Maid For The Mafia by Alice T. Boone

Chapter Seven

Keeping it up was dangerous. When my lungs gave out at home, the creature in my marrow was the only one to watch me. Night brought gasps for air, grasps for something stable, but daylight required something different. Daylight required confidence, and all I had was a carefully crafted image. Lack of sleep made it impossible to pay complete attention to the two men seated in front of me, and with a head underwater, the sounds of the busy eatery could hardly warn me to the surrounding threats. They were laughing about something stupid, nudging each other the way old family did. The Italians wouldn’t move like I did, didn’t rush to business with the same nervousness as me. The old capos insisted we eat first and talk about work second. From my place in the storm, I just tried to remember how to sit upright.

Was living supposed to feel so much like suffering?

I burned the candle at both ends for two weeks. I barely kept my eyes open anymore— not without the help of something stronger, of something that made my head too fuzzy for business conversations. It only took 48 hours to tear apart the division I worked so hard to create. The docks were back under my complete supervision just as the construction racket tried to expand, and while the boss couldn’t be happier, I was losing my grip on it all. Nights in brutality, days in bureaucracy, and every waking second waiting on this entire thing to collapse. I needed help, but with Travis the only logical replacement for Micah, I didn’t think the end was anywhere in sight. This mess was something I’d created— something that grew out of my complacency. If I had worked harder to maintain my image, to broadcast the exact thing the men needed, Micah never would have doubted me.

I fucked this up, and it was on me to fix it.

If I could stay awake, at least.

My body didn’t straighten until the server stole away our dishes. Two energy drinks bought me an hour and half, but the clock was running out. All I needed was an agreement on a new proposal. I would force a new trust with an unbalanced dynamic, push a new relationship with the only thing the Italians seemed to understand. Money was enough to buy their confidence in me, and once I had that, I could work on cleaning up the rest of the goddamn city.

In front of me, Pier straightened. A snort pulled my attention to him as he adjusted the buttons on his suit, and then a careful look met my eye. “Micah used to bring us cigars.” I wouldn’t let my fists ball at the comment, wouldn’t break the gaze of the man in front of me. “Heard you sent him out to Toronto.”

“It was my father’s trick.” The snap furrowed his brow, and finally, I offered the closest thing I could get to a smile. I glanced away, waving my hand through the air with the clarification. “The cigars.”

Finally, they warmed. While the city had forgotten the name O’Brian, my father still meant something to the older generations. My old man used to have all the capos over to the house when he needed to discuss something— an event that took all week for my mother to prepare. Cooking all day, the stress of serving all night, and it was only when the men disappeared to smoke cigars in the backyard that she seemed to calm down. It was an O’Brian tradition I was meant to uphold, one the Italians never quite forgave me for dropping. I didn’t make the same mistakes my father made— I didn’t let strangers into my home. I wouldn’t let Jemma be raised the same way I had been raised.

When espresso appeared in front of them, when a mousy waitress disappeared into the back, Pier and Arnaldo softened. After a sip, the younger man shot me a grin. “You look just like him,” Arnaldo noted.

The correct thing to do was to thank them. My father’s good looks had a way of hiding a brutish personality, something I clearly inherited, something I never intended to pass on. The policy was to thank them. When it came to business with Italians, the policy was basically to suck their fuckin’ cocks, but as my attention pulled to the side, there wasn’t much hope of schmoozing.

Sharpened senses were meant to protect me. I’d developed a trained ear hoping it would buy me precious seconds, and while I’d owed my life to the damn things, that café had a way of making me curse every gift I’d ever received. I could pick her notes out of a fucking choir, and the moment Selina’s voice entered the restaurant, my head snapped to the side. Ancient lighting did nothing to distract from divinity. Selina stood at the entrance to the building, her hair pulled into a messy bun and a blue sundress hugging her every curve. It wasn’t until our eyes met that I remembered what it was like to have life in deadened muscles. Selina’s cheeks tinted slightly, her hand darting out to pull the hostess back to her side. All it would take was a quick comment in the woman’s ear before she led Selina past our table and to the patio outside. A quick comment was all it would take to place her in the sun, a constant reminder of the peace I could never have.

When the world coloured back in, the sound of a busy eatery threatened to drown me. My head started to ring, and with two blinks, I brought clarity back to the two men in front of me. They were waiting for something, but as my head clouded, I couldn’t remember what the fuck it was we’d been talking about. Will straightened my spine, and I choked out the closest my ego would let me come to an apology.

“I could use some more coffee.”

“Yeah?” Pier’s grin had a way of darkening the room, of twisting my stomach. His head tilted to the side, glancing back at Selina on the patio. “Looks like you could use something else too.”

