landing on
my dress and I just stare at them.
“What’s happened?” He looks completely alarmed, eyes wide and furrowed concern etched on his face. For a moment guilt
gnaws at me for yelling at him. Mico hasn’t done anything wrong.
“Ask that wanker or maybe his fucking date.” I slap Mico’s hand away, despite my moment of regret, as he stops the door from
closing, again igniting my temper. He instantly goes from a look of concern to a look of ‘ahh’ in about two seconds flat.
Registering why I might suddenly flip my shit after the cosiness of a few minutes ago.
“It wasn’t like that. He’s crazy about you ... you’re taking this the ...” He doesn’t get to finish as the doors close on him, cutting
him off thankfully, and I’m whisked downstairs by the magic of modern technology. Curling myself up in my arms and trying to
breathe through snotty sobs while stopping myself having simultaneous traumatic aneurisms and a major heart attack.
I literally cannot breathe.