Taking Care Of The Mobster: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 2

  “I’ll leave you to settle in,” Sarah says. “If you need anything, I’ll be in the kitchen. I don’t leave until six PM.”

  “You don’t live here,” I ask, ignoring the trepidation starting anew in the pit of my stomach. I’d been relieved to find out that another woman lived in the house. But now, it looks like my hopes have just been dashed.

  “No, I don’t,” Sarah replies. “Carlos doesn’t like people infringing on his personal space. I usually come in every three days to clean and make meals. But since the unfortunate incident, I’ve come in every day to look after him. It’s a good thing you’re here now.”

  “I guess,” I say dumbly, swallowing down the million questions that pop into my head all at once. I want to ask how a nice woman like Sarah came to work for a man like Carlos Rodriguez. I want to ask how she seems so comfortable in his home.

  I have a lot to ask, but instead, I excuse myself and enter my room after thanking Sarah once more.

  The room is wide with a huge bed and exotic artworks placed in strategic parts of the room. The interior design is as classy as the rest of the house and surprisingly warm.

  I lower myself to the bed and drop my head into my hands with a sigh. I stay like that until I feel like I can stand to face my reality. I stand slowly and begin my routine of changing into something comfortable.

  I decide to check up on Carlos before giving in to my tiredness. I exit my room and head toward the door opposite mine.

  I take a deep breath and slowly push open the door to Carlos’s bedroom. The room is twice as big as mine with dark polished furniture that gives off the unmistakable vibe of a bachelor’s pad.

  I slowly walk toward the huge bed and take in the large man sleeping peacefully on it. Carlos Rodriguez in all of his unconscious glory. Despite laying immobile on the bed, his beauty was undeniable. If the Greek gods were chosen for their looks, Carlos would definitely be of a high rank with his dark looks and vigorous aura.

  I lower myself into the chair beside his bed, strangely mesmerized by the sharp angles of his face and contradicting stillness that seems so out of place. His long lashes cast fascinating shadows on his cheeks, drawing my attention to his sexy, firm lips, slightly parted from sleep.

  How can a man with so much history of violence look so tranquil?

  I sigh and let my gaze skim to the bandages wrapped clumsily around his waist and around his chest. His chest...I swallow nervously, deeply fascinated by the hard muscles of his chest, almost entirely covered in dark ink.

  I lean forward to get a closer look at his tattoos. Each line and curve, carefully drawn and intricately connected, seeming to be a part of a bigger story. It was fascinating and, at the same time, complicated.

  I might have pieced the puzzle together, except for the bandages. They ran across his shoulder, down to his chest, and around his waist. The person who applied them had done a decent, albeit clumsy job. I needed to check his wounds and change the bandages. But I couldn’t do that unless he was awake.

  I sigh and lean back in my seat. I guess I’ll just wait for him to wake up so I can get to work.

  That is if he doesn’t decide to shoot me for being in his home.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Carlos

  Gunshots echo painfully in my head.

  I feel trapped in pain – a dark place that I can’t escape. I know I’m way in over my head. I’m not a coward that won’t fight back when being beaten down. But this time, it’s like being trapped within me by myself.

  I know in my subconscious that these are the echoes of a nightmare. I’m being punished by my demons – both past and present.

  I just need to wake up and get back to reality, a reality that isn’t much better. It’s a world where everyone thinks I’m dead. I just have to wake up and integrate myself back into life – by whatever means it takes.

  Don Pablo is probably jubilant over his victory, thinking he’s got the best of me. He attacked when least expected, despite my offer of peace.

  I will get my revenge. I will strike back when Don Pablo is at the summit of his triumph. I will hit him like a tornado, and he won’t even know from which direction. But first, I have to escape the shackles of my dreams. I have to survive. So, I struggle against the heaviness of my subconsciousness.

  I feel myself floating across several inconsequential layers.

  And finally, I open my eyes.

  I groan softly at the dull ache in my skull. I blink several times, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness.

  I turn my head and see her.

