Tempting My Mafia Wife (The Temptation #4)

1. Boys Not Men

Boys Not Men

“So it’s decided.” Allegra raised her Aperol Spritz in the air between us. “Men officially suck.” Then she held up her finger. “Correction. Boys suck. There aren’t any men left. Just silly boys who are only good for one thing, which lasts all of five minutes if we’re lucky.”

I clinked my cocktail glass against hers before taking a large gulp. “And most of them can’t even do that right.”

She pouted, lowering her glass. “Well, if Orlando didn’t even know where the clit was, then I say good riddance and best of luck to Miss Red Thong. They deserve a very unsatisfying life together.”

“Oh, he knew exactly where the clit was. He just thought it was for decoration, not the main event.”

“The boy will not go far in life.”

A tipsy giggle spilled out of me. “Well, who needs a man when I have the most amazing best friend in the world? Maybe we should just become lovers. I’d wear a strap-on for you.”

She scrunched her nose. “You’re way too hot for me. I like to be the most attractive one in the relationship. And you know I have a soft spot for dad-bods and beards. You can’t give me either.”

I groaned, sinking lower into my drink. “Wow. Rejected twice in one night. I'm heading to the cat shelter after this. I just need someone to keep my feet warm at night. Cats can do that, right?”

“You are only thirty, Aria. Calm the fuck down and buy some socks.”

I dropped my forehead onto the table. Orlando may not have been rocking my world, but he had his shit together, loved his family, and was charming, which was rare to find nowadays.

I had jumped in and hoped for the best. I wasn’t in love with the man, but it was still depressing knowing even the seemingly good ones turn out to be shitheads.

Not that I was desperate for a relationship or a man.

I just couldn’t stand the bullshit anymore.

The endless stream of bad dates with bad men with no manners or ‘fuck boys’ who pretended to give a shit, only to ghost you after they finally got what they wanted.

Or decide that even though you’ve been together for four months, you never officially said you were exclusive out loud, therefore, fucking a random girl and trying to suggest her thong was yours was deemed appropriate behaviour.

“Come on.” Allegra shoved my phone under my nose, already open on a dating app. “I refuse to give up. There must be one decent man out there who knows how to write the alphabet with his tongue.”

“You know that’s a myth, don’t you?”

She frowned. I laughed.

“Name one woman who has ever had an orgasm from a man spelling out the alphabet with his tongue.”

She thought hard, tapping her chin. “Okay, fine. So it might be a myth.”

I clicked my screen to black with a smirk, and she huffed.

“In fact,” I picked up my phone, and to drive the point home, I deleted the app.

“I’m done with online dating altogether.

I can’t do it anymore. It’s exhausting and soul-destroying.

The next man I meet needs to knock me off my bloody feet with his physical presence.

Or I’ll just sign up for one of those Married at First Sight shows.

At least those men are vetted and matched by experts, which is clearly what I need because I'm no good at choosing men for myself.”

“Cutting out the crap and going straight to the ring. I like it.” She raised her glass again, knocking it against mine.

I glanced around at the swanky lobby of the brand-new five-star hotel she was staying at for two nights.

Allegra was a high-profile social media influencer.

She earned enough money from posting video reviews and engaging live with her followers at the most elite, invite-only events that she quit her retail job and was now living the life of the rich and famous.

Fake it until you make it was her life’s motto, and it was working out well for her.

I met her three years ago at one of the first events she ever crashed, back when she had only six hundred followers.

As the Mayor of Rome, my father sometimes forced me to attend stuffy socialite events as his dutiful daughter.

That night, I’d been hiding out in the toilets with a bottle of champagne to escape the unbearable political talk.

Allegra climbed through the bathroom window, and that was it; we became instant friends with a simple, ‘Is that the expensive stuff?’

“This place is nice. I think my papi approved the building permits for it, actually.”

“My room has a hot tub on the balcony and the bed rocks if you request it.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “Like a cot?”

