Owned by the Mob Boss: A Dark Mafia Romance (Ivanovich Bratva) by Nicole Fox (fantasy books to read .txt) 📕

Erik leaps from the car like I have never seen him before, possessed with rage. He reaches down to the seat and comes out with a thick blade, jogging over to us.

“How do you want to play this?” he says, giving the knife a casual spin. His eyes are burning, his shirt seeming to expand with tensed muscles.

The man lets me go just long enough for me to scramble to the floor. I crawl across the cold concrete, clambering to my feet as Erik steps between us.

The men are transformed, literally quaking like they’re in a cartoon. The leader eyes his two friends, his lips trembling.

“Listen here …”

“Listen?” Erik growls, taking a step forward. He hefts the knife. “Your mother will never know where you are buried. There will be nowhere to lay flowers. I’m going to send a piece of you to every fucking state. Do you understand me? Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with, motherfuckers?”

“Fuck this!” the scrawniest man whines, a vicious gleam to his eyes … and a vicious gleam to the pocketknife he whips out.

I leap back as the fight ensues.

I can’t watch, yet I can’t tear my eyes away, either. Erik ducks aside and shoves his shoulder into the man’s chest, winding him, not even flinching when the blade nicks him in the shoulder.

“Erik!” I cry, looking around for something to use as a weapon. But there is nothing.

The men leap on him as a single unit, all punches and kicks.

For a second, it looks like Erik is going to collapse under the weight, but then he lets out a primal roar and shucks them all off. He kicks one man in the mouth and swiftly elbows another.

The runt with the blade dives at his neck.

Cling!

Erik knocks it aside with his knife. He grabs the man by the shirt, lifts him off his feet, and headbutts him twice. I hear bone crunch.

When he drops him, the man falls in a puddle.

A moment later, they scramble toward the car, panting and whining. I take a grim satisfaction in the bloody trail that drips from the little bastard’s nose, following him all the way to the back seat.

The violence should shock me, surely. I should be disgusted.

But when their car coughs its way out of the parking lot, I find myself intertwined with Erik, kissing him more forcefully than I ever have before. He grabs me with blood-smeared hands, our bodies so close I can feel the tension corded all through him.

Then I step back, panting. “Your arm …”

He gives a savage shrug.

“It is nothing,” he says. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t be silly. Let me take a look at it.”

“It can wait until you are safe,” he says, taking my hand and leading me to the car.

As if life couldn’t get any more bizarre, here we are spooning on the couch.

We’ve been lying like this for hours, talking little, just sinking deeper into the embrace.

If somebody was sitting on the other side of the room they’d be forgiven for thinking: “Oh, look, there’s a happy couple, completely in love. Maybe they’ll turn on The Notebook soon.”

And I don’t even know if I could deny it.

“Thank you for patching me up,” Erik whispers, tracing his fingers along my jawline.

I giggle, turning my head away.

“Wait a second …” Erik props himself up on one elbow. “Are you ticklish, Camille?”

I crane my neck, pouting at him dangerously.

“You better not,” I warn.

“Or what?”

His hand creeps onto my belly. The twisted, smirking sadist…

“Just because I didn’t go all kung fu on those assholes like you, don’t think I can’t defend myself.”

I mean it as a joke, but a troubled look passes across his face at the reminder.

“They are lucky they’re alive,” he says seriously.

“Erik, you wouldn’t …”

I can’t finish the sentence, because I know the answer.

Of course he’d kill them. That’s what hardened criminals do. But, lying here with him, it’s hard to convince myself that these gentle hands belong to the same man who wielded the knife earlier this evening.

“They would have deserved it,” he says. “A teenage girl, you said …” He shakes his head. “Men like that do not deserve mercy.”

“Did you see how scared they were? I know I shouldn’t laugh.”

But I do. I can’t help it.

Erik is waking things up inside me I never guessed at. This newfound emotion is one thing, but taking pleasure in fear? Even if they’re the biggest assholes in the universe, surely I shouldn’t be able to make light of it so quickly. But then I bring that train of thought to a crashing stop. I can’t keep judging myself, criticizing myself.

I’ll drive myself insane.

“What are you thinking?” he asks.

“Who says I’m thinking anything?” I counter.

“You get a dreamy look in your eyes.”

I shut my eyes.

“Well, now you’ll have no idea.”

He hugs me closer. I grab onto his arm, burying my face in it, smelling his cologne and shower gel and his musky natural scent.

“Why did you call me?” he asks a moment later.

“What’d you mean?” I mutter.

“Why not call the police? That would have been the smart choice.”

“Hmm.”

I haven’t given it any thought, in truth, which is itself a sign. He’s right. It was just an instinct.

“I don’t know,” I say after a long pause. “I guess it just felt right.”

“I am glad.”

He pulls me closer, his crotch pressing against my ass. I give my hips a shake, loving the feeling of making him hard, loving how responsive his body is to me.

“You can always call me for help, no matter what. I hope you know that.”

We lie in silence for a few minutes. Then I stretch my arms out, yawning.

“Bed in five?”

He laughs deeply. It must be the fifth time I’ve said that.

“Sure,” he says, as he did before.

But this time he smooths his hand down my body, massaging my breasts and my belly and finally my thighs. I push back with my ass, grinding it against his manhood. This