Page 114 of Mafia And Maid

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Page 114 of Mafia And Maid

“Come out when you can?” I whisper.

She nods, and I capture her mouth once more, taking her bottom lip between my teeth. The small sound from her is swallowed by me while I fight the urge to throw her over my shoulder and show her just what she does to me without even trying.

Instead, I step back, exercising some herculean control over my dick and body. Her glazed expression sends my body thrumming with need. Soon. Not soon enough, but soon, I can sink into her once again.

“Don’t overwork,” I order, capturing her lips once more, before breaking away with a smirk and a playful swat to her ass as she moves away. Without seeing her face, I know that delicious pink color is painting her cheeks, and her beautiful lips are slightly parted. My girl knows what she’s missing.

I walk with Ethan toward the back of the mansion and the mudroom, the little boy bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Ready?”

“Ready,” he chirps.

I guide Ethan toward the side of the house where Marco, Alessio, and Lorenzo are already setting up. Ethan stops beside me, gripping my sweatpants nervously.

“Hey,” I start, bending down to be eye level, “they’re just here to have fun with us. They’ll set up while we go over the basics. Is that okay?”

“Are they going to play with us?”

“Yeah, if you want.”

To my surprise, Ethan nods. I stand with a smile and lead him on.

A tight nod is all I give the guys as we get closer.

“Okay, buddy, you ready?”

“Uh huh…” He’s nervous, rocking on his small feet as my brothers and cousin approach, sporting our red family baseball jerseys.

“Okay, first, safety.”

Marco moves slowly behind me, extending the helmet and jersey for Ethan to take.

The little boy glances at them, then at me.

“These are yours.”

“Mine?” he squeaks.

I nod. “You can take them. I’ll help you put them on.”

“Does Momma have one?”

“I think I can persuade her to wear one too.” The thought of Rosa in a jersey with ‘Marchiano’ on the back does something to me. And the image of her alone in it with nothing underneath does something even more. I clear my throat, reminding myself that I have an audience who can clearly see everything going on.

His fingers move over the threaded embroidery of his name on the back. “That’s my name,” he says in awe.

“Sure is. Now you’re one of us.”

The look Ethan spears me with nearly knocks me over. It’s like a sucker punch to the gut, and I’m left hanging on for dear life to stop me from falling apart.

No one has ever looked at me the way he is—like I’d just given him the world on a silver platter. Like I’m some sort of superhero.

Suddenly, little arms shoot up and wrap tightly around my waist.

Awkwardly, I kneel, unsure what to do.

Ethan’s never hugged me before.




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