Arnoldo’s chuckle stole whatever air was left. It was only seeing her there, drenched in warmth and more alive that I had ever felt, that I was reminded of the second trick I taught Micah. The man always found a way of keeping new young things on his arm when he had a meeting with the two capos— young things dressed in dresses just as short as the one Selina dared to walk past me in.

“She’s staff,” I clarified.

“Even better.”

My hum was the only chance I had of hiding the crash of nausea, the wave of anger. It was only when the two old men threatened to glance back that my body lunged forward, that two weeks of missed sleep felt like nothing at all.

“We’ve got two clean containers coming back on Thursday,” I reminded them, as though I hadn’t already brought it up four times through our meal. “Another two are being added into the rotation on Friday, if you’ve got product to fill it.”

Finally, I pulled the Italians back to me, but attention only meant danger in the wolf’s den. While Arnoldo sucked back the rest of his espresso, Pier gave me a careful look, a careless chuckle. “Micah only worked with two.”

“Micah followed my discretion.” The snap had a way of pulling all eyes on me, and with the slightest hint of power, I tried to pull myself back together. I straightened again, and with my eyes pinned forward, I pushed the only reassurance the two should need. “The port’s been taking in more cargo than normal for the past two months. Quincy says that pattern should carry into the new year. This is the safest opportunity to increase our workload.”

Arnoldo shrugged. “Then do it with the Biker’s money.”

When a familiar spark threatened to tense my every muscle, I let my jaw tighten instead. When the snarl threatened to fill my chest, I let my chin raise. One night at the docks reminded me of a truth I’d never be able to escape, that the training I’d taken all those years ago would never really leave my muscles. Violence was the only thing I knew, and when danger lapped at my neck, I couldn’t help the sickness that followed. Every part of me wanted to react, wanted to snarl out something to remind the two of who they were dealing with, but reason kept my lips shut.

Don’t fuck this up.

Don’t put them all at risk.

“I’m giving you a license to print money, Pier,” I hissed. “The increased shipments to the port gives us a base 10% chance to be searched and seized, down from 20%. With my men working on the dock, that lowers to 0.2%.”

When their gaze shifted back down to their drinks, back to the small group who were entering the restaurant, my stomach twisted. I knew it was the same speech Micah tried to sell them just weeks before— one I had written him that never had much of a chance of working. The Italians trusted Micah, and all the lunch really did was remind me of the things I wasn’t. Where Micah faked a grin, all I seemed to do was drown. They needed something more, something real, and it wasn’t until my gaze shifted behind them that I felt it. It wasn’t until I noticed Selina straighten in her seat, until I spotted the man who approached her table, that I was reminded of the thing I’d spent so long running from.

I was meant to be focusing on the threats in front of me, but a bruised ego could only focus on the snake laying in the sun. Part of me could try to ignore the woman as she settled into her warmth, as she thumbed her way through a novel I didn’t recognize. To watch a young Italian approach her with that awful grin, to have the audacity to approach what was rightfully mine, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to breathe again. If the capos reminded me of the thing I couldn’t be anymore, Selina had a way of reminding me of the things I’d never been. When she gave the strange a smile she’d never give me, it reminded me of the disgusting twist in my stomach. When a snide remark pulled her attention out of her book a second time, it reminded me of the blood coursing through tensed muscles. I could almost hear the excuses falling from pouting lips, the lies she’d tell me again.

‘I would never flirt with him.’

‘I was just trying to help.’

‘I understand, Mr. O’Brian.’

A wash of disgust fixed my vision to the men in front of me. As my expression fell, I rested back in my seat. “You’re welcome to go south, but Seattle’s rate is almost double mine.” The sudden reminder of their situation had a way of straightening the Italians. “If you don’t have the cargo, then I’m certain—”

Pier’s tightened look strangled the sentence. It wasn’t until the two exchanged a careful look that my shoulders relaxed down my back.

“Small shipments for two weeks.”

“The bikers are ready to jump on the opportunity tonight.”

Arnoldo’s hiss wouldn’t pull my attention off Pier, off the dark eyes that burrowed into me. “Then what the fuck did you come here for? You’re gonna come into our business and try to hustle us out of—”

“My father respected you.” The statement, simple and pointed, seemed to calm them. “If we’re making money with anyone, I want it to be the Italians.”

Finally, I watched the two men settle into the drinks. If there was one thing that Italians respected, it was a sense of family. While the old man had never been much of a help to me in his life, his death offered some protection. There was value in a name, value in the only thing I ever handed down to Jemma, and the nod of agreement reminded me of that.

“Fine.”