  It seems like the world suddenly stops spinning as I take in the gorgeous angel snoring softly at my bedside. Her hair is the color of warm chocolate, a glossy brown that frames her cute round face in perfect waves. Her nose is adorable and button-like, perfectly shaped.

  I pause my gaze on her slightly parted rosy lips. I imagine taking those lips with mine, sliding my tongue between and across them. I imagine biting down softly on...I have to stop before the uncomfortable tightening in my pants becomes too much to bear. My eyes move of their own accord, roaming to her breasts, slightly exposed by a mismatched button on her shirt.

  My eyes take in her generous creamy mounds.

  I suddenly feel a dry itch in my throat as my eyes slide down the soft expanse of her stomach and to a waist that spans into perfectly curvy hips that hint at an even bolder ass.

  She’s like the manifestation of every one of my wet dreams – my fantasy come to life.

  I don’t care who or what business this girl has in my house, but I bless whatever fate brought her to me. Something tells me I’ll have to tread carefully with this woman. Even ensnared in the luring arms of sleep, I can see the unguarded innocence radiating from her.

  I have the unmistakable feeling that this woman is mine to possess, protect, and cherish. She seems young – her early twenties, maybe....

  I clear my throat softly and watch, fascinated, as she startles into consciousness. She seems disoriented for a full second before her eyes register comprehension. Then, her eyes hold mine, and that is the final icing on the cake. They are her best features...her eyes. They are the color of an exotic forest with age-worthy secrets and endless fascinating tales. I would never tire of looking into those wide welcoming depths. Their warmth envelopes me, giving me a feeling that I haven’t experienced in a long time. Homecoming.

  “I...um...wasn’t sleeping,” she stutters guiltily, shaking her head slowly.

  I want to burst into laughter at how adorable she is but manage to keep a straight face. “Really?” I ask, raising my brows slightly. “You have a little drool right there.”

  Her wide eyes widen as she wipes her palm furiously across her cheeks. She looks so comically worried that I can’t help but chuckle, despite the burning pain the effort causes me.

  “Sir!” she exclaims thinking I’ve hurt myself but she catches on quickly that I’m teasing her. “You can’t joke like that.” Her eyes grow wide. She stands and rushes to my side. “Oh my God! Will you stop laughing? Your stitches are going to come undone.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say, enjoying her fuss over me. I patiently wait as she checks the bandages on my waist and chest, trying to ignore the electrifying feeling of her hands against my bare skin.

  She looks so absorbed in the examination of my wounds that I can’t help but be enraptured by her beauty as she works diligently.

  “I should change these bandages,” she murmurs to herself, still sporting a look of complete concentration. “If I can just find my way around this huge house. I need to look over your medications and meal plans. I’ll....”

  “I’m not used to being touched by strangers,” I say, avidly watching as she freezes. “Mind telling me who you are before we get so familiar?”

  I watch on in amusement as a series of emotions cross her expressive eyes until fear finally settles in their depths. She slowly pulls her hands away from my chest and places them on her lap.

  “I...um....” She bites down nervously on her lower lip, drawing my attention to the attractive curve of her lips. “I’m sorry...I’m your nurse. Pardon my manners. I’m Abby. Abby Smith. I was employed by a Miss Mandy of Diamond Investments. I don’t know the connection, and obviously, nothing makes sense. Especially, seeing as you are supposed to be dead...Oh my God!” She quickly covers her mouth with a hand.

  “That’s one hell of a comprehensive introduction,” I say with a dry snort. “For once, Mandy did a fine job without supervision,” I mutter under my breath. “Now, weren’t you about to get these damn things off me? There are new bandages in those drawers.”

  “Yes, sir,” Abby says, clearing her throat nervously.

  She pulls out the middle drawer that I point out and takes out a roll of bandages. She gingerly lowers herself to the bed, deliberately avoiding my eyes. She helps me to sit up slowly as I try hard not to wince in pain. She starts to work, taking off the bandages on my body. I can’t bring myself to take my eyes off her all the while. Finally, she balls up the used bandages and places them on the table.

