His Mafia Queen

Going Home

Going Home

RILEY

Before my eyes even open, I know I'm not in my bed. Not in my apartment. But I don't know where. Am I in my childhood bedroom, in Southie? At Lorna's apartment in the city?

No, it's not Lorna's, because she's dead. This has happened before in recent months, me waking up and not knowing where I am. I chalk it up to a lot of life changes and trauma, but it's terrifying for a fraction of a second nonetheless.

My eyes blink open and I don't recognize anything in this dark room. My heartbeat quickens. It smells like leather and spice and I'm definitely not at home.

And Lorna's dead.

In an instant, it all comes rushing back to me. I'm not in Boston, I'm in Florida. And I'm in Gabriel Greco's bed after a night of sex.

So much sex. More sex than I've ever had in one night. Hell, more sex than I've had in a year. A lifetime, maybe.

I groan and flop onto my back, pressing my hands into my eyes. It almost feels like a dream, everything we did last night. From the kissing at the party to everything that transpired in this very bed...

A mental image of us giving each other oral in the middle of the night pops into my head. Holy shit. I just fucked Gabriel six ways to Sunday, and I'm supposed to be doing a newspaper article on him?

What was I thinking last night? Was I drugged? Drunk?

The answer, of course, is no. I was merely horny. And now I'm ashamed of myself, at allowing my desires to take over and run my life. Ruin my life, and possibly my career.

I groan aloud again. It almost feels like I have a hangover, but without the headache or upset stomach. No, that's just my muscles, all of which feel like I lifted in the gym.

That's the sex.

"You're awake. By the way, happy belated Valentine's Day. I didn't say it last night, but I guess we celebrated nonetheless."

I gasp, startled. Gabriel is walking toward me, carrying a mug of coffee, complete with steam rising from the top. He's wearing what look to be gray sweatpants and nothing else, and I can't help but stare at his chest.

He sets the coffee down next to me, on the nightstand. My gaze goes to his six pack abs and what looks like a fresh bruise marring his otherwise perfect olive skin.

A memory of me sucking on his skin last night flashes in my mind. That's not a bruise. It's a hickey. I sucked on him like a lamprey, and I am horrified.

"Cassie told me how you like your coffee." He leans in and kisses me on the forehead, then notices me staring at him. "Oh, yeah, we got a little carried away last night. Sorry about your neck."

My fingers fly to my neck, to a surprisingly tender spot. Oh, yeah. He bit me. Hard.

Gabriel chuckles softly. "You look like you barely remember last night. Was I that forgettable?"

I sit up, clutching the sheet to my naked chest. "What time is it?"

"Noon. I was going to wake you up earlier, but you looked so peaceful, and we got so little sleep last night. So I went downstairs and did some work. Here, have some coffee."

He hands me the cup. Before I accept it, I tuck the sheet under my armpits so I don't flash him. Why, I'm not sure, considering he explored parts of me last night that only my gynecologist is familiar with.

I sip the coffee. It's delicious, and part of me wants to luxuriate in this bed all day with snacks and a book. But, no, that isn't happening. Gabriel probably wants me out of here now that he's had his fill of my body, and I need to muster some dignity and go home.