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“Hi, Ruby,” he greets, undoing the buttons on his shirt.
“Tell him hello.”
“She says hi.” My eyes stay locked on him as he undresses.
“How’d the interview go?”
“It went well. I’ll probably be working there in the next two months.”
“That’s so exciting!”
“I agree.”
“Are you settled into your new place?”
Vicente tosses his shirt aside, stealing my focus, so I turn around. “Yes, I’ve unpacked everything, and I never want to move again.”
Mom laughs. “I don’t blame you. Well, I just wanted to check in. I won’t keep you. Call me later.”
“Okay, Mom. Love you.”
“Love you, sweetie. Tell Vicente bye.”
“Will do.”
“Mom says—”
Before I can finish, I feel him at my back, his hands drawing my underwear down my thighs.
“She said what?”
“Bye,” I reply with a whispery breath. “She seems to really like you.”
“I’ve used my charms on her. I have to have one parent on my side.”
Vicente met my mom for the first time a month and a half ago. We took a trip to her house where we sat down and had a meal together. I could tell she was thrown off by his age at first, and the fact that she knows he’s in the mafia. She questioned him like any parent would question the boyfriend of their daughter, but he handled it well.
The second time we met up was at my apartment a few weeks ago when we were clearing it out. Vicente left to grab us lunch and coffee and mom said,he’s not too bad.
We just got together three days ago, here at our apartment in Clover. We decided it was best I move in with him. We were always together anyway, and it didn’t make sense to pay for my apartment when I was with him most of the time.
Now, we bounce between here and Cannon Grove, using the weekends to get away from the city.
Mom has decided she doesn’t want to be in touch with my father, but I’ve talked to him a couple times. We don’t get together, because I know how it would look to anybody else. I’m Vicente’s woman, and if I’m seen with the boss of the Italian family it can bring trouble nobody wants. I’ve only communicated with him over the phone, but it remains a little awkward.
Vicente bends me over the counter before dropping to his knees behind me. “I want to taste you.”
“Okay,” I breathe.
He spreads my cheeks and devours me, his tongue letting no intimate space go unnoticed. I cling to the edges of the counter, enjoying every second his magical mouth is on me.
“I have to be inside you,” he growls before penetrating me with his tongue.
I let out a sinful moan. “Yes.”
He’s at my back, holding me tight as his erection strains through his pants and grinds against my ass. “How do you want it?” he asks in a husky tone, his mouth at my ear.
I spin around, ideas bouncing in my head. “What if I don’t?”
