The Power of a Woman: A Mafia Erotic Romance (27 page)

He pressed his lips against mine softly. Then he tilted his head and repeated the movement as though he wanted to taste me from every angle. His exhale swept against my face as his tongue took over. His hands moved, digging into my hips, and I pressed my pelvic bone against his already bulging zipper.

He was a weakness for me, just like I was for him. There was no fucking doubt about it. These days, I wasn’t perfect at anything. However, my eyes were wide open and focused now. Focused on him, and not the invisible scars that once tainted my soul.

He pulled back enough to peer into my eyes. “Have I ever told you what that mouth—
your
mouth—does to me?”

I shook my head, and he released a heavy sigh before driving his fingers through his hair. That one move alone had my thighs clenching tighter than I cared to admit.

He tucked a stray curl behind my ear. His smirk was my heroin.

I stepped back and looked around, suddenly concerned where he’d even come from, concerned about my father’s men catching us. We still had to play it safe around the family, not needing eyebrows to be raised. But I realized we were hidden behind the trees, shadowed in their protection.

“How did you know I was here?” I asked curiously.

His hands reached into his overcoat, producing a cold bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap and handed it to me. “You’re my wife, and it’s my job to know where you are. It’s my job to make sure you’re taken care of. I can’t believe you left for a run without water. You need to stay hydrated.”

“Thank you,” I said, accepting it graciously. But as I took a healthy guzzle, I lost myself in the word “wife” and the reality of it all.

He kissed my forehead and stepped away. “You should take an anti-inflammatory when you get home and soak in a warm bath. You’re going to be sore from not stretching enough.” And with that, he was gone, vanished as quickly as he’d appeared.

Just as he disappeared through the trees, I heard panting coming from behind me and knew the fuck nuts were closing back in.

Feeling better, more content and centered, I finished my run home with thoughts of Stefan on my mind. Thoughts of our future, our life…not my past, not my scars. My mind was clear and my confidence back, leaving no room for the arrogance or insecurities I once had.

I received a text from Stefan the next day just after dinner that simply said:
Meet me. My place at ten
. I’d sent him a message back, asking him what I needed to wear, but it went unanswered. I guess he wanted the meeting to be mysterious.

My body craved him, and knowing I’d be getting what I wanted had filled me with excitement and desire. It seemed like forever ago since we’d last been able to be together—like really together, not against a wall or in a bathroom stall, or sharing a quick, sweaty kiss on a dirt path. My thighs quaked as I contemplated what he had planned. Even though it didn’t matter, because I was all in no matter what it was. I ached for him. I needed him. I
had
to have him. A week, an hour, even a day without his demanding lips, his rough hands, and his hard body had me on edge. I needed him the same way an addict needs their next fix. That’s what Stefan was to me—an addiction. His love, his touches, his words and actions were everything I was addicted to, and I’d never get my fill of them. I could overdose on him and it still wouldn’t be enough.

I was dressed in a simple off the shoulder dress. The one I’d know he’d find impossible to ignore. He had an obsession for my collarbone and loved to trace his fingers across it whenever he could.

I was ready to go by nine, eager for the time to go by faster. Stefan had a way of turning me into a teenage girl all over again. He set swarms of butterflies free in my stomach, left me lightheaded as if I’d just spent an hour dangling upside down on monkey bars, and permanently etched a smile onto my face. And I loved every part of it.

I hated acting and feeling like a female. Now, don’t get me wrong. I
loved
being a woman. I loved the power it gave me, the freedom it offered, and the allure it gifted me. But females came with a bad stigma. They were viewed as weak, incompetent fools in a man’s world. And why? Probably because most of them are. How often do you hear of a man waiting around like a lost puppy for his lover to leave her husband? You don’t. And why? Because men are too proud to do that shit. However, mistresses are a dime a dozen. They believe a man when he says he wants to leave his wife, but can’t right now because of one excuse after another. They believe him when he cries about how sad his marriage is, and are convinced that if he’d met her first, they’d be happily married. Bullshit. Truth is, had he met her first, she’d be the wife left at home to care for his kids while he was out fucking some other bitch.

