Chapter 7
Massimo
“Why don’t you head on upstairs and take a hot shower to get extra warmed up,” I tell Hadley once we’re back inside the safe, confined walls of the cabin. If so much as even a window opens, the alarms are going to notify me.
Hadley’s eyes linger on a still shivering Amos before she slowly nods her head and makes her way upstairs. My eyes follow her until she’s out of sight.
I know what just happened freaked her out. Hell, it freaked me out even more. My son almost fucking died. He could have been taken right before my eyes, and I wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it. Any guilt Hadley carries from thinking this was her fault because she wasn’t watching him will be fucked out of her tonight. It’s not on her. It’s on the men who I made an example of today.
She may be my captive but I’m forever in her debt whether she knows it or not. And that’s… unsettling. I vowed to never let a woman have any sort of hold on me after Amos’ mom passed. I don’t think you truly ever move on from the pain, just forward.
“I’m sorry,” Amos mumbles through chattering teeth, breaking me from my thoughts.
“Hey,” I rest my hand on his wet shoulder. “It’s not your fault. You do need to work on listening, though. Come on, let’s get you warmed up too.”
“She won’t get in trouble, right?” Amos asks as he turns back to look at me, one foot resting on the bottom step of the stairs and one hand on the railing.
“No,” I say, tone final. “Go shower.” Amos is old enough to know that he can get away with murder but not with questioning what I am and am not doing.
Heading over to the small bar cart in the living room, I pour myself a stiff drink. I’m going to fucking need it if I’m stuck inside with Hadley the rest of the day. I’m not letting either of them out of my sight. I welcome the burn the first sip of whiskey always brings. It’s enough to clear all of my senses, acting as a reset. It’s been a while since I’ve been this on edge. Usually, my men and I have no issues locating the threat and taking it out. But this? This is taking a while and that’s not sitting right with me.
“I needed that,” Hadley sighs as she comes into the living room.
She looks like she was taken right out of one of my fantasies. Her long dark hair is loose down her back, still damp from her shower. Her face is clear of any makeup, somehow making her gorgeous brown eyes pop even more. I recognize one of my T-shirts that I keep here in just in case and a pair of my old sweats. She’s fucking stunning.
My gut clenches at seeing her in my clothes. She’s not mine but she sure as hell looks like it right now.
“How is Amos doing? A scare like that doesn’t just leave your mind.” Hadley’s voice is laced with concern. The type of concern that you only have if you personally understand what it’s like to make it out on the other side after coming face to face with death—concern I should have but my stone-cold heart doesn’t allow.
“He’s fine. Worried about you, but he’s getting cleaned up.” I bring the rocks glass to my lips, taking another long sip. “We’re going to lay low and stay in tonight. You can try to run, but I’ll know. You won’t like the consequences if I have to hunt you down and bring you back.”
It takes everything in me to contain my smirk as I watch her eyebrows lower.
“If I wanted to leave, I would walk out of here, not run. I think I’ve more than proved that I can drive a car,” she snaps.
An unwelcoming sense of pride starts to fill my chest as I let the smirk I was holding back take over my face. The fact that she could have died right alongside Amos not even an hour ago and be back to throwing attitude like nothing happened is admirable. The ability to bounce back and be unfazed is a necessity in this life. I shouldn’t be proud of it; I haven’t asked for that claim. She seems to be slowly worming her way under my skin in a way I don’t know if I’ll be able to remove her.
“If you knew how to drive, you wouldn’t have spun out, Tesoro ,” I say, downing the last of my drink. “Do you want anything? Greta is around here somewhere.”
“No,” Hadley rolls her eyes. “Even if I wanted something, I would just get it myself.”
“I want cookies.” Amos announces, emerging in his pajamas.
“Cookies?” I ask. He usually isn’t one for sweets.
Hadley gasps loudly as she claps her hands together. “Let’s make Christmas cookies!”