  “I will...um...wrap some new bandages around you now,” she says tentatively. “It will require some touching. I’ll be as fast and gentle as I possibly can. Please, bear with me...Sir.”

  I hold back the urge to chuckle and nod my head for her to continue. This girl amuses and intrigues me at the same time – one feat no other woman has ever been able to accomplish with me. She moves tentatively closer to me and starts to consciously wrap the bandage around my chest. She leans forward and wraps her arms around me to pass the bandage around my back. Her sweet scent crowds my head, muddying my thought train.

  Her lips are just an air’s breath away – maddeningly distracting. I lean back, so her arms are trapped be
tween my back and the headrest.

  “Sit up, sir,” she says with a breathy sigh that one would use on an impudent ten year old. “I need to get the bandages around you.”

  She still seems oblivious to my gimmick and thinks I’m just generally being restless. I duck my head so that I can look into her eyes. “Why do you keep referring to me as sir? Call me by my name. You obviously know it.”

  She raises her eyes to mine, and I pin her gaze. Neither of us can look away. Neither of us can deny the sizzling attraction brewing between us. As if compelled by some unknown force, I begin to lower my head to hers. I only have a distinct idea of my actions but don’t fully conceptualize their consequences.

  I just know that I want this moment to remain frozen in time. I want to zoom in on those lustrous green eyes and confirm the budding desire in them. I want to know and confirm that Abby wants me too, albeit reluctantly.

  Suddenly, there’s a curt knock and the door swings open. Abby jumps away from me as Mandy enters the room. I feel a trickle of irritation run up my spine as Mandy sashays into the room, oblivious to her disruption.

  “Hey, Boss,” Mandy says in a high-pitched voice that’s got me wincing. She walks toward the bed without sparing a glance at Abby. She leans forward to place a kiss on my cheek and sits on the chair by my bed, crossing her legs to make her skirt ride up effortlessly.

  “I guess I should take my leave,” Abby murmurs almost to herself. She turns around and walks out of the room, giving me a good view of her backside. I was right about the generosity of her ass.

  How is everything about Abby Smith so perfect?

  “How do you like your nurse?”

  My irritation only grows with every second that Mandy remains in the room. But I guess that the feeling can be attributed to the medications that have been pumped into my system over the past few days.

  Mandy has been my secretary and trusted ally for years. She’s weathered a lot of storms with me and is an integral part of the smooth running of my businesses. At times, Mandy can be overly audacious and irritatingly snobby, but I’ve learned to ignore her shortcomings.

  She’s good at what she does, and I honestly wouldn’t trade her for anyone else.

  The fact that her presence annoys me right now goes a long way to show how affected I am by my current predicament.

  “She’s fine,” I say in response to her question, careful not to reveal anything of my feelings for Abby. “She knows her job.”

  I know what Mandy is capable of. If she has the faintest idea of my attraction to my nurse, she will waste no time in having her replaced. And I won’t be able to stop that in my current position, so it’s best to play it cool.

  “I’m glad you approve,” Mandy says with an ironic snort. “It’s a good thing she knows her stuff, even if she’s not pleasing to the eye. I mean... How did she get so fat? Eww.”

  I feel a rush of anger at Mandy’s words, but I manage to calm down the feeling. “Why did you hire her when you obviously don’t like her?” I ask through gritted teeth.

  “It’s in your best interest,” Mandy says with a dismissive wave of her manicured hand. “I mean, I know all about your...virility. I don’t want you to relapse just because your nurse is so pretty you can’t think straight. But with an ugly nurse like Smith on duty, you can’t have your mind roaming to other things now, can you? She’s not your type.”

  I almost snort at the irony of the whole situation. If only Mandy knew how wrong she was. If Mandy or anyone else thinks Abby is ugly, surely they need to undergo eye surgery or something. No woman has ever turned me on as much as Abby Smith just did within moments of meeting her. It’s surprising that anyone would think she’s ugly or refer to those gorgeous curves as fat.