See? Women…pathetic.

Grow some fucking balls. Go after what you want, and take it. If he really loved you, he’d have you—and no one else. Plain and simple. If he calls you late at night…he wants to fuck. If he can only see you at your place…he wants to fuck. If he only has an hour…he wants to fuck. Get it? Good. Stop being weak. Stop being his bitch that he fucks any time he feels like it.

But there are moments when no matter how hard you try to stay strong, those female hormones surface. Those times piss me the fuck off. However, right now, that’s not what was happening. No. Not even close. Yes, Stefan had a way of making me feel like a female, but not in the weak way. Not in the pathetic way. But in the way that makes my cheeks flush, my heart pound, my knees weak. In the way the makes my panties wet, my clit throb, my nipples harden. In all the good ways. All the essential and important ways.

And as I watched the second hand on the clock tick by, that’s exactly how I felt. Feminine. Yet at the same time, I replayed his dirty words from the courthouse bathroom, and it empowered me. I remembered the feel of his breath on my neck and it enforced everything I’d come to terms with.

It excited me.

He
excited me.

Finally, the time came to leave. My pulse pounded a staccato rhythm in my throat, making it difficult to swallow. I grabbed my coat and purse, and headed down the stairs, only to find my father at the bottom, as if waiting for me.

“Where are you going, Jordana?” The way he asked almost made me believe he knew of my plans to meet up Stefan, but I knew that couldn’t be.

“I’m meeting some friends for a drink. Catch-up time. I’ve been stuck inside for too long, and I need my girls.” I kissed his cheek and acted as if everything was normal, because it was. Things couldn’t get any more normal than this. Stefan and I together was my normal. My forever. My everything.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, sweetheart. It’s late.”

I cocked my head to the side and gently pressed my palm against his cheek. “Daddy, I’ll be fine. Nothing will happen to me. I won’t get hurt.”
Or maybe I will, but I can guarantee I’ll like it
.

“Take Sunny with you. He’ll stay out of your way, but it’ll make me feel better if he’s there keeping an eye on you. I don’t want you coming home again like you did last time. No father needs to see that.”

My eyes fell to the marble floor beneath my heels. “I know, Daddy. That won’t happen, I swear. I’m only going to have one drink considering I’ll be driving.”

“You’re right it won’t happen again because Sunny will be with you. This way you won’t have to worry about driving at all.” He kissed my cheek and walked me to the door. “Be safe, and have fun.”

I slowly walked to the driveway, hearing the hard clicks of Sunny’s loafers on the paver’s brick behind me. We called him Sunny because the man never had a smile on his face, always stern, business-like. So when I spun around and caught the smug smile on his youthful face, it sent a chill down my straightened spine. Something was off.

Sunny had been with the family for years, always there to babysit me when my father asked him to, which was probably more often than I knew. He never tended to Matty—only me. And I hated him for it. I hated it even more since he was only five years older than me. Fucking men…he could’ve been younger than me and yet he’d still hold more authority in my house than I would.

“I don’t need you to babysit me, Sunny. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself, been doing it since my mother died. In fact, I’ve been taking care of my father since she died. I think that makes me perfectly capable of going out for a drink with my friends. Don’t you think?”

His steps didn’t falter or slow as he continued his way to the black Lincoln at the end of the driveway. “This way, Miss Jordana. You know I follow orders, but not yours,” he called smugly over his shoulder.

Judas Priest!
I rolled my eyes and followed him—reluctantly.

He opened the back door for me to get in, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow at me as if daring me to question him. I knew there was no way around this other than having him drop me off at The Vine Bar and then evading him. Stefan would more than likely be irritated at me for being late, promptness was of high importance to him. But just the thought of provoking Stefan’s irritation spread a wide grin on my glossed lips, knowing the things he did to my body when he was like that. I winked back at Sunny and slid into the back seat.

