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Romanian Mob Chronicles

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When a mobster decides he wants you, you’d better be ready…
For his rough demands.
His dark passion.
And possessiveness that accepts no compromise…

I thought the only thing I feared was living another day in the hell my life had become. But when I looked at his hulking, tattooed body, the icy brutality in his eyes, I realized I was wrong.
Familie. My clan.
I’d fight for it, kill for it, die for it. It’s all that matters to me. But her innocence, only barely hidden by thick layers of makeup, the curves that her tight dress can’t hide, calls to me.
So I’ve decided to keep her.
No matter how deadly the consequences.

When my best friend fell in love with a mobster, I thought she’d lost her mind. Until I met his brother…
Love is a lie, a fairy tale.
In my world, all that matters is staying alive, protecting my clan. There’s no room for normal people. No room for people like her. Especially people like her. She’s pushy, nosy, talks way too much, but I can’t make myself stay away.
But I have to. Because if I don’t, it might kill both of us.

I’ve infiltrated the Romanian mob.
It’s dangerous, insane, but it’s the only way to get the justice I deserve, the vengeance I’ve dedicated my life to. So I’ve wormed my way in, gotten close enough to strike. Everything is going according to plan.
Except him…
I don’t trust her.
She puts on a good face, playing the sweet, kindly nurse.
I’m not convinced.
But not trusting her hasn’t stopped me from wanting her.
Because I do want her.
Badly enough to ignore the voice in my head that screams at me to stay away.
Badly enough that I’ll put my honor, my clan, and her life at risk.

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And my gaze clashed with a brooding blue one, one I recognized instantly as Sorin’s teasing anger.
My fear turned to rage in an instant, and I pushed at him, pushed again when he lifted a corner of his mouth and laughed.
“Did I scare you, Esther?” he said, his rich, deep voice rolling through the room.
I pushed him again, halfway considered slugging him, but I half worried that hitting the solid wall of his chest would just hurt my hand.
He leaned against the door, smirking, his hand against my waist hot and heavy and the other still holding my wrist. “So quiet,” he said.
I exhaled, swallowed and then swallowed again, trying to calm my pounding heart before I finally was able to speak. “Dammit, Sorin! What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Vasile said you’d just left. I thought I’d make sure you got home,” he said, still smiling, something I’d seen more of in these last thirty seconds than I had during the months I’d known him. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if seeing me was the reason why, but I quickly pushed that aside.
I glared at him, tried to pull my hand away, but he didn’t release me.
“Come on, Esther, don’t be a bad sport,” he said, his voice dropping lower.
“Ugh!” I said. I clenched my fists and stomped, unable to form words, which only made him laugh harder.
I stomped again, not quite sure what to say, and not quite sure that I had the ability to say it.
As I did, he watched me, and I was suddenly aware of his hand tightening against my waist, the scant inches that separated our bodies, noticed the way his gaze dropped to my breasts before lifting to my eyes.
That heated look was just the spur I needed.
“Why are you here, Sorin?” I whispered.
Instead of responding he pushed away from the door, moving fast until I was pressed against the wall, Sorin looming over me. I had to crane my neck to see his face, the dark obscuring his features. It was unnerving, Sorin’s hands on me, his body nearly touching mine but his face unseen. I’d been this close to him before, that first day when he had tried to keep me out, but this felt different, more intimate, especially the way he stared down at me, imposing body over mine, face in shadow.
“What are we going to do?” he asked.
I scoffed. “What are you talking about? And why are you here?” I repeated.
Even though I could hardly see his eyes, I turned away, unable to withstand the intensity that I felt in his gaze.
“Look at me, Esther,” he said as he leaned forward, his voice soft and demanding. Undeniable.
I lifted my gaze to his again, saw the heat in it.
“I asked you a question. What are we going to do?”
“D-do?” I stopped, swallowed hard. “Do about what?”
“That’s disappointing,” he said, narrowing his eyes.
“You’re playing coy. You didn’t strike me as the type.”
“Sorin, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, impressed when I managed to sound believable because it was a big fat lie. Even before my mind had processed that it was Sorin who’d held me, my body had responded, the gathering dampness between my thighs testament to the fact.
“So you don’t feel it, Esther?”
“Feel what?” I asked, but in reality I knew exactly what he was talking about, and I most certainly felt it.
Felt it in every inch of my body, which practically strained toward him, begging for his touch, felt in it in the butterflies that flitted around my stomach, in the pulse that beat in my chest. But what I didn’t feel was fear. Not anymore.
“You’re a big part of my niece’s life, very important to my sister…”
“She’s not your sister,” I said, voice soft, almost timid.
“Close enough. We’re going to be spending time together, so we need to handle this,” he whispered as he leaned even closer, his breath fanning against my face, his lips centimeters from mine.
“How would you suggest we do that?” I said.
“I think I have an idea.”
Again moving with lightning speed, he turned me so my face was pressed against the wall, his body against mine. Even through the layers of our clothes, I felt the heat of his body, the hardness of his chest, his solid, heavy thighs curved against mine, his hardness against my ass. I almost purred with pleasure, and just barely kept myself from pressing against him harder.
He released his hold on my wrist, and without thought, I lifted my hand to the wall, my fingers curving as I tried to seek purchase. With the hand still on my hip, he pulled me back toward him, his cock grinding against me, his breath on my neck, raising goose bumps across my skin.
“Is this your idea?” I choked out.
“Part of it,” he said.
Then he trailed his fingers across my hip and up to my waistband, the first touch of his rough fingertips against my skin making me exhale sharply. He stayed there for a moment, his thumb teasing my skin, and then he put his other hand on my waist, fingers meeting in the middle of my stomach, hot hands against me making me shