Page 16 of Texting My Mafia Boss

“You don’t strike me as someone overly concerned with boundaries.”

She leans forward. I was wrong about her cleavage. Fuck. I was very wrong. Her top rides down a little, revealing the top of her breasts. This beautiful, sassy woman has no idea the power she has over me. At least, I hope I’m hiding it.

She prods at the drawing on the table. “If I was a little girl who drew this, I’d want my nanny to take it seriously. So yeah, I overstepped.”

I’m not as good at dominating as I thought just a moment ago.

“You’re admitting you’ve gone too far with your employer, then,” I say.

“How do you normally punish employees who misbehave?” she asks, head cocked.

I must be imagining the breathiness in her voice. The rise and fall of her chest. I’m starting to ache like some goddamn beast who can’t keep his impulses in check.

“I’ve allowed you to text me, which wasn’t part of the original arrangement.”

“Allowed me,” she repeats.

I place my arms on the table and lean in close to her, expecting her to move back. But she doesn’t cower.Sheleans in closer. I can feel her breath on my face. Nerves gleam in her pretty eyes, but not enough. She’s more confident than most mobsters.

“Allowed you,” I growl. “Yes. Do you disagree with my choice of words?”

“You can fire me,” she says. “Or you can punish me. But you don’t get a say in what I do and don’t do. If I do something you think is wrong, then fine, I’ll take the consequences.”

“Most women in your position would be apologizing.”

“How wonderful for them,” she says sarcastically.

When I smirk, she smiles too. It’s a quick moment of acquiescence. But I’m quick to rein in my expression. She leans back, folds her arms. Her breasts pressed together. I’ve got no clue if she’s trying to play me on purpose, but she’s certainly distractingly alluring.

“Who do you work for, Mara?” I ask huskily.

“You,” she whispers.

The air crackles with tension. We’re staring at each other. Eye-fucking each other, truth be told. It’s like in the gym when there was this unspoken hunger in the air, both of us knowing how easy it would be to give in to these impulses.

Or—I’m the cliché boss, seeing signs that aren’t there, wishing all this into existence. I refuse to be that man.

I stand, looming over her. She licks her dry lips and stares up at me. This position doesn’t require much imagination. Sitting in front of me, a mouth watering view of her cleavage.

“It’s time to apologize, Mara,” I say.

“Is that so?”

I step forward. I keep my hands stubbornly at my sides so I don’t reach forward and slide them into her hair, guide her to me, use my nanny right here on the front porch like an unhinged madman.

Like a Don who takes what the fuck he wants.

CHAPTER 7

MARA

My heart is pounding, and my body is… on fire. I can’t deny it. My initial intention was to defend his daughter, but it has evolved into this situation.

I don’t know if this is all in my head. More than once, I’m convinced his dark eyes have strayed to my breasts and legs.

It feels like his eyes are feasting on me. Do I want him to, need him to?

No.Need?He’s hot, and he’s close, and he’s looking at me like he wants to make good on these physical promises. But I don’tneedanything.