“Take me to—”

“Oh, I know where I’m taking you, Jordana.”

“Excuse me? How would you know where I’m meeting my friends? Or are you kidnapping me? Should I be worried?” I didn’t sound worried, because I wasn’t. Even if he did have some ulterior motive and planned to take me somewhere else, I knew he’d never put me in danger. The man wouldn’t even look at me in a bathing suit. I thought for the longest time he might’ve been gay, but after catching him eye-fuck enough women, I had to put that theory to rest. Whatever the reason was, he never crossed the lines with me. Never even made it close enough to the line. Sunny was truly a good wise guy, which made his recent behavior a little odd.

He lifted a brow and caught my attention in the rearview mirror. “I’ve already told you…I know how to follow orders.”

“Whose orders? I do believe my father told you to take me to meet my friends.”

“You ask far too many questions, little one.”

That was it. I snapped. Fuck him and anyone crazy enough to call me “little one.” Fuck him for questioning
my
intelligence and belittling me. I waited until he pulled to a complete stop at the red light and then rolled down my window before reaching out and opening the door, already knowing the handle wouldn’t work on the inside.

“Jordana!” he called from behind me as I slammed the door closed and stormed off. “Fucking A! Get back in the car right now!”

I ignored him and kept walking in the opposite direction of the car. I knew he’d be stuck in traffic and unable to turn around in time to catch me before I disappeared. However, he seemed to know my move a second after I made it. He jumped out, leaving the car in the middle of the road, causing car horns to blare all around me. I turned back to notice him rushing after me, his face hard and red.

“Jordana, don’t do this. Get back in the car,” he said with his dark eyes impossibly darker as they pleaded with me. He wasn’t a begging man, he had no need or right to request anything. But his fiery eyes were of a desperate person, and it intrigued me.

“Worried my father will be angry if you lose me?” I tested him.

He shook his head, never taking his intense gaze off me.

“Who’s got your balls, Sunny? Tell me and I might get back in the car.”

“Get in and I’ll tell you. You’ll find out soon enough anyway.”

“Oh yeah? And why is that?”

“Once I take you where you need to go, you’ll figure everything out. I’m sure you already know most of it.”

I grabbed the knot on his tie and pulled—more like
yanked
—his face closer to mine. We were eye to eye, nose to nose, and I could practically hear his erratic heartbeat fill the night air around us. “Tell me. You’re working my last nerve here, Sunny.”

His eyes closed, shutting me out as he took in a deep breath. None of this was indicative to his normal behavior. Something had gotten to him.
Someone
, I should say. But with everything in such disarray, it could be anyone.

“Get in the car. Traffic is heavy, so we’ll have plenty of time to talk on our way to Mr. Giannotti’s place.” His eyes opened once my sharp gasp escaped me, ringing out over the sounds of traffic. “Mr.
Stefan
Giannotti, Miss Jordana. The only one that matters.”

I couldn’t deny the smile that overtook my lips as I stared back at him. He hadn’t called me Mrs. Giannotti, so he couldn’t have known everything, but he knew enough. And that was all it took to get me back to the parked Lincoln. Horns honked all around, but neither of us seemed to care. I know I didn’t. Stefan’s plan was in the works, and I had an elated feeling about my meeting with him now.

“What do you know?” I asked Sunny once he took his place again behind the steering wheel. “And how? If you know this much, then I feel quite certain that you know my role in it all…and that it’s in your best interest to tell me everything.”

He kept his eyes focused on the road ahead as he spoke. “When you’re contacted by Carlo’s men and told not to ask questions or open your mouth if you want to keep your tongue, you do as you’re told. And with your visit to the courthouse, Stefan as your escort,
I’m
quite certain you know the changes being implemented in the family. They’ve reached out to various members of each family, grooming them for this redirection. Some know more than others, but none high enough on the ladder to shed light on it to the heads. Mick and your father have no idea, as I’m sure you’re aware, and no one in the Carrara fold knows anything. This is big, Jordana, and anyone involved in this stage is blessed. We will all be compensated.”