“Yeah!” Amos shouts in excitement.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I deeply inhale, praying that this Hallmark movie scene isn’t about to play out in my kitchen. Nothing about me screams ‘let’s bake Christmas cookies.’ I can’t tell you the last time I’ve even cooked a meal. If my men were seeing this play out, I’d have to kill them just for being a witness. It would be bad for business if it got out that the head of the mafia bakes Christmas cookies with his captive.
“I’m sure Greta would be more than happy to accommodate that request,” I try to reason.
“Aw, come on, Dad. I want to frost my own,” Amos whines.
“Please, Massimo,” Hadley says quietly, drawing my attention to her. Her gorgeous brown eyes are locked on me. “I didn’t grow up with a family. I never got to do this kind of thing, but I’ve always wanted to. So please, just for tonight can we pretend it’s a massive holiday baking session?”
How can I say no to that?
“Alright,” I reluctantly agree. “Do you even know what you’re doing?” I ask to Hadley’s back as she runs after Amos into the kitchen.
I need to keep some sort of space between Hadley and me. If Amos always stays between us, it would create the boundary I need. You know, the one that will stop me from fucking her on a counter full of flour.
Hadley
I could see him about to tell Amos no, and I couldn’t let that happen. The child in me needed this experience just as much as Amos. This is probably my only shot. I don’t exactly have a lot waiting for me once whatever this mess is gets taken care of. What use would he have for me? His proposition of warming his bed will only last so long until he’s bored. I’ll end up going back to my dead-end job and shitty car that barely starts.
“Do you want to help me find all of the stuff we need to make these?” I ask Amos. It’s the most awkward feeling looking through someone else’s cabinets trying to find things.
“Yes!” Amos exclaims with excitement. I rattle off each ingredient one by one, watching the happiness increase with each one he finds.
Massimo is standing in the corner of the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop with a soft smile that I only ever see come out when he’s looking at his son. He doesn’t show it often, but you can tell he loves that boy more than anything.
“Alright, let’s make this dough,” I say excitedly.
We spend the next three hours rolling, cutting, baking, and frosting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many cookies in my life. Every shape and size is laid out in front of us, covered in red, green, and white frosting. Much to my disappointment, Massimo didn’t join in. It’s stupid to even feel like that, and a part of me hates that I do. He never left his spot in the corner. One thing I did notice, though, that smile never left his face. I swear I even caught him looking at me like that once.
“I think you’ve had enough cookies, Amos,” Massimo says just as Amos shoves his sixth cookie in his mouth. “You need to brush your teeth because it’s time for bed.”
“But I don’t want to go to bed.”
“The cookies will still be here in the morning. Bed, now,” Massimo says, tone final.
“Fine.” Amos’ shoulders slump. “Goodnight, Hadley.”
“Goodnight, Amos. Thank you for baking with me,” I say with a smile as he leaves the kitchen to head up to bed before turning my attention to Massimo. “I’m going to get all of this cleaned up and then I think I’m going to go to bed as well. Today has been draining.”
“Greta will take care of this. Head up, and I’ll meet you there,” Massimo says as he slowly stalks towards me. My heart races with every step he takes.
“I can’t just leave this for her. I know you don’t live a normal life, but in my world, people would call that rude.”
“Yeah? Well, we’re not in your world, Tesoro . We’re in mine.” He brings his hand to my face, making me freeze in anticipation of what he’s going to do. “It’s about time you remember that.” His finger lightly brushes the tip of my nose. My breath catches in my throat as I watch him bring that same finger to his mouth and lick it clean. “You had a little frosting on your nose. Go to bed.”
The finality in his tone has me leaving the kitchen without another word. I learned at a very young age to pick my battles, and this one isn’t worth fighting. Not when I’m so mentally and physically drained.
Changing into a shirt to sleep in, I climb into bed and turn off the light on the nightstand, leaving me waiting in the dark for Massimo to join me.
“Take your shirt off.” I can barely make out Massimo’s silhouette in the doorway.
