Mafia King: A Mafia Royals Novella by Rachel Dyken (books for 6 year olds to read themselves TXT) 📗

I grabbed his wrist, the washcloth frozen by my breasts. “And now? Now, what do you want?”

My pulse thudded in my ears as I waited.

He was my bodyguard.

But my brain never forgot about the badge he carried around.

And about what that meant with a last name like mine.

“Kiss.” He let out a rough exhale. “Definitely kiss.”

He flipped me around in his arms and lifted me against the tile wall, his mouth crashing against mine as I tried to match him kiss for kiss, tongue for tongue, his hips pressed into me, making it impossible not to feel the throbbing heat of him.

With a grunt, he pulled away, his green eyes gleaming with lust. “Is the safe word still Sea turtle?” He winked. “Just checking.”

My jaw hung a bit before I spoke. “Did you really just kiss me and make a joke like my dad wouldn’t murder you if he found out?”

“I kissed you, but you seduced me. Big difference.”

“I did not!” I put my hands on my hips. “I’ve never even—”

His mouth covered mine again, and with a whimper, I dug my hands into his hair, tugging at his golden-brown locks, shamelessly rubbing my body against his.

He broke away, panting. “Did, too. Every day for the last year, you’ve been tempting me to either strangle you or turn you over onto my knee and spank the hell out of you for being so argumentative…so, really, this is all your fault. I’m sure he’ll see it my way.”

“It was just one kiss,” I argued.

“Two.” And then he lowered his mouth again, a gorgeous smirk forming across his lips. “Three.” Another kiss. “Four.” He backed away.

With a growl, I pulled his head back. “What? Can’t count past four?”

He grinned against my mouth, then slowly lowered me to my feet.

“I really start to struggle when I get past five, yes.” Tank turned off the water and turned to walk away.

“Wait!” I started to shiver. “That’s it? You just confess you had a choice to kill or kiss me, then kiss me, then count way too high for your tiny brain, and now you’re just leaving me naked in a shower, dripping wet?”

“Dripping wet?” His eyebrows shot up as he checked me out slowly. “No, you’re not. But you will be.”

“You—you!”

His answer was to toss a towel at my face.

With a growl, I dried off then wrapped it around myself as I marched into the bedroom to give him a piece of my mind—only to have him hold a finger up to his lips for me to be quiet.

I nodded jerkily and stayed put as he slowly reached for the nightstand and pulled out a gun I didn’t even realize he’d been keeping there.

It was eerily quiet.

And then, a small creak sounded.

Followed by another.

For a man so large, he moved with the grace of a predator. Someone in all black suddenly flashed through the living room.

Tank dove after the person.

They both went crashing into the coffee table, scrambling onto the floor as Tank pinned him, punching him in the face repeatedly until blood caked his fingertips. The person looked as if they weren’t breathing.

“Is he dead?” I whispered.

Tank’s answer was to growl, get off the guy, then kick him as if he were testing to see if he was still breathing. “Grab my cell.”

I didn’t realize I was shaking until I grabbed his phone from his side of the bed and handed it to him.

He dialed a number, held it to his ear, and spoke in low tones. “Yeah, just one…no.” He looked back at me. “She’s safe. Uh-huh, cleanup won’t take long. No, she’s fine. I said she’s fine. Allow me to do my job. Thank you...” He hung up. “Your dad says he loves you and that if I touch you, I’ll die a horrible death. He did mention something about fire, gasoline, and chickens—honestly, the chickens freak me out the most.”

I just stared. “How are you even talking so casually? This guy just got the shit beat out of him, and he was spying on me—on us. What if he would have come into the bathroom?”

Tank shrugged. “Then I would have killed him, and we wouldn’t have broken the coffee table.”

I gulped. “Is this why Dad has you guarding me?”

“You tell me.” Tank’s eyes flashed. “Because a year ago at Valerian’s wedding, you were supposed to be kidnapped. It was going to be FBI-led. They wanted division between the Petrov Family and the rest of the Italians again. That’s all I was told. And the only thing that makes sense is that united, you’re too strong, and the FBI loses its foothold—the minute I make a choice they already knew I was going to make.”

All the breath I’d been holding left my chest as I locked eyes with him. I wondered in that moment if I would lose him.

Not just his anger.

His rage.

But also his teasing.

The way he held me.

The way he protected me, even when he wanted to do more than that.

And the way he touched me.

Was I damning myself?

And, at the end of the day, could I truly trust this man standing in front of me, asking to take the leap into his arms when I knew that the ending could end up in handcuffs or worse—death?

But my dad…he trusted him.

I loved my dad.

I would die for him.

So, if he said that Tank was my bodyguard, then I could trust him with my life.

Therefore, I opened my mouth and said, “You didn’t save me…” And burst into tears.

Chapter Nine

Tank

I didn’t know what to do.

But the last thing I needed was her bawling in front of the crime scene—or having whoever they sent seeing her upset and reporting back to Sergio.

So, I promptly scooped her into my arms, opened the sliding glass door, and walked out onto the beach until I found an empty Cabana with its sides pulled tight around it.

She was still sniffling when I sat down on one of