My father was vicious until the end. When he was shot at the docks nine years ago, months after they promoted him to captain, he died alone. My father lost his life because he left his rackets up to the only man he trusted— himself. The Italians had way of life I’d always admired. Men like Arnoldo and Pier spent their youth in brutality and retired in peace. They’d amassed enough men beneath them that they found space to breathe. Though, as I watched the two men relax back into casual chatter, I was reminded of the key difference between them and I.

They had the respect of their men.

They had learned how to trust the ones around them.

They didn’t have this awful knocking in their bones.

I could only survive another five minutes before the gnawing in my stomach began again. As aging capos fell back into chit chat, my tired mind wandered back to the place it had no business being. Lack of danger pushed my head back under the water, and beneath the current, all I could do was watch the woman who basked on the shore.

I knew better than to let my teeth grind, than to let out the snarl that had been building. There was no reason for me to be interested in the scene occurring on the patio. There was no reason for me to watch the stranger who had taken a seat across from Selina, who hadn’t even bothered to order food, who hadn’t seemed to notice the fact that she’d tried to fall back into her book four times already. Still, there was no looking away. Not once I caught the way her eyes drifted over his shoulder, the way they landed on me, the way her skin prickled.

Go home.

My muscles ached as the men in front of me stood. A quick motion demanded I follow their lead, but when my body turned towards the door, a tug in my chest kept me pinned in place. There was some part of me that was certain fucking her was all it would take to bleed Selina out of my system. Fucking staff was almost a rite of passage once you became Captain. Her eyes, her legs, her curves reminded me that Selina was built to be fucked. But then, nothing with Selina had ever been that simple. Planted in place, watching the surety of my future walk out the door, I felt less sure than I had in years. It was a tug that only seemed to awaken the worst parts of me—

The parts that came with Micah’s dark marks.

The parts that came with Travis’ lingering gaze.

The parts that haunted my thoughts whenever she was out of my sight.

When I cleared my throat, Arnoldo glanced over his shoulder. It was only when I couldn’t meet their eye that the two men stopped altogether.

“I’ll meet you next week.” When their brows furrowed, I almost wished they’d just followed their instinct and cut off my fucking tongue. It’d give me a reason to stop myself, at least. “We’ll discuss dates then.”

My stomach didn’t knot until Pier’s eyes shifted back to the girl in the sun, to the young Italian who forced his way beside her. Then dark eyes engulfed me again. “Don’t bring trouble in here, Terry.”

I wanted to spit out a promise, but when my lips parted, the words wouldn’t come. A nod was all I could manage, and with a final look, the men turned forward again. It wasn’t until the two had left the restaurant, until they stopped to exchange hushed prophecies on the street, that the tug returned. If I had a hope of leaving, of letting Selina live her own life, that hope vanished the moment I glanced back over my shoulder.

I was certain their eyes followed me out onto the patio. I was certain everyone’s eyes followed me out to the patio, but when Selina’s warmth rested on me, the eyes of the world didn’t seem to matter. As my senses flooded with a new kind of danger, I tried to focus on the only thing that seemed to relax my shoulders. The clearing of my throat, the shifting of Selina’s gaze, alerted the young Italian to my presence behind him. It was that same gaze that kept my knuckles from whitening, from a familiar blindness taking over my head.

“She’s busy.”

I wouldn’t glance at the boy when he turned in his chair— not yet, at least. My eyes wouldn’t dare to lower until I watched his shoulders fall, the realization of his situation fully dawning on him. Dark eyes widened as they looked up to me, a wash of fear, of anger, of submission. I was certain it was the watchful eye of his capos that forced a mumbled apology out of his lips, but as the boy crawled out of the seat, the last thing on my mind was Arnoldo, Pier, the Italian muscle surrounding me.

As the boy crawled out of his seat, the only thing I could think about was the relief that washed over her flawless features, the first sign of peace I’d ever been able to bring her.

In front of me, her smile had returned. Dark eyes scrutinized my every movement, studied my every feature, and finally, I watched Selina change back into the woman she was meant to be. When her eyes turned back down to the book in front of her, I could almost convince myself that I’d done a good job, that I’d finally repaid her for her help with Jemma. That lie became impossible to believe when the server returned.

There was no kindness left in my chest— not for Selina. Not for anyone.

My snarl snapped the waitress upright. “She’s not eating.”

“What?” Both women furrowed their brow. Though, Selina was the only one fearless enough to challenge the statement any further. As the server started back for the kitchen, a useless hand grabbed out for attention, for help. “Yes, she is eating,” Selina pushed.

“We’re leaving.”

“We’re not—” Defeat wouldn’t settle over her face until the food was hidden away completely, until the waitress had made her way back into the eatery. It was only when she shot me a pointed look that I finally felt the prickle of anger, the tightness across my knuckles. When I said we were leaving, I expected her to jump out of her seat, expected the same respect I commanded at the house. Instead, Selina seemed to settle back into her seat, her arms crossing over her chest. “That’s a terrible waste of food, Terry.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

When that awful hiss came from my chest, Selina softened. The annoyance that tainted her vision just moments ago washed away with a terrible patience, with a kindness I wasn’t sure I deserved.

