Page 77 of Mafia Obsession

“I’ll move.”

“Don’t you dare.” He keeps me in front of him and presses his stiff erection against my ass.

“Yes,boss,” I say, since heistechnically my boss.

And I notice all the guards call him that, too. And not just because he employs them.

He is themafiaboss.

Ares directs us to a quiet, calm stretch of water. Cliffs look hazy in the distance, and the clear blue around us is postcard-worthy.

I want to take pictures of everything. Once I’m back in New York facing everything surrounding David, the pictures and the memory of this place will be the only joy in my life. I want to remember how this feels. Store it somewhere safe. Whatever this is, it isn’t meant to last. I can live another life in the realm of my memories with Ares when I’m far, far away in Chicago.

Ares leans forward to monitor something on the digital screen above the throttle. His focus on the water is so damn sexy. The Greeks are legendary shipping moguls and seem to have an inherent knowledge of boats and water.

“This is the area I need to check,” he says and cuts the engine.

The sudden silence, with just soft waves lapping against theboat, feels intimate. The anchor dropping with its metallic clinking breaks that quiet.

I look overboard. “Check where?”

“Below,” he responds, toeing off his boat shoes.

“Below, as in the water?” I lean over the side. “How deep is it?”

“Not that deep. I’ve dived in darker waters.” He deftly unbuttons and removes his shirt.

With it gone, shirtless Ares is the image I might whip out my phone for to keep forever.

He smirks cockily at my dropped jaw. “Keep looking. I like it.”

“If you say so,” I say and rest my face in my hand to ogle him.

“I can say more.” He slides off his pants, and that man’s swimsuit should come with a warning label.

It’s not a speedo. It’s a skintight swim short that professional divers wear. His cock is a teasing visible bulge below the waistband.

He moves closer and hovers his lips over my mouth. “Like what you see?”

“Very much.” I have no need to lie, to fight the attraction between us any longer. I’m going to let him take me sooner or later.

As his lips flutter over mine, I’m desperate for it to be sooner.

“I’ll show you more. Later, if you let me.” He walks to the stern of the boat and pushes open a door to descend to the swimming platform.

A response is coming together on my tongue, but seeing him lean over the railing to dive, I say, “You’re checking the shelf without any gear?”

Removing his watch, he says, “Correct. I can hold my breath long enough. Keep this for me.”

He tosses his Rolex, and I catch it, trying not to act gob-smacked at its worth.

“Be careful down there,” I call out.

“Without breathing gear, I can’t stay down there longenough for anything to happen to me. Regardless, I wouldn’t keep you waiting here alone that long even if I had a full tank of oxygen.” After giving me a devilish smile, Ares dives smoothly into the glass surface of the water.

I exhale and sit on the back bench. I look down at the watch and notice he’s set the timer. It reads forty seconds. How long can he hold his breath? My heart starts pounding. He confirmed by radar that this was the spot he needed to check.

Too stressed to keep watching the spot where Ares dove, I glance further out and notice the boats off in the distance. And more on the other side. Standing up, I see we’re surrounded by them. Spotting a pair of binoculars hanging on a hook, I grab them to get a closer look.