Texting My Mafia Savior (Text Me You Love Me #11)

Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

NICO

I stand at the window, looking down at the street. It’s empty. No mob cars. No enforcers. No hitmen. It’s as if the dark, quiet street represents a version of reality we might accept if we were to sacrifice Lucia. We could give her to Dominic, a man whose record of abuse and sadism is well-known in the city. We could wake up tomorrow and I could take Arria on the date she was talking about.

But we can’t. My phone buzzes on the bedside table. It’s Arria texting me, my angel.

Arriana: Let me help. Don’t say I’m too weak. That it’ll eat away at me, or whatever. The only way that could be true is if Dominic or Enzo were good people. So let me ask you—do they deserve this?

Me: They deserve worse than what I’d do to them .

Arriana: So what’s the issue?

Me: The issue is YOU, Arria. Do you seriously think I’m going to let you risk yourself? Do you seriously think I’m going to give Enzo the chance to hurt you, too?

Arriana: What I said at dinner is true. If I can make my decision about us, why not about this?

I sit on the bed, groaning. She’s too gorgeously clever and beautifully stubborn for me.

Me: We shouldn’t even be texting each other.

Arriana: I know Dad wouldn’t approve. I get that. But I don’t care. Right now, I only care about The Nightmare, my savior, and he’s not making any sense.

Me: It’s not complicated. If something happened to you, Arria, I’d never be able to forgive myself.

Arriana: Maybe you should consider that I’d never forgive MYSELF if I let Aunt Lucy do this. She’s doing it for you, sure, but she’s also doing it to keep me safe.

I grit my teeth, my jaw clenching so hard it feels almost painful. There’s a fire in me that flares so hotly whenever I think about something happening to Arria. It goes beyond reason, beyond sense… common or otherwise.

Me: What sort of savior would I be if I let that happen?

Arriana: If Enzo hurt me, what would you do?

Me: I’d tear their whole family apart. I would wage a war on them. I wouldn’t let anybody stand in my way. If they think they knew the Nightmare before, I’d show them how wrong they were. I never had a reason like you before, Arria.

My body heats as I shudder and exhale.

Arriana: You had your mom and dad, though.

Me: You read what I just said. I meant it.

Arriana: If something happened to me, you could move on and find somebody else. If you and Lucy didn’t have to keep up the lie, you’d be free to live your own life.

Me: Are you trying to bait me?

My breath comes even quicker. I wish she were here, her curvy, perfect body pressed against mine so I could slide my hands up and down her voluptuousness. I wish I could sink my hands into her thickness, pull myself close to her, and let her feel my throbbing, solid length, growing thick with purpose.

Me: No one else will do. I don’t need anybody else. I just want you, Arria.

Arriana: I just want you too. You said when you saw me outside the cafe, you felt something for the first time. It was the same for me. When I walked into the cafe, do you know what I thought? I thought, no way, that can’t be my uncle. You immediately attracted me. Every text we’ve exchanged has just made me feel that even more. But you have to let me help.

Me: I wish I could hold you.

I confess this, though it’s wrong. Her father is sleeping in this very house. I’m a guest. I’m supposed to be here as a protector. But speaking with Arria, even over the phone, with just words in a text, changes me. It already has changed me. I’ll never be the same cynical, bitter man who walked into that cafe.

Arriana: I want that too. What if we’re quiet?

Me: No . We can’t disrespect your father like that.

Arriana: Don’t you want it too?

Me: I need it . If you were here, I’d wrap my arms around you, pull you close, let you feel the heat blazing through my body. I’d let you feel the fire you’ve ignited in me. Before you, Arria, my angel, I was cold. I was nothing. I was a husk. I was empty. I was soulless. Exhausted from my work as an enforcer, only my pro bono work kept me alive. My time in the mafia haunted me.

Arriana: Keep going.

I’m trembling all over. I’ve felt nothing like this before, an influx of hot emotion making me feel drunk, lightheaded.

Me: I never thought I could feel this NATURAL. That really gets me about us, Arria. Nothing ever feels forced. It should feel impossible. But texting you for a few minutes feels more natural, effortless, and easier than an entire night would with any other woman. Before Lucy, I tried to date.

Arriana: Tried?

Me: I say ‘tried’ because I did it thinking I had to, that it was simply what men did… they found a woman, they dated, they started a family. But it always felt forced. Like I was trying to make myself play a role. It never felt right. But then I looked out of a cafe window, and there you were. You changed my life the moment I saw you.

Arriana: I don’t enjoy thinking of you with other women . I know how that sounds. I know it’s not fair. When I thought you were actually with Aunt Lucy, it made me so jealous. I’m jealous now, thinking about your past. How silly is that?