“What?”
“Take it off. Don’t make me say it again,” Massimo says, his voice rough.
Something in his tone is telling me now is not the time to test him. Grabbing the hem of the shirt, I pull it over my head, discarding it on the floor beside the bed.
“Good girl,” he rumbles. “Lie back.”
I assume the position, scooching down until the pillow is right under my head. I can hear Massimo enter the room and his clothes being discarded. The sound of his belt hitting the hard floor sends a tingle down my spine.
Massimo stays silent as he kneels on his side of the bed. Just as I’m about to ask what he’s doing, his hands wrap around my wrists, pressing them together and raising them above my head. Something smooth and cool touches my skin. What is he doing? My skin pinches slightly as Massimo binds my wrists together.
“What are you doing?” I ask, trying not to panic as I tug slightly.
“Hold still,” Massimo growls. The material is wrapped around my wrists a few more times before I hear it clinking against the wrought iron bed frame, probably being wrapped around that too. The sound of something being pushed into a wall, making that light pop sound. Two more seconds and a bright glow is shining above my head.
“Did you seriously just tie me to the bed with Christmas lights?” I ask, dumbfounded. Who knew Mr. Grinch, who wouldn’t even make a Christmas cookie, would want to be so festive?
“I like the way you look tied to my bed all lit up,” Massimo rumbles as he moves to hover over me. “I bet the lights aren’t the only thing lit up.” He lightly trails a finger from where my wrists are bound down the side of my body until he reaches my cunt that’s been aching for him all day. His finger drags up my slit, proving him right.
I gasp at the contact, my hips rising as they try to follow his hand.
“Your pussy is soaked, Tesoro .” He circles my entrance, hinting at what’s to come but not yet giving it to me. “Do you want this cock? It’s weeping for your cunt.” With his free hand, he gives himself a hard stroke. Precum is dripping off the fat, mushroom head.
“Yes,” I breathe out. “I want it.”
“Tell me what I want to hear.”
He’s going to do this now?
“I don’t know what that is,” I answer, not quite ready to give in even though my body is betraying me.
Two fingers slam into me without warning, making a long moan escape.
“Shh. Amos can’t hear us. Don’t make me shove the extra lights in your mouth.” He sets a fast and furious pace. The only noises that can be heard in the room are our heavy breathing and the sound of his fingers slamming into my drenched pussy. I can feel my walls start to flutter and that familiar tingling at the base of my spine starting. “Hold it,” Massimo growls.
“I can’t,” I gasp, arching my back.
Massimo abruptly removes his fingers, making me cry out. “No,” I whine, almost at the point of tears. I was right there.
“Tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll make you come so fucking hard.”
“I’m already sharing your bed with you, it’s all the answer you need,” I cry out in defeat.
Massimo slams his cock to the hilt, knocking the breath out of me. He doesn’t give me time to adjust to his size before he’s pounding into me, control out the window.
“Yeah,” Massimo growls. “That’s it. You take me so well, Tesoro . You feel how tight your cunt squeezes my cock? Milk me, Bella . Milk me now.” One more thrust and I explode, taking him over the edge with me.
Massimo collapses on me, giving me his weight, but I don’t mind. I welcome the safety blanket for the short time I know I’ll have it. I’m sure I’ll regret giving in to his demands about practically admitting to him that I’m his… but it’s not like he gave me much of a choice in the matter. Giving in will have to be tomorrow’s problem.
Once we both have regained our breath, Massimo rolls off me.
“You can untie me now,” I say, tugging on the binds to make my point. “The lights are starting to feel a little warm.”
“I like seeing you at my mercy,” Massimo smirks as he unplugs the lights and unwraps everything.
“Yeah, I’m sure you do.” I roll my eyes as I move my wrists in a circular motion, trying to take the small ache from being locked in that position away. “If it’s safe tomorrow, I’d—” I start to say before I’m cut off by the loud sound of glass shattering downstairs.