The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance) novel Chapter 155

“Maybe we should revisit the kissing thing. Not sure I can give that up on top of sex and heavy groping. I mean there is only so much I can handle keeping in check. I’m not really that much of a good boy.” Alexi slips me a sexy smile and picks up the kettle when it clicks, to pour us coffee. Watching the steam rise and hit with the heavy aroma as soon as the cups are filled.

“You’re not a good boy at all, that’s part of the charm. I think if we are revisiting the kissing, it requires a proper negotiation. I have to get something back if you are getting free rein to kiss me,” I jest huskily, flirtation coming out all by itself and aware I have slid my arm through his and am pressing my body to his side a little too possessively. Pushed up tight so I can get as much of him as possible.

“You get my tongue in your mouth with all its expertise, several times a day. That’s reward enough.” That arrogant wink and I frown at him.

“You’re so modest.”

“I know. It is exhausting being this amazing twenty-four seven, but I can handle it.” He gives me a wink that just gives me the urge to kick him in the shin. I like his tosser side, yet at the same time, I want to throttle him for it.

“You’re such an arse. An arrogant one.” I giggle at Alexi’s weird humour and let him go when he hands me a black coffee with an overly joyful gaze.

“That’s why you like me! Creamer is in the refrigerator.” I get a kiss on my temple and my smile beams wider of its own accord. Indulgently amused with him and unable to deny that it’s that cocky self-confidence that makes him crazy alluring.

“Who said I do? And thanks, but I think I need black coffee for how rough I feel. Someone got me too drunk and now I’m suffering.” I groan and take a sip as Alexi pulls out his cell again and starts texting. Probably informing Mico that we need him as a cab driver to come get us. Not that I’m sad. I do not want to get back on that death machine while my stomach is already doing the rhumba. He can leave it here till the end of time for all I care. Sitting on his motorbike was not exactly the highlight of my life.

“Should have let me fuck you, it’s guaranteed to cure any hangover.” He pauses between sips of his own black coffee to throw me a loaded look and I sigh at him.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a lie.”

“Well, now you will never know.” He smiles and then leaves me there as he wanders to the nearest armchair and sits down, putting his mug on the trunk and pulls his socks and boots over to put them on. A perk of sleeping in our clothes is we don’t have to get dressed. Just shoes and jackets and out the door. I can shower at the apartment once he goes to see Santagato.

I follow him and sit on the other chair, mirroring what he is doing with my own shoes and catch him glancing my way. Pulling them on quickly. I slept with socks on, unlike him so I achieve my goal faster.

“That’s my favourite sound in the world, you know?”

“What is?” His statement catches me off guard and I wonder what the hell he is talking about. Looking momentarily confused.

“Your laugh, I just don’t hear it enough. Something I aim to change.” It’s a serious observation, no hint of trying to charm at all and it catches me off guard.

I giggle shyly at that revelation, impulsively and blush from my toes to the top of my head. Knocked sideways with the way he just suddenly throws an unexpected sweetness at me; it knocks me off kilter.

“And here I was thinking they had bypassed the romance gene in your creation.” I smile softly, matching the one he gives me, and he goes back to focusing on his laces.

“Yeah well, maybe I can learn some new tricks, just for you.” It’s more of a mumbled response not really asking for a reply and I watch him a little too closely, biting on my bottom lip as a host of inner emotions and feelings collide dramatically. My heart and nether region fighting for dominance, and I shake my head to push both smoochy feeling and the sex-starved one aside.

Like I said, far too potent and I’m way too hungover.

“Do you think he will agree to leave me alone?” I ask nervously, bringing the topic back to Santagato to normalise things between us again. Hoping that if Santagato backs off, then Alexi will lighten up on the overprotective regime he has me on, where I can never leave the building without an escort.

I’m not used to a constant presence after twenty-eight years of surviving alone. I find it claustrophobic and highly stressful. Having reins put on me and caging me in. It makes me want to break free and run.

“That depends on how I deliver it. If he thinks I’m just protecting my asset because you run my club, then yes. If he thinks it’s personal, and I’m in love with you, then he won’t want to lose that edge. I have to play this carefully. This world is all about games, smoke and mirrors. You know this.” Alexi looks serious for a moment, that darkening cloud hovering close by in those eyes of his and sits up to look at me properly, his boots on and tied already.

I still find it weird how readily he says those three little words. After keeping them from me for months and now they slide out of his mouth as easily as any other. I think he is getting used to feeling them on his tongue and the fear of the power they once had over him has evaporated. I guess realising he trusted me and wanted me, made a huge difference to how he saw them.

I push that down along with a dozen other thoughts I don’t have the energy to address this morning.

