Chapter 17 – The Mafia Nanny (Davina & Gabriel) Novel Free

Alex’s gaze turned to her for a brief second, then back to me.

I tried to keep my gaze neutral.

“Hello,” she greeted quietly, then turned to Alex, but seemingly without a clue as to how to address the fearsome stranger.

Alex scared the shit out of everyone. He had tattoos on his neck and face. And he was as big as a brick outhouse. He gazed unsmiling, at her.

For a moment, I pitied her. He would watch her until he’d seen what he was looking for.

Awkwardly, she avoided his stare by looking at me.

I turned away to pick up my gun. I needed to shave the edge off. “Pick a gun from that rack,” I ordered, and fired off a shot.

She jumped in fright at the deafening bang.

When I turned to see her hand clutching her ch*st and the extent of fear in her eyes, it filled me with remorse for my stupidity. Why did I do it? Because I didn’t want Alex to know? Because she was turning me into an addict for her body? I’d never needed anyone before. I wanted them, I took them and after I had them, I discarded them. I’d never felt this craving.

Aware of Alex leaning against the table in the corner, I filtered the concern out of my voice and asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m not,” she answered. “I don’t want to be here.”

I felt a sudden fear that she would leave. Maybe I’d gone too far… and the fear shocked me senseless. I never cared if a woman stayed or left.

“You need to f**k her hard and quick,” Alex commented in Russian. “Get her out of your system, then dump her. She’s the wrong sort.”

His voice was like a bucket of ice dumped over my head.

With that, he rose to his feet and took his leave.

Davina

On my way to meet Gabriel, I had run into what seemed to be a man who’d been beaten into a literal bloodied pulp being dragged carelessly across the concrete yard. I got a glimpse of his face. It was so battered his eyes were swollen shut and his mouth hung open. Actually, he might’ve even been dead. There was something heavy and inert about his body.

Utterly horrified and shocked, I could do nothing but keep putting one step in front of the next. Igor, Gabriel’s driver pretended as if he’d seen nothing. We marched across the courtyard. My heart kept pounding in my ch*st.

Good God, I’d just seen a dead man!

For the first time, I started really looking around me. I was in a massive construction yard somewhere out in the East End. We reached the building and Igor opened the metal door and let me precede him. We were immediately in a corridor. We walked along it. We passed one room where the door was open and I could a see cluster of men with visible weapons tucked into their pants, puffing smoke from their mouths, and boisterous tones of Russian from their l*ps in hearty, or heated discussion, I couldn’t tell.

I knew only that they had pale dangerous faces.

Gabriel’s words the previous evening, the disappearing act, and the crazy-tight security around the house were already beginning to put images and ideas into my head that made my blood run cold. I’d been all mouth at breakfast, challenging a man whom I realized could quite possibly snap my neck in two with his bare hands, or more easily send one of these hefty Russian brutes I’d passed to handle the job.

But the gunshot. This was truly the last straw.

Somehow, without understanding a word of Russian, I knew Gabriel’s imposing companion had said something horrible about me. His coarse tone in the foreign language had reverberated through the room and scattered goose bumps across my flesh.

Gabriel wasn’t ordinary. I don’t know about the Queen being a reptile, but in this case, the tabloids were right. The Mafia angle wasn’t fake news.

When the Russian man left, he turned to me.

“Why?” I asked simply.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I could see in his eyes he was sincere, but like he almost didn’t know how to say the word. Maybe it was something people in his world did to people in my world just to see how we would react. It was a big risk. I could have gone to the police.

Whatever. I knew though he wasn’t going to snap my neck in half with his bare hands. Just like that, I felt the fear in my soul begin to dissipate and in its place, came the charge of primal desire that strung up my body without fail every time I came into his presence. It made me want to claw up along his torso and hang on for dear life… My bare br***ts against those pure slabs of muscle that was his ch*st, his cutting blue eyes on mine, and my t***ue in his mouth.

I shook my head in wonder at the new direction of my thoughts. How could I feel like having sex when I’d just seen a dead body? I must be going insane. This was madness. Wrong. All wrong. I needed to leave. And I had to leave now, before I became this unrecognizable person who got turned on after seeing a dead body. I should have just kept walking that day. But I will this time. This time I was serious.

“Davina,” he called.

I didn’t even look at him. I just put one foot in front of the other and kept going. I was leaving and nothing, but nothing would stop me.

Until the gun went off. He shot me!

I screamed, but whether it was all in my head, or sounded in reality, I couldn’t tell. My heart collapsed into my stomach. My hands rushed to my ears and my entire frame shivered in mind numbing terror. I felt certain that a hole had been bored somewhere through my body. I waited and waited to feel the pain, or perhaps feel nothing at all as I sl*pped into unconsciousness, but when I opened my eyes a lifetime later I saw the hole he had blasted instead through the concrete wall near where my head was.

I spun violently around, in such a rage that the tears spilled from my eyes. “Are you f**king out of your mind?” I screeched. Still reeling from the slam of my heart against the walls of my ch*st. I charged him. The shock and terror rendering me incoherent even as I shoved him violently. When the joint of one wrist twisted on contact with his rock-hard ch*st, and with no effect whatsoever on him, both of my arms shot out and attacked him, instead. He allowed me to rain blows on him until I slammed his back into the wall, my ch*st heaving with uncontrollable fury.

Effortlessly, he grabbed and held down both my hands. “Enough. Calm down. I wasn’t shooting at you,” he said, his gaze sharp, but his exp**ssion stoic and unreadable.

I knew I must be an unsightly mess. “Let go of me. I’m calm now,” I said through gritted teeth.

He let go of me and I struck a slap across his face. The sound reverberated as loud as the gunshot earlier. It was as though the time froze. I glared at him, until the madness left my blood, my senses came back and the reality of what I’d just done set in.

My hand covered my mouth in shock as I gazed at the imprint of my palm on his skin. “I-I didn’t mean to do that. I’m—I—I…” I tried to say, but it was as though I’d forgotten how to speak. I stepped back in fear, sure that whatever happened, I wouldn’t leave here unscathed for what I’d just done. Then I turned around and sprinted for the door, but before I got more than a stride away, I felt a painful hold around my waist.

It lifted me clear of the floor, my legs, thrashing in protest.

“Let me go!” I cried, but everything was silenced when he turned me around and crushed his l*ps to mine. My body was pinned tight against him. My legs were off the floor, my neck twisted to accommodate his w*t hot beast of a t***ue as it plunged into my mouth. I should have bitten it, but like Pavlov’s dog, I s**ked on it automatically, shamelessly.

His k**s tasted like heaven and hell at the same time; lovely, life-giving heat and the coldest of chills. I couldn’t bare for him to stop, but at the same time, another part of me stood and watched in astonished horror, wishing he had never placed his mouth on mine. I began to push against him, but came to the conclusion that my resistance was all in my head rather than in my actual limbs, since he didn’t seem to be stopping and neither was I.

I turned in his arms when my brain eventually shut down and chased the thrill, chased the fire, and allowed the most delicious man I had ever tasted to devour me.

The breath was knocked out of me as somehow, my back ended up against the wall. I took great, big gasping breaths when finally, he broke the k**s and buried his face in my neck, his l*ps, tasting, nipping, and s**king at the tender skin there. I held on to his shirt for dear life, not sure if I was pushing him away or trying to find a way to somehow submerge myself into him.

“You bastard,” I heard myself say, memories of the fight floating somewhere amidst the mix off maddening euphoria. “I’m sorry,” I heard myself apologize thereafter. I was sure I had lost my mind.

His l*ps returned to mine, and I lost all coherence again.

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