His to Possess (Mafia Kingpins #4)

9. Blake

9

BLAKE

A ngelo stays awake for exactly thirty minutes then drifts off to sleep. I’m not very surprised because he looks like the kind of guy who gets a good amount of sleep. No dark circles, no blemishes, no worry lines due to the fear that someone might be searching for him.

Even though someone is.

He doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. Just an easygoing, good time guy who all the girls probably love. And why wouldn’t they? He’s beyond gorgeous and must have a string of girlfriends.

It’s interesting to me that he belongs to a family with mafia ties, yet he doesn’t appear to be too deeply involved. Maybe it’s silly, but I always think of mafia men as broody, suit-wearing control freaks who carry a gun and aren’t afraid to use it. Kind of like me, I think. Except I try to stick to my stun gun and wear a leather jacket instead of a suit.

Angelo, on the other hand, could’ve just walked off the pages of a men’s fashion magazine. Or, straight out of the ocean with a surfboard under his arm. He’s got that laid back attitude, seemingly not a care in the world, and I wouldn’t be surprised to hear him call someone “bro.” Or, wait. What’s the correct surfer lingo? Bra? I shove a hand through my hair and sigh, not remembering or really caring.

Currently, I’m sitting in a chair, my attention split between the front door, the side window and the dangerously attractive man sleeping on the couch. He is tempting me in ways that I’ve never been tempted before. Yet, I keep wavering. I’m loath to drag him deeper into my world by exposing myself any further than I already have. Keeping him safe is my first priority, not sleeping with him.

But, damn, I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like being with a man like Angelo Rossi. My gaze drifts along his body, starting down at his feet which hang off the end of the couch. When we left the athletic club together, he quickly threw on a t-shirt, shorts and tennis shoes. Right now, he’s stretched out, slumped down on the sofa, head tilted and resting on a pillow. His long legs are crossed at the ankles and I take a moment to study his big feet, knowing that the old adage is definitely true when it comes to this man. I felt his arousal when I momentarily lost my mind and started rubbing against him. And, it’s rather impressive. Okay, more than merely impressive. It’s huge—I saw him naked.

Immediately, my attention passes over the light dusting of dark hair on his legs and travels up, up, up, pausing on his groin. There’s no missing the bulge there and he’s not even hard. I can clearly picture the moment he turned around in the gym’s shower and gave me a full frontal view of his goods. Licking my lips, I force my eyes away, trying not to be a perverted creep.

Hell, I’m not sure I would even know what to do with all that. But, I’m a trooper and enjoy a good challenge. I’m sure I’d figure it out pretty fast.

His abs are flat and I remember the ridged six pack he sports. Mmm, delicious . Moving up his body, I take a moment to admire his firm chest, straining against the cotton of his t-shirt with every breath he takes. All that tanned skin. Thinking back, I don’t remember seeing any tan lines, so maybe he’s naturally this beautiful bronzed color.

Figures, I think and roll my eyes. Too perfect for words.

Then there’s his face. Good God, it belongs to a man who should be in movies. He’s so classically handsome and possesses high, chiseled cheekbones, an angular jaw exhibiting sexy stubble and a head of thick, dark hair. And, although his eyes are currently closed, I can easily picture their deep, swirling chocolate brown color.

With a soft sigh, I drag my gaze away and cross my legs in the opposite direction. He’s not even touching me and I’m getting worked up. There’s no denying the slickness between my thighs and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to clear my head. Or, at least trying to cool off a bit.

“What am I going to do with you?” I whisper softly.

A slight rattling snags my attention causing my eyes to pop open. My head whips over to the front door and my heart starts racing. I think someone just jiggled the handle, but it stopped so fast that I begin to second guess myself. Slowly, I stand up, reach for my jacket and pull it on. I quickly pat it down and make sure I have everything I need in my pockets.

After several long minutes, I release a slow breath. I must’ve imagined it. Still I keep watching and move closer, head cocked, listening intently. When I’m within a couple feet of the door, the handle rattles. Oh, shit.

Spinning around, I silently race over to Angelo and give him a shake. His eyes pop open, briefly disoriented, and I raise a finger to my lips indicating for him to be quiet. Then I point to the door. “There’s someone out there,” I say in the lowest voice possible. “They’re trying to break in.”

Motioning for him to follow me, we hurry into the bedroom. Unlike the other safehouse, this one doesn’t have a fire escape right outside the window and I’m not liking our options—either jump onto the hard concrete below and risk breaking bones, or somehow make our way over to the ladder by crossing two balconies.

This isn’t good. But we don’t have any decent options. “I hope you can jump and climb,” I mutter.

“No problem,” he murmurs as I quietly slide the glass door open. We step out onto the narrow balcony and he immediately looks over the side.

“There’s a fire ladder over there,” I say, pointing to it. “We need to get over to it and climb up onto the roof.”

He nods, looking ready to go, and I feel strangely proud of him. I know he isn’t used to running for his life like this.

“Follow me,” I say, moving to the far side of the tiny balcony. He stays right with me, but then I hear him groan under his breath.

“That ladder is nowhere near us. How the hell are we supposed to reach it?” He’s looking around my shoulder, gauging the distance to the ladder then peering over the edge of the balcony to the ground below again.

“Stop looking at the ground,” I tell him. “It’ll just freak you out.”

“I’m not scared of heights,” he informs me. “I’m just calculating how to land without breaking every bone in my body.”

There’s no time for a debate. I swing a leg over the balcony’s wrought-iron railing, study the distance then take a leap over empty air. My body slams into the neighbor’s balcony and I swing over the rail. Almost there. Angelo hisses a curse behind me, but I can see him following suit.