  “Let’s leave the talk about the nurse,” I say dismissively. “What’s the report on the outside?”

  Mandy’s expression turns serious. She sits up in her chair, a sign that doesn’t bode well. I brace myself for the mental hit, leaning entirely against the headboard.

  “It’s not good, Boss,” Mandy says, shaking her head. “Since the hit, operations have ceased, and most of our men have gone under. You know how the streets are loyal only to a steady stream of cash. Don Pablo has almost completed his takeover of downtown. He had men planted in our operation all this while. Anyway, with news of you being dead, the streets belong to Pablo now. And unlike you, he isn’t playing nice. I told you...I told you, Boss. I knew it would be trouble being nice and taking on all those charity cases. What kind of mafia boss plays nice? You carrying on with talks about leaving the streets and leading a better life. I knew the boys wouldn’t be motivated by such talk. There isn’t a better life for them except the streets. Look how easily Don Pablo took us down? It’s because we’ve got heavy leaks. Anyway, I’ve set plans in motion for your return. This time, we’re going to do it the street way. We’re going to....”

  “I’m not planning on returning to the streets, Mandy,” I say, quietly interrupting her.

  Mandy’s eyes go wide in stunned surprise. “What are you talking about, Carlos? Surely you don’t mean that.”

  “That life is no life, Mandy,” I say, shaking my head from side to side. “You know how many lives were lost in the last hit?” My chest constricts as memories of the bloodbath invade my mind. I barely escaped with my life intact. I let myself be dragged away like a fucking coward while my men battled for their lives. Anger, vicious and deathly, thrums in my veins as the memories flash rapidly in my head.

  “But that was an unprovoked attack, Don Pablo is going to pay,” I say through clenched teeth. “I will hit him where it hurts the most and run him off the streets for good.”

  “Revenge,” Mandy says. She leans forward, her eyes passionately lit. “That’s a good start, Carlos. We get our revenge on the Don and rule the streets once more. You can reform as you deem fit, but...leaving? The streets raised you, Carlos? You were made on the streets. You are the king of the street. And you’re going to leave all that? For what? Diamond Investments?” Mandy scoffs loudly and sits back in her chair. “That’s bullshit, Boss.”

  I suddenly feel a heaviness settle over me. Mandy is right. This is the only life I know. It’s what I was born into and the only purpose crafted out for me. Gang life is the only thing I’ve known for all forty-two years of my life.

  But what is this desperate urge to get out?

  Nothing makes sense anymore, and this feeling of unfulfillment is not one that I can describe. People refer to me as the king of the streets, but all I see every time I look in the mirror is an empty shell without essence.

  But could there be something more for me outside of gang life?

  “I’m tired,” I say, running a hand down my face. “I need to rest now.”

  Mandy recognized the command in my tone because she stands. “Yes, Boss.”

  I watch her walk out of the room, feeling my heart sink even deeper in my chest. It seems like I keep letting those around me down with every decision that I take.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Abby

  I can’t seem to stop thinking about that moment in Carlos’s room yesterday. Would he really have kissed me if Mandy hadn’t chosen that moment to intrude?

  I trail a finger slowly along my lower lip and imagine Carlos’s lips on mine. I quickly drop my hand and shake my head vigorously.

  It’s not possible.

  Men like Carlos don’t go around kissing girls like me.

  Besides, it’s not like I want to be kissed by a man like Carlos. He’s a man who distributes drugs and arms on the streets and beyond. I’ve heard tales of the horrors of gang life and have seen what a menace they are to society.

  A man like Carlos is without conscience and humanity. It doesn’t matter that he looks like an archangel carved on a holy day or has a fascinating sense of humor. I’ve heard and read enough about him to know that I should keep my distance from him.

  I save lives for which he has no regard. I don’t have any business thinking about him or the feelings of his lips against mine. I shouldn’t be thinking about his woody scent or the fascinating story behind his tattoos. I shouldn’t be flexing my fingers from the urge to run my fingers through the rich dark strands of his hair or how his stormy dark eyes seem to see right through me.