Page 37 of Sweet Temptation

"Eyes up here, asshole!" Damon barks. Possessive is just a word, but I can see it in his eyes as he glares at his friend. As I watch Sam, I remember what I was told. The blonde comes from Orlando, Florida, and the world he's got his life stamped on, The Costa Nostra, with his father, Tobias Delgado, as the capo.

Sam shoots him a sly smile before he speaks again. "The hockey game is at three. Get out of bed; we have to leave in about an hour to make it to the game."

Damon nods before he smirks. "Unless you want to see my monster cock, I'd leave." Sam rolls his eyes but exits, shutting the door behind him. Rolling my eyes, I climb out of bed, throwing one of Damon's T-shirts over my exposed tits. "Hey, I wanted to play with them." Damon pouts, and I giggle.

I want to know what we are before I get back into bed with him, but that's not what comes out of my mouth. "Maybe if you behave, I'll let you after the game."

He grins in response, jumping out of bed and pulling his sweatpants up his legs while his eyes travel the bare length of my legs. "I wouldn't mind having those wrapped around my head for two minutes, Cinderella…"

Shoving him slightly, I yank up a pair of jeans and disappear out the bedroom door with Damon close behind. "About time. Have you even left the bedroom in six days?" Damien rolls his eyes at us. I glare at him, making my way into the kitchen to grab some orange juice.

Do all men think about is sex? "Does she like kinky?" Damien pipes up. I practically spit my orange juice back into the glass. Kinky? I'm just getting used to surrendering my body, so wanting anything kinky is out of the question.

My head whips around to face the four of them with daggers in my eyes. "Nobody is putting anything around my wrists, in me, or any fuckery whatsoever!" With that, I march up the stairs in a dramatic huff.

The sound of laughter echoes in the halls as I close the bathroom door behind me. "Fucking boys," I growl as I start washing my face. The sudden need for orange juice has ended after their ridiculous comments. Fuck.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I make my way back into Damon's room, closing the door behind me, only to find him sitting there with handcuffs in his hands.

"Damien said I could use them." He smirks. The horrified look on my face reminds him of the words I just sputtered downstairs. The air in the room starts to close around my windpipes as my face turns a deep shade of red.

I feel like the breath whooshed from my lungs. "No, Damon. You will never put those around my wrists," I bark. Maybe one day, but that day won’t come anytime soon. Stomping down the stairs, I shove at Damien's chest. "Arsehole."

He smirks at me before kissing my head. "You'd love it, Aussie." He grins at me. I wouldn't though, but I don't say that; instead, my eyebrow raises at the nickname.

What the fuck is with these arseholes calling me Aussie? My name isn't Aussie! "My names not Aussie," I declare. "It's Hanna Monroe."

"You're Australian, so it's your nickname." Ace rolls his eyes at me. Arsehole. My eyes flick toward him and I raise them. Damon never did tell me what his role in this group is. Is he mafia or mundane like me?

I wipe the question from my mind. "I may be Australian, but who said I liked being called that?" I bite out. Sam grins, causing my anger to grow. I shove him and watch as he falls backwards over the couch.

I smirk in triumph, crossing my arms with a satisfied smile. "Such a tiny person, filled with so much anger." Ace fake pouts.

A sour expression takes over my face. "All of a sudden you are gonna be nice to me? What happened to ignoring me?"

He grins, poking my cheeks. "Now you're a part of the group since you're Damon's girl, so it comes with the territory. I have to be nice," he drawls. Growing frustrated, I saunter into the kitchen to make some more orange juice. Children. I growl slowly as I take a sip from the glass.

"We have to go, Damon!" Damien yells from the bottom of the staircase. Fuck. I have the biggest migraine. Rubbing my temple, I throw my jacket on and shove my feet into my boots.

We all patiently wait for Damon to join us, and once we're all crawled into Ace's Type R, I close my eyes, massaging my temple aggressively. "You okay, Cinderella?" Damon whispers against my ear, worrying clouding his eyes. I nod and lay my head on his shoulder. Fucking Damien and his constant yelling.

We were driving for what seemed like hours until the bright lights of Jersey City lit up the road ahead. I sigh with relief. My entire body aches and I have to pee so badly, I have to clench my legs together so I don't ruin Ace's seats.

Huffing, I close my eyes and lay my head against Damon. "Five minutes, Aussie," Damien says from the front. I noticed the nickname has grown, even if I hate it.

Not only do these four call me Aussie, but their entire hockey team addresses me as Aussie the moment we stepped into the Jersey City hockey arena. Kissing Damon goodbye, I wander into the hockey arena, taking my seat as I await the game to begin. As soon as Damon sits on the hockey bench, my eyes focus on him like the delicious human specimen he is.

He has to wait to play. His gunshot wound means no hockey, nothing physical, except that doesn't stop him from fucking me. I feel myself on my feet before I even know it as goals are scored and the crowd cheers. I think I'm losing my voice with how loud I'm screaming. My throat burns, but I don't care.

Watching the man I love watch the game he loves just makes me absolutely happy. I almost stumble this time as I leap to my feet, screaming, when Ace slaps the puck into the opposite team's net.

As I drag my tired legs to wait for the team, I crash into a hard chest. When my eyes look up, my face pales and I think I stop breathing. Jared Tucker. The horror on my face makes him register exactly who I am, and he gulps.

What is he doing here? This isn't NYC, so why is he here? "Hanna." He quickly turns on his heel and follows his teammates toward the exit. Fuck. Closing my eyes, I plaster a fake smile on my lips when Damon comes walking out of the locker rooms with a smile of victory on his lips.

My mind hasn't even caught up with me when Damon speaks. "We did it, Cinderella." He beams. I nod, unable to get words out without addressing what I just encountered.

I smile at him as he slides his arm around me, walking side by side as we head out of the arena. My face pales again when I notice Jared lingering by the door. "Hanna, could… we, uh—" He eyes Damon before his eyes come back down to me.