“Terry, I haven’t eaten all day.” When she needed strength, her thumb ran along the pages of her book, and a hum brought a new admission. “All I wanted was a meal away from work and some time to—” When her eyes finally lifted back up to me, when those awful orbs met an unstoppable force, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Can’t I just have this one thing?”

Go home.

The prickle along my spine told me it was a terrible decision before I even moved. By the time I motioned for the server to return her food, it felt like someone was trying to pull the damn thing from my body, but still, she watched me. Selina’s gaze wouldn’t shift until the food had settled in front of her, and even then, it wouldn’t be for long. Her eyes tore from her book, from her food, as I took the seat across from her, and when that became too much, I let my vision scan the area.

The only threat greater than Selina was the one prowling the perimeter. On the street, the young Italian made his way into the clutches of the elders— another mistake that I was certain I wouldn’t be able to let go. The kid was hardly familiar, but the way Arnaldo wrapped an arm around his shoulders told me just about everything I needed to know. I hadn’t just disrespected an Italian on their own turf. I’d disrespected a direct member of the family— low ranking or not.

“I don’t know him.” My body stiffened, but I couldn’t give Selina more than a side-eyed glance. With a fork in her hand, the woman looked as though she wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to pay attention to. Her gaze was glued to me, her book left open beside her, and her lips quivered as they waited for a bite of food. It wasn’t until her eyes shifted to the boy on the street that she made her choice, resting her elbows on the table before locking her eyes on me. “I think he saw me biking the other day and just followed me over.”

“What the fuck do I care?” Her brow furrowed, and a familiar darkness clouded my head, weakened my muscles. “Don’t make this into something it’s not. It was just sex.”

All curiosity melted from her face, her eyes returning to her book with a doubtful wave of her hand. “Right. Which is why you rushed over here like a bat out of hell.”

My stomach twisted as she tried to settle back into her seat, as she licked my blood from her claws. “You can fuck whoever you want, Selina. Just don’t do it in my employ.”

It was only when disgust tainted her features that her head shot up. Teeth bared, she leaned forward. “First, I would never—” When a shiver ran over her spine, a warning I’d never be able to heed, Selina snapped her mouth shut. A careful hand tucked her hair behind her ear and drew her eyes to her lap. It was only when she was certain she had control of herself that she glanced up to me again. It was only when she was certain she was stronger than me that she spoke. “We both know that’s not the type of person I am.”

“You fucked me just fine.”

“That was different.”

“How?” A dark chuckle had a way of freezing us both, and as the sound settled into her marrow, Selina’s spark dimmed. For once, something had hurt her. “How was it different? Because I had to buy you a goddamn plane ticket?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Watch it, Terry.”

“Don’t threaten me.”

“I’m not threatening anything. I’m telling you to watch it before you call me something you can’t take back.” The slightest hesitation, the slightest restraint, softened her glare. “You’ve got no right coming over here and acting like this.”

“I’ve got no right?”

“You’ve got nothing to be jealous ov—”

“I don’t get jealous.” The snarl snapped her lips shut, and when heat prickled through my system, I leaned over the table. “If someone finds out my staff is fucking her way through the Italians, how do you think that makes me look? This image is the only thing that protects my family, Selina. If you’re so desperate for attention that you can’t keep your legs closed for a fucking afternoon, go back to Jackie.”

For two months, Selina had been working for me, testing me, pushing me. For two months I’d been trying to drag the image of her cumming for me out of my mind. As I watched her grow quiet, struggling for words, I wondered if that was really all it took. Once you hurt a woman enough, that’s all you’ll ever see. Her lips trembled, shifting between a sick grin and a devastating frown. She wouldn’t straighten entirely until another minute passed, and this time, when those dark eyes landed on me, they brought anything but peace.

“If your maid sleeping with someone damages your image, then it’s not much of an image to begin with.”

When my jaw clenched, when my knuckles whitened, the woman wouldn’t flinch. The sight that had sent men cowering just years before wouldn’t earn so much as a blink as she watched me across the table, and finally, I felt the last of my life leave my lungs. Her eyes were impossible to look away from, and when she stole them away from me, they were impossible to live without. Selina let out a grumble as she slammed her book shut, as she packed up her purse and jumped to her feet. It was only when she started her march to the entrance that she finally stopped. As she straightened her dress, her hair, I wondered if it was that same painful tug that kept her tied to the table.

“It’s different because he’s not you,” she blurted. The admission wouldn’t bring her eyes back down to me, but Selina’s head tilted all the same. “That’s why it’s different.”