She nodded, smiling. “I slept like a baby.” Her brown eyes suddenly lit up with excitement, a devious idea forming. “Oh merda! I forgot to tell you about the spa!”

“Don’t tell me you got wrapped in trout sperm-soaked seaweed again.”

“It was salmon sperm, and no. I had a wonderful massage from a Thai lady, but that wasn’t what was so interesting.

There were so many women relaxing in the waiting room, and when I asked one girl what treatment they were all there for, she said…

” Allegra leaned over the table, her eyes glistening. “The Cesare Special.”

“Right,” I enunciated slowly. “And what is that?”

Allegra glanced over her shoulder to check that the bustling bar wasn’t paying us any attention. When she was satisfied, she whispered, “A very talented male masseur who… gives women happy endings.”

My eyes widened. My jaw dropped. “In a hotel like this? Really?”

“Upperclass women need orgasms too, Aria. In fact, they’d pay damn good money for it.”

“Wow,” I breathed, raising my eyebrows. “Good for them.”

Oh no. That devious smile was back on her face as she picked up her phone. My gut twisted. I tried to dart across the table to grab it from her hands, but she was too quick, standing up and stepping out of my reach.

“Ally! Don't!”

“There. All booked. Your Cesare Special is in half an hour. You can thank me later.”

My cheeks flamed as my head whipped from side to side. “No. No way. I’m not going. I’m going to kill you! My papi knows people here, Allegra!”

“I didn’t use your name. Obviously!” She rolled her eyes and sat back down. “I booked you under a fake name. They never check these things. Just give them my room number.”

“I’m not going!”

“Arianna! You just found out your boyfriend, who never gave you a single orgasm, was cheating on you. You. Are. Going.”

I covered my eyes, hiding my mortification. “I’m not paying for sex, Ally! I’m not that desperate.”

When she didn’t respond, I dropped my hands to find her giving me a suggestive look. I scoffed, shaking my head.

“It’s not full sex. It’s just an orgasm. And I’m paying, my treat to put a spring back in your step. How long has it been since you had an orgasm that wasn't from a powered toy?”

My eyes darted around the bar, even though no one was listening. “A while.”

“And I don't care what anyone says. Nothing beats a tongue that knows what it is doing. And, this is guaranteed or your money back.”

That made me pause. “Really? He’s that confident? What if–”

“He’s that confident,” she interrupted, bobbing her head, knowing she had piqued my interest. Damn. “Look. If you get in there and decide you can’t go through with it, you just have a lovely massage by an attractive man.”

“Oh,” Well, that didn’t sound so bad. “So he doesn’t…”

“Go down on you? Only if you ask for the special. I’ve just booked you a full-body massage with Cesare. He’ll ask you if there’s anything else he can do for you when you’re in there, and if you want it, you ask for the special. That’s it.”

I licked my lips, my heart hammering against my ribs. God help me, I was tempted by the idea. Okay, maybe I was desperate. I didn’t do one-night stands, but this wasn’t that. And a woman had needs after all. My vibrator was getting sick of me.

I picked up my cocktail and drank the rest in one go before slamming the empty glass on the table.

“Okay.”

“Si! That’s my girl.”

“I can’t believe I’m considering this. I probably won’t go through with it. But I have been meaning to book a massage for a while. My back is in bits from all the night shifts.”

I worked as the hospital night administrator, a high-pressure, demanding role I loved despite the chaos and stress. When I was at work, there was no room to think about anything else. And I was my own person, respected by my colleagues for the work I did and not because I was the Mayor’s daughter.

“Exactly.” Allegra winked. My eyes widened when I realised I needed to run up to her room quickly to shave because…yeah, it was a mess down there.

“I think I’m going to need another drink before, though.”

“Let’s make it a shot. You need to be there fifteen minutes before your appointment.”

“I can’t do shots. I have to go to work in four hours!”

“You’ll be sober, relaxed, and gloriously sated by then, girl! Orlando who?”

That felt like a stretch, but I admired her positivity.