Me: I want you to be jealous. I want you to feel possessive over me. Because, Arria, you perfect virgin, I felt possessive over you the moment I laid eyes on you.

My breath is coming so damn fast I’m practically panting like a dog. I close my eyes, try to calm myself down.

Arriana: Let me help. It’s the only way we can try to build a future together.

Me: What about your dad? What about your travels? What if it all goes wrong?

Arriana: I said TRY. We both know we can’t make any promises. This might crash and burn. But I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering if I could’ve saved Aunt Lucy… and I’d never, ever forgive myself if I didn’t fight for us. I’m willing to fight for us, Nico. Are you?

Me: I’d fight the entire city, the entire world, for you. I’d fight an entire army. Never ask me that. Never doubt that.

Arriana: I’m coming to see you right now.

Me: Don’t, Arria. It’s not right. We can’t disrespect your dad.

Arriana: We don’t have to do anything. I just want you to hold me. I’m cold. And lonely. It hurts knowing you’re so close but not able to touch you.

I’m in the middle of typing another message when the door creaks open. Fuck . The second I lay eyes on her, it’s like I forget everything and everybody else. It’s as if tomorrow doesn’t exist. Even the rest of this house doesn’t exist.

She stands as a curvy silhouette in the semidarkness, wearing PJ shorts, her thick thighs glimmering in the light, looking so tempting I almost roar. A tank top clings to her curvy swells, her nipples poking through the fabric. Her hair is wild, sexy, and messy. She closes the door behind her, giving me a view of her ass, then turns the lock.

I stand up, trembling all over. Already, my hunger is growing solid. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know,” she whispers, tiptoeing over to me. She puts her hand on my chest. It causes both of us to make hungry noises. “But really, Nico, none of this should be happening. None of this was part of our plan, was it?”

“We need to be good,” I tell her. “You just want me to hold you, remember?”

She nods, making a hmm noise. It’s like she’s trying to tempt me, to make me crazy. I lie down on the bed and pull her into my arms. She wriggles closer to me, pushing the round, juicy globes of her ass against my crotch. I’m wearing boxers and a T-shirt, nothing else. My rod grows thick and hard, grinding against her ass.

She shifts against me.

“Don’t,” I say, but my voice is weak, my resolve weaker.

“I’m just shivering because I’m cold.”

I wrap my arm around her and hug her even closer to me. It’s like our bodies are on the verge of melting together.

“I never knew I was attractive until I met you,” she whispers.

“That’s a damn shame,” I groan. “It’s a tragedy. An outrage. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“Really?”

I slide my hand down her hip, let my fingers sink greedily into her fullness. There’s so much of her to grab, to caress, to obsess over. Every inch is an adventure. My balls swell with my seed.

“Really,” I snarl. “The fact that nobody has ever told you that is good and bad. It’s bad because you’ve been living a lie, thinking something that couldn’t be further from the truth. But it’s so, so good, too, Arria. It means I get to be the first to show you how perfect you are…”

I try to stop myself. This has been wrong from the start, but it’s even worse now. In her father’s home, with her parents sleeping down the hall. She’s still my niece, even if a divorce is imminent.

But then I slip my hand from her hip, over her stomach, down toward her shorts. I slide my hand under her waistband and over the mound of her sex, groaning when my fingers stroke across her clit. She gasps, sticking her ass out, pushing her fullness against my throbbing, pulsating length.

I glide my hand lower. She’s wet for me, her entrance hot and sticky. I have to push my mouth against the back of her neck and kiss her so I don’t make a noise that could wake her parents.

She grabs my wrist, gesturing for me to rub faster.

“You horny, excitable virgin,” I growl.

“I’m just a—lady who—knows what she…” she gasps. “Wants.”

I try to get myself to stop, aware this is wrong, aware that her dad might pound on the door any second. He’d bellow at me, “You’re her uncle. What’s wrong with you?” But I can’t stop, not when I feel her haven gushing with so much hot wetness, her folds feeling swollen, flooded with pleasure, her clit inflamed against my hand.

She shifts in time with me, each tempting movement of her hips causing her ass to grind against my rod. I kiss the back of her neck, burying my face, tasting her, smelling her, owning her. She’s my virgin. I don’t care anymore if I’m supposed to be strong, or if it’s insane, or any of that crap. She’s mine, mine, mine. At this moment, with her body pressed against mine, with her heat smearing over my hand, I’ve never been more certain about anything.

When I rub her slickness, I don’t expect her body to tremble so quickly. She shudders against me, her ass grinding up and down my rod, making me harder, hungrier. I’m constantly on the edge of yelling out in wild desire. I have to kiss her, bite her.