“Mobsters fuck the maid, Selina. They don’t marry her.”

Hurt had a way of accenting those pieces of her I didn’t think I’d ever stop dreaming of. Fucking her was something I could understand. That animal desire to claim her was something time would wear out entirely. It was the urge lurking beneath the surface that had a way of keeping me up, that twisted in my chest when I watched her shoulders fall. Wanting to make her cum was one thing; wanting to be the only one to make her cum was something different. The woman who so routinely saw through disguise had also seen a part she wanted to keep. It was only then that I realized the wreck the truth had created for both of us.

Getting involved with Selina would destroy whatever image I had hobbled together.

Getting involved with Selina would put my entire family at risk.

Her head snapped forward as she tried to gather her thoughts. A step brought us apart, but when another tug pulled at her, the woman spun on her heel. I watched as she tugged her purse off her shoulder and dug through for a single piece of paper. A slap rested it on the table, and her arms crossed over her chest again. Of the seven items on her list, Selina had scribbled out four. All that remained, pained reminders printed in neat writing, were school supplies, makeup items, a Nirvana t-shirt in my daughter’s size.

“Jemma asked me to pick up some stuff for her,” she huffed. “I was going to head to the city after lunch, but I think she’d like it if her dad got the rest.”

By the time I stuffed the damn thing into my pocket, Selina had already scurried through the restaurant. Her dark hair had a way of shimmering as she tossed it over her shoulder, as she removed her bike from the rack on the street. She vanished before I’d been able to choke out another insult, and as I looked down at the list, I wondered if maybe that was a good thing. Faced with another reminder of all the things I wasn’t, of all the things I couldn’t give the people who mattered the most, I wasn’t sure that I could keep the venom away for long.

Just go home, Terry.

* * *

Nothing surprised me more than how quickly a decent day could turn into a nightmare. At one time, coming home used to feel like a reprieve. Back then, work was a god damn nightmare. As a member of another crew, I was constantly playing defense, constantly cleaning up messes that weren’t mine. To come home to Jemma was the only thing that kept me going. Of course, she liked me back then. It was only after I made captain that things with Jemma turned to shit.

The second my professional life starts to work, everything else seems to fall apart.

I wasn’t strong enough to fight a war both on the streets and here at home.

I’d been trying to make the most of a shitty situation. With the construction company on the up and up and the docks making more money than ever, I was expected to vet some legitimate new hires. I needed hours of background checks for each applicant, days of sifting through useless information to find the right person. I needed someone who was clean from the fed’s standpoint, an average citizen with a questionable moral compass. I needed someone reliable, someone who didn’t ask any questions, and someone who didn’t mind lying under oath for me. That was the only way this business seemed to work, but when a call from Jemma’s school came through, even that was impossible. Two hours we sat in silence, Jemma huffing in the corner of the room after I’d confiscated her laptop and cell.

Two hours I’d been trying to work, trying to keep an eye on her.

Two hours and neither of us had done a god damn thing.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to focus like this.”

When a snarl built, I bit it back. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure how the fuck I was supposed to focus either. This entire mess wasn’t exactly a picnic for me either. The last thing I needed was to have my daughter fail out of school.

“Just do your fuckin’ work, Jemma,” I ground. “You don’t wanna spend time out here? Start using your head.”

“I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t call you stupid.”

“This is bullshit.”

“Watch your mouth,” I snapped, straightening her spine from across the room. “We’re handling this peacefully. You finish your work and you get your phone back.”

“Right,” Jemma hissed, turning back towards the book in front of her. “You’re the king of peaceful resolutions.”

I knew better than to react to her. The childish act was one I’d dealt with a hundred times from men twice her size. I wasn’t about to snap over something so small, something so trivial. Though, that didn’t mean that my heart remained intact. When I started this, the only intention was to keep Jemma safe. My only goal was to give her the life she deserved— and part of that meant keeping her out of it. The world saw me as a stain on the city. To know my daughter did as well was just another nail in a coffin. When she was born, I thought I’d have at least 18 years before she discovered why we lived in luxury. It was hard not to feel cheated.

“Just do your fucking work, Jem.”

Moments of self-hatred seemed to be Selina’s bread and butter, my own brand of torture. The door to the study opened right as my chest threatened to collapse, and while I had hoped the maid wouldn’t be in the room to watch my downfall, my daughter made sure to broadcast my humiliation. It’d been three weeks since the restaurant, and Selina and I had become master of avoiding each other in the mausoleum— a victory that hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Sorry. I can come back,” Selina murmured, taking a step back through the doorway.

“Hey!”