“Hurry!” I whisper-hiss. Heart in my throat, I watch him jump with ease then climb over the rail and step up beside me. “Good job. Now we just need to go up.”

Whoever was at the door is probably now in the apartment and there’s not a second to spare.

“Help me up!” Urgency has me hustling up onto the edge of the railing, and Angelo moves just as quickly which I greatly appreciate.

“I don’t like this,” he grumbles, helping me stand up on the railing.

Luckily, I have fantastic balance and this is nothing. Stretching out, I reach for the ladder and wrap my fingers around the side bar. Then I swing over, grab the opposite side of the rung with my other hand and secure my feet on a lower rung. Angelo is climbing up onto the railing when a woman steps onto the balcony behind him.

Fuck. It’s Vixen, the other female bounty hunter I’ve run into on occasion. She isn’t very friendly and I’ve never trusted her. Apparently with good reason—because there’s only one reason she’s here right now. She wants to take me and Angelo in and collect the reward money.

Not gonna happen.

When Angelo should be jumping, he pauses to look over his shoulder.

“Hey, handsome,” Vixen purrs, her green gaze on his ass. “Fancy meeting you out here.”

“Angelo, jump!” I yell. He takes a flying leap, grabs the ladder and I start climbing up. “Don’t stop!”

“You’re going to make this hard on me, aren’t you, Butterfly?” Vixen asks, hand on her hip.

“I thought you didn’t take a job for under $100k, Vixen.” I keep moving, hand over hand, but I’ve got my eyes on Vixen. She’s the type to pull a fast one and I need to keep Angelo safe.

“I don’t, but they just upped the reward to two-fifty,” she informs me with a dangerous smile.

Shitshitshit. Not good.

“I never did anything to you,” I remind her. “Let us go and I’ll owe you.”

“Okay…for a mil. I’m ready to retire and that will help me sail off into the sunset.”

A million dollars? Is she crazy?

“I’m open to negotiation,” I tell her even though it’s a lie. I’m trying to buy us some time. The ladder is too narrow for Angelo to pass me unless he literally climbs up and over my body. So he’s moving up slowly behind me. I drop my head back and see we’re still about three more floors from reaching the top.

“Can I ask you something?” Angelo looks over at Vixen.

“No, keep moving!” I snap.

“You can ask me anything you want, handsome,” she says, eyeing him like a cat before it pounces on the canary.

“What did I do to get caught in the middle of all this?”

“Angelo!” I’m about to whack him on the head with the heel of my boot. Why is he even talking to her?

“You must’ve done something to piss off Carmine Gallo,” she states, then looks down at her fingernails. She frowns as though she just discovered a chipped nail. “Look, I don’t feel like chasing you all the way up there and further screwing up my manicure. So I’ll see you when you reach the ground.”

Not if I can help it. And who in the actual fuck is this Carmine Gallo character? I wonder. I pick up my pace and feel the ladder shake slightly with our combined weight. When I reach the top, I climb up onto the roof and let out a sigh. That could’ve been bad, but luckily Vixen isn’t one to pursue her prey too hard. She much prefers an easy catch. I guess I can’t blame her. At this point, we’re at the top of our game and only doing this to pad our Cayman Island bank accounts. Not because any of us actually need the money.

So the fact that she’s demanding one million dollars from me is damn annoying. Retiring, though, is sounding better and better.

Angelo moves up onto the roof, stands up straight and looks around. “Now what?” he asks.

That’s a damn good question. Instead of answering him, I stalk around, peering over the edge of the building, and looking for a potential escape route. But, nothing looks too promising and if Vixen is waiting down by my car—which I’m sure she is—then I need to figure out another way to evade her.

“I’m working on it,” I mumble.

“So, I take it that is a fellow co-worker of yours?”

I turn and glare at him. “Vixen is nothing but trouble and she’ll hand us over to the highest bidder without thinking twice.”

“Good to know. Well, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Suddenly, I stop short as a terrible thought hits me. If Vixen found us then it’s only a matter of time before the others do. If we get trapped up here on this roof, we’re as good as dead.

“We need to move fast,” I say, heading for the rooftop door. Of course, it’s locked. “Shit.”

Angelo moves up behind me. “What? You can’t pick a lock?”

His superior tone galls me. “No. Can you?” I shoot back, expecting him to say no.

“Actually, I can. Move over, kitten.”

Surprised, I take a step back and watch as he drops down in front of the lock, taking a moment to study it. I’m not sure what to expect. He looks up at me and says, “I need a long thin piece of metal. Got anything?”

“Uh…” I think fast then start scouring the rooftop. “I’ll find something.”

A minute later, I run back over and hand him a piece of wire. “Will this work?” I ask.

He takes the wire and bends it, fashioning the one end into a hook. “We’re about to find out.”

Crossing my arms, I watch closely as he sticks the end of the wire into the keyhole, sliding it in, and then jiggling it around a bit. It’s just like you see in the movies and on television, and I sure hope he knows what he’s doing.

“I’m no expert,” he says, working the lock, “but I did learn a few tricks from the mafia. My dad taught me how to pick a lock and my mom taught me how to make the world’s best cannoli.”

Despite our dire situation, I can’t help but smile. “Once we’re safe, I wouldn’t mind trying some of that cannoli.”

The lock clicks, the door opens and Angelo looks up at me, dark eyes shining in triumph. “It’s a date, la mia farfalla.”

I must be losing my mind. Why did you make a date with him? I ask myself. Are you insane? Once we’re out of this situation, my plan is to get far, far away. Or, at least that was my original intent. Now I’m entirely too confused. Focus, Blake.

“C’mon,” I say, urging him on. “We need to get out of here before every bounty hunter and assassin in the city shows up.”

Because that would really, really suck on every level.