“Do you think he would try to get at me again if he doesn’t agree?” My nerves return at something I have tried not to think about at all since coming back, but Alexi shrugs.

“Not if he wants to stay breathing. I honestly don’t know. It shocked me the first time because I really thought he knew better. We are allies but not friends. He knows what I would do to someone who crosses me and if I could have proved it already, Santagato would be yesterday’s news.”

I don’t doubt that. You don’t cross a Carrero. Everyone knows that.

“You didn’t confirm it from your security man?” I’m surprised to find that he still isn’t sure. I was convinced all this time that he’d got answers and had solid proof it was him. He has never mentioned doubts before.

“No. He was paid to look the other way by the asshole who tried to take you. I fucked up by putting him down before getting information. It’s not normally my style but seeing him hurting you … I reacted.” Alexi looks away, strangely sombre suddenly and I reach out and touch his hand. I hate it when he gets that sudden look of remorse, as though he thinks his heinous act or a reminder of it will send me running like a bat out of hell. It’s little insecure moments of knowing he can be inhuman and cold with his mother’s words running around in that brain that no one could love a monster like him. I know that’s what it is because my mother left me with the same damage. No one could ever love a worthless little whore who gives men what they want for money.

She was wrong.

Alexi loves me.

His mother was wrong too.

I love him.

“Is that what you did in Miami too? Just reacted?” I don’t know why this comes to mind now, other than wanting to know why he half killed a man that night. We touched on it last night but it was fleeting, and we didn’t delve into details too much.

Another scene in my head of his worst side coming out to play when I least expected it. I have never managed to shake that image. How precise, controlled and violent he can be when he sets his sights on targeting a man. How disconnected he was and the way his brother and cousin had to physically bring him back to the present. He was gone, and it scared me. Knowing he can just zone out and destroy someone like that.

He can definitely hold his own as a fighter, it was almost fluid and instinctive to annihilate another human, all while his mind was God knows where. I wonder if it’s like me when I disconnect while being hurt, my mind taking off to protect its sanity—maybe not. I guess I’ll never understand the red mist that overcame him that night.

Alexi looks back at me, expression softer and slides his fingers around mine, enclosing my hand gently, pulling it closer to him. Warmed by my reaching out to him.

“I came looking for you to say sorry for acting like an asshole. I was drunk and I knew I overreacted. I just saw you with some guy all over you and you were pushing him away. I thought he was hurting you and I didn’t stop to ask questions. I guess seeing some asshole trying to choke you on my desk left a mark and I saw red. It’s an instinct to protect you, I just lost sight of when to stop. The jealousy came when you defended him.” He looks down at our joined hands and frowns at the admission. Another thing he probably hated. My ability to make him jealous of which he had no control, and it made him snap at me and lash all his anger my way once he’d stopped half killing a man. Out of control, bruised from a rejection then told off when he thought he was being my hero.

No wonder he got so mad at me and then took off to cool down and put some distance between us. He didn’t dump me there to make me suffer; he left so he wouldn’t make things worse between us. He was hurting, just as I was.

“It wasn’t about ownership then?” I watch him carefully, feeling stupid now I really think about his actions that night, and he shakes his head. It never dawned on me he would see me in danger and swoop in without stopping to ask.

“Only because you are mine to protect. I would never let anything happen to you. No matter what.” Alexi leans towards me, closing the gap, eyes locked on mine and I don’t hesitate to meet him halfway, getting the kiss he was angling for and it sends my stomach into sizzles and butterflies. Soft, gentle kissing, unobtrusive but fully effective in turning me to mush. We linger together even after he pulls back, his nose brushing mine and there is a moment of something pure and intense before my feeble, fearful self pulls back.

Always shitting a brick at the dumbest moments and running away. I have no courage.

Alexi ignores my fast separation and the way my cheeks colour with it. Suddenly uncomfortable with how easily he draws me in like a moth to a flame. Leaving myself open and vulnerable, despite the pep talks to stop doing that.

“I shouldn’t have said the things I said to you after. I’m sorry. I don’t think, I just react in my normal mode of being a complete asshole. I have a temper.” He mutters it a little defeated, voice low, and again that urge to wipe away that look from him spurs me forward.

“I think we are both guilty of throwing around names and insults when we fight. I’m not innocent in how I am to you. I know I can be extremely vicious. I have been a bitch as much as you have been a jerk.” My face flushes further as I admit it, knowing my sharp tongue and violent outbursts towards him in the past are no better than him calling me a whore or being a dick to me. We can be pretty volatile and explosive when we lose our temper. Too alike in so many ways. Fuelled on impulsive rage and anger towards each other. Equally passionate, even in a negative way.

Alexi’s cell phone rings, breaking the seriousness of our conversation and he looks down at it with a heavy sigh.