Selina shot my daughter a smile, but when her eyes finally drifted to me, she seemed to freeze. She was smarter than to prance into the room, but as she studied me, something seemed to pull her a little further. My body shivered without her attention, Selina’s eyes drifting to Jemma instead. At the very least, I had to be relieved she didn’t have to watch me choke. At the very least, I had to be grateful that Jemma and I found a buffer.

“Don’t usually see you down here,” Selina hummed, glancing over Jemma’s shoulder. “Dad have to drag you down here by the hair?”

“Practically.”

As Jemma tossed a glare across the room, Selina could only give a smile. The two women turned their backs to me, Selina leaning carefully over Jemma’s shoulder. From my position on the couch, I pretended not to notice the way her dress rode up her thighs, her warmth already making me hard.Seeing her bent over only reminded me how good my handprint would look on her ass, and my jaw tightened painfully.

“He’s forcing me to finish an essay.”

“The nerve of some people.”

Sarcasm tore my daughter’s head to the side, her eyes narrowing as Selina shot her a playful smile. Jem’s fists clenched. “He took away my laptop.”

“Lucky,” Selina sang. “I used to come home to find my door off the hinges.”

While the memory seemed to make Jemma laugh, it only turned my stomach. The last thing I wanted to do was be compared to a man Selina clearly resented.

“I’m sure Val has work for you to do,” I snarled out.

While the statement earned both of their attentions, Jemma was the only one who looked annoyed. Selina simply nodded her head, taking a step back towards the door. The only thing that kept her in place was Jemma’s outstretched hand.

“You get this Shakespeare shit?”

Selina gave a nervous laugh, her hands landing on her waist. “Kid, I barely graduated high school.” As Jemma’s shoulders crashed around her body, Selina’s eyes drifted back over to me. “I spotted a U of T degree on the wall upstairs. Your dad’s probably up to help you.”

“Lot of good that’s done him.”

Another aftershock, another collapse, another moment stuck on repeat.

When the words had come out of Tiff’s mouth, I had almost been able to handle it. To hear them come out of our daughter’s mouth, all I could feel was the tremble in my hand. Everything we had, everything we’d ever have would be a product of the work I put in. Every piece of me went towards my home, my family, my future, and it still wasn’t good enough for anyone.

My muscles ached as I stood, the rest of my files spilling out onto the coffee table. If I had to watch her, it sure as shit would not be sober. “I’m not repeating myself, Jem.”

By the time I made it out to the kitchen, I already lost sense of sight. Muscle memory was the only thing that helped me find the fridge, that tugged a beer out from the door. From there, all I had was a procedure to follow. A single swig soothed me, and the agenda for the night pulled me back into control. I’d soften myself out with a drink. I’d settle on a hire tonight. I’d get through the rest of Jemma’s work with a white-knuckled control. Then, I’d let everything fall apart.

When the world coloured back in, my shoulders crawled down my back. The ringing in my ears died down, the rushing blood finally settling in my stomach, but the quiet brought a whole new level of challenges. Braced against the kitchen counter, I allowed myself to tune into the gentle lulls of Selina’s voice.

“He’s doing his best, you know,” she finally hummed. “You’ll have to go a little easier on your dad.”

“You’re gonna defend him?”

From the other room, I could hear Selina’s hiss. “I’m not defending anybody, but there are worse things than your dad looking out for you.”

“Looking out for me? He punishes people for a living, Selina. This is just what he does.”

Another pang of guilt, another shudder of disgust.

“Two things can be true, I guess,” Selina hummed. “You’ll just have to trust me, kid.”

Another swig of my drink softened my shoulders. Silence from the other room told me Selina wasn’t ready to budge, and I had a feeling patience was one of her many virtues. Yet another moment of light I wasn’t sure I deserved to bask in.

“I can’t wait ‘til I turn 18.”

“Cute that you think that’ll stop him,” Selina teased. Despite myself, I felt a grin creeping on. “Move over.”

“Selina.”

“Move over.”

From my position in the kitchen, I could hear Jemma’s chair creaking, could hear that feigned groan she used to give me.

“How many more words you need?”

“500, maybe.”

Selina hummed, as though she hadn’t already viewed this through her crystal ball that morning. “Have breakfast with your dad.”

“I don’t like breakfast.”

“Have toast with your dad,” Selina bartered, “and I’ll give you two more talking points.”

“Fine.”

Thoughts of her always seemed to hit like a fucking heart attack. It was the shortness of breath, the tightness in my chest, the blurred vision that left me weakened, left me stupid. Though, it was that look that had been the biggest struggle. Three months I’d been desperate to convince myself that she was just frightened, that she was watching me so closely because I was just a dog in a cage to her. Now, this collapse of my chest felt different.

No part of me was smart enough to place the need anymore. Everything was so tainted with anger that when the warmth peeked through, everything felt the same. Everything was too drenched in lust to untangle it, but then, maybe I didn’t want to untangle it. I could handle this animalistic need for her. It was the human hunger that was harder to face— a truth that became even more apparent when I stumbled out of the kitchen, when I watched her like the mutt I was.

“What now?”

“Upstairs,” I snarled, desperate to pull myself back together as I shifted my attention to my daughter. “Finish the fuckin’ thing in your room.”

“You took my—”

“Office.”

I hated the way Jemma looked so uneasy, hated the look she shot to Selina. I hated that she worried for Selina’s safety when we were alone. Though, maybe the only saving grace was the woman who terrorized me for weeks. Next to her, Selina looked confused, but no piece of her would be frightened of me. She gave Jemma a smile, a wink of reassurance my soul craved the most, and nodded for her to leave the room. Selina wouldn’t give me the rush I needed until we could hear Jemma’s door slamming shut, wouldn’t redirect her attention until she was certain we were alone.

She was nervous. Even through blurred vision I could see I made her nervous, made her sweat, made her wet. Selina straightened her uniform as she lifted out of her seat, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Terry, I’m sorry.” As my vision blurred further, this thing inside me finally taking its grip, her voice grew faint. “I know you said I should just leave it alone, but I was only trying to—”

My hands were on her before either of us knew what was going on. My lips were on her before her moan could escape, before she had a moment to realize what a terrible fucking idea it was to be with me again. Needy hands tore her out of her uniform, searching for a reassurance I wasn’t sure she could offer, but when her moan filled my mouth, I shivered with an excitement I hadn’t properly felt in years. It was the moan that had been stuck in my head for weeks, that had been following me around on every job. All I wanted to do was bury myself inside her again. I needed to remember what it was like to feel her tightening around me, needed to hear my name on her tongue, needed to feel how badly she needed me.

My lips never left her— not even as I cleared every book and ornament off the top of the desk. Her fingers never untangled from my hair— not even when my fingers dug into her waist, when I pulled her on top of the desk. I hated the way I fucked her last time. I hated the need within me, the weakness that she seemed too eager to show me. I hated that I rushed through. I hated that I couldn’t give her the time she deserved, but if I couldn’t be the man she needed then, I sure as shit couldn’t be him now. This thing was too powerful for me to fight anymore, and as I forced myself between her soft thighs, I prayed for some type of forgiveness.

She deserved my patience.

She deserved my gentleness.

She deserved someone who wasn’t such a complete fuck up, but it just wasn’t me.

I couldn’t be patient anymore. I couldn’t wait another second. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t need every fucking bit of her anymore.

“Wait.” Her murmur barely cut through the static as I worked her uniform around her waist. Her hands on my chest, the struggle in her muscles, couldn’t reach me as my lips landed on her neck. “Terry, wait.”

My entire body shook when I finally ran a finger along her soaking slit. Every piece of me knew she had been thinking about me all fucking day, those perfect legs tightening as she struggled to keep her excitement at bay. I knew she had been thinking about me, fantasizing about me, touching herself to the thought of my hands. I just hadn’t really accepted how much I’d been thinking of her, how deep her torture cut me. Her soaked pussy awoke a piece of me I’d long since put to bed— the piece that was tired of sleeping alone, of being alone, of feeling like nothing without her in the room.

Though, I had a feeling Selina would never make my life easy.

My lips were back on her as my cock started to ache. A spike of anger boiled my skin as my useless fingers struggled to undo my belt, but maybe that anger was the pause Selina needed. The only thing that could have stopped my advance was the sight of her hands on my own, the hint of hesitation in her eye. A new type of need pushed my hands to cup her face.

“I can’t,” she finally choked, her gentle panting just driving me crazier. “I can’t do this like you can, Terry.”

I hated the way my chest tightened, the slightest hint of rejection bringing out a new type of beast. Embarrassment tinted her cheeks and warmed my hands, but when Selina tried to pull away from me, I wasn’t strong enough to let her go. All I wanted to do anymore was keep her, protect her, remind her how at home she felt with my cock buried inside of her.

“I can’t separate the two,” she confessed. “I can’t just sleep with you and not fall—” A hiss of embarrassment threatened to pull her away from me, but a gentle brush of my thumb on her cheek brought the woman back to my side. “I need all of you or I need none of you, Terry. I’m not strong enough for anything else.”

Nothing made sense anymore. How the fuck were they supposed to? I’d grown too complacent, too incompetent to untangle my need for her from my need to conquer. Once our eyes locked, there was no going back. Selina had ruined another routine, had come in and destroyed moments of loneliness with one idiotic confession. My gut told me nothing would ever make sense again, but that didn’t matter. A damaged heart wasn’t strong enough to stop this ache in my muscles.

My tongue begged for a taste of her, my lips on her before Selina’s cry of frustration could leave her chest. The entire table scraped along the floor as I buried myself in her sweet pussy, a shudder of excitement running through both of us. The feeling of her skin on fire with embarrassment only fed my grin. Never in my life had I felt so whole, so complete, as when I got a chance to see and hear her moan. A forceful hand pushed her back against the table, and Selina’s mind reading forced her legs up against my chest, her beautiful calves resting on my shoulders as I plunged even deeper into her. I watched her eyes widen as I fucked her there, my entire length slamming in and out of her with the new angle. With one hand gripping the edge of the table, the other over her mouth, I prayed for a chance to get her truly alone. The next time I fucked her, I’d do it right. I’d book an entire week off to fuck her right, to make her scream, to make her beg, to make her love every piece of me. For now, I’d find solace in her mewls, in the encouragement that fell from her lips as I fucked her in the living room.

The tightening of her walls was already familiar. Selina was never far away from cumming for me— a fact I both loved and hated. That final moan would be too much for me to withstand, and when Selina started to pant for me, I knew I needed more. I needed her every fucking way. With one hand on her ass and the other swooping under her neck, I switched our position. My cock stayed buried within her as I pulled her into my lap, desperate to watch the Madonna use me like she needed— a role Selina played perfectly. Her soft thighs were on either side of me, her arms wrapping around my neck as her smile captured my entire attention. The scent of her shampoo mixed with the scent of her excitement, and my body shuddered with her every movement.

I wanted to let her ride me, to let her go as slow as she needed, to let those gentle purrs fill my entire world, but I never had been very patient. It only took minutes for my fingers to dig back into her hips, controlling her every movement. What was once careful, thoughtful, addictive, turned to something much more primal. I slammed her hips back down against me, pulled another moan out of her lips as I filled her over and over again, helping her when her legs grew too weak. By the time her fingers tangled in my hair, her lips against my own, I knew we’d run out of time. Her grin, her gentle laugh, her tightening were all harbingers of my euphoria, and as she gave that last cry for me, I’d already lost myself.

Nothing would ever be the same.

How could they when I’d finally learned what perfection felt like?

She’d always be flawless to me— even more so with my cum dripping down her thighs. I wasn’t sure there was anything Selina could do that could have broken her spell over me, and if she hadn’t’ve pulled away from me, I was sure I would have died kissing her. I never would have left our bliss if I hadn’t caught the look of disappointment on her perfect features, the sense of loss in her warmth.

It was a look I never wanted to see again. Before she could, my closeness kept her pinned in place. As Selina adjusted her uniform in front of me, I adjusted my tie, my stained pants, my drenched button-up. Then, gentle hands pulled her back into me. My hand smoothed out whatever wrinkles I could find in her dress, and once that was done, I adjusted the apron she kept. Only then did my palm move to cup her face, my fingers brushing stray hair out of her face.

Not that that helped much. With her attention on me, the next bit felt impossible to spit out.

“Start with dinner then.”

Her forehead wrinkled, her head cocking forward. “What?”

“Twice a week,” I stated simply, a groan leaving my chest at the thought of every engagement I had planned for the week ahead. “Once a week.”

Her silence gave me the courage I needed to meet her eye again. Though, when I felt those doe eyes on me, there was no way to keep up the vulnerability she demanded. My soft grip moved to her hair, gripping a handful of what I loved most. When Selina let out another little sound, another memory to hold forever, I couldn’t keep the grin off my face.

“And I want you in my bed nightly.” The statement forced a shiver through her system. My body leaned into her, my lips brushing her ear. “Naked,” I continued. “Waiting for me,” I murmured, my lips brushing over her sensitive flesh. “I’m not willing to budge on that, Selina.”

Her body trembled for me, her hands landing on my chest as her legs threatened to cave. Though, maybe that wasn’t the Selina I knew. The moment of weakness was followed by another shot of stubbornness. Another chance to meddle, another chance to tear me apart, another chance to take away my pain.

“Breakfast,” she finally spit. “On my days off.”

As much as I wanted to, I wouldn’t allow myself to smile. My fingers removed themselves from her hair, my body straightening back up. I knew the proposition was dangerous. Habit whispered that it was irresponsible to mix my personal life with my family life. It wasn’t right to bring the woman I was fucking to a family breakfast, but then, nothing Selina did felt right. With the raven-haired woman, I had little choice. Selina was quickly becoming the only one who made me feel like home, and the woman was far too demanding to be kept hidden for long.

She wasn’t meant to be hidden.

Her body didn’t melt into me again until my fingers brushed another strand of hair behind her ear. “Fine, Selina.”