She gasps, then her pussy gets somehow even wetter, her hole seeping with desire as I grind my palm against her nub and smooth my fingers over her entrance and between her folds. She arches her back, pushes against me so that precome leaks out of my tip, makes my underwear sticky. Her orgasm makes her entire body shudder.

“Oh my God,” she moans quietly.

“We shouldn’t,” I growl, but my hand is already on her shorts, pulling them down, her underwear tangled up in my urgent fist.

“I know…”

But she’s not stopping me. In fact, she’s wriggling out of her shorts and underwear, shifting from side to side as if she’s desperate to be as close to me as she can get. She needs my nakedness as urgently as I need hers.

Once her bottoms are off, she rolls over and tugs at my boxers. I grab them, then lean up on my shoulders so that I can pull them down. She moans as she wraps her hand around my naked length. I bite down, almost roar, almost howl. She makes me unhinged.

“You’re big,” she whispers, as her hand strokes up and down from my tip to my base, making my entire length slick with my precome. “I’m a virgin, remember?”

“I’ll be gentle,” I tell her, but my tone says otherwise. It’s husky. It’s savage.

“Be my savior,” she whispers, moaning as she strokes. “Be—be nice.”

I roll on top of her, reaching down between our bodies to grab my cock, then guid myself to her entrance. She stares up at me with those gorgeous, wide, almost shocked eyes, like she can’t believe what we’re doing, can’t believe how good it feels. I’m right there with her.

Minutes ago, I was telling her we could just hold each other. That was it. But now…

I feel a moment of her soaked hole, her pussy kissing my end. But then, her dad’s voice—“Arria?”

I stop and pull away. Even now, though, I want to keep going. I want to drive my cock deep inside her tight, virgin slit. I want to glide inside so she knows we go way beyond texting and knows she’s mine.

“Arria?”

The sound of a door creaking. Not mine, one down the hall. Just that word, mine , suddenly feels foolish. What am I even thinking? It’s her heat, her closeness, just her. She makes me feel drunk. She makes thinking logically impossible.

I pull away, shaking my head. “You need to leave. What are we doing?”

She sits up. I can tell that hearing her dad’s voice has jolted her from whatever craziness has taken hold of her, just like it has with me.

“I arranged pillows on my bed before I left,” she murmurs. “To look like I was sleeping.”

I almost laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah…”

The door makes a creaking noise again. I hear her father’s footsteps walk down the hallway. There’s another creaking noise, presumably as he goes into his bedroom. She sits up, reaching for her shorts. I have to stand and go to the window. Otherwise, I’ll pounce on her again. My dick is still rock-solid, the tension surging up my shaft, my balls feeling so goddamn full.

“How are you going to tell Lucy about our plan?” she asks, changing the subject.

“Tomorrow, during the divorce proceedings, I’ll get a message to her.”

“And then it’ll be up to us.” She wriggles into the shorts and walks around the bed. I turn, facing her. She looks so determined. “Lucy and I will bring them to you, and you’ll…”

She shudders. I rush to her, grip her shoulders, lean down and kiss her. Hard. With fiery passion. She throws her arms around me and squeezes on tightly. I’m sure I can feel her eager nipples poking through her shirt. Her heart pounds against me, our tongues caressing, the pleasure expanding between us.

“How can I be so sure ?” she whispers, digging her fingernails into my arms and staring up at me. Her eyes glisten like she might cry, but it might just be the semidarkness. “We’ve texted more than talked…”

“Maybe that’s how,” I tell her. “By texting, we haven’t let self-consciousness hold us back. We haven’t been able to rely on the physical aspect. Through our texts, we’ve shown the most truthful versions of ourselves, Arria.”

“You’re so romantic,” she whispers, leaning up and kissing me again.

“Nobody’s ever called me that before.”

“Good. That means I get to be your first, too.”

I grab her waist, gently pushing her away. “You have to go. We’ve already had one close call.”

“Soon, this will be over. We’ll beat the Caruso Family. Save Aunt Lucy. Then we can be together.”

“You know what that means, don’t you?” I growl. “It means I’ll be adding two bodies to my list. It means if you still want to be with me, you’ll be with a killer.”

“I don’t care,” she hisses. “You’re a good person even if you’ve done bad things.”

As she leaves the room, we hold hands until the very last moment—until we’re forced to let go. I go to the door, listening as she walks down the hallway, my body still hot, heart pumping, blood boiling, my mind filled with everything that could go wrong. But also, for the first time in my life, with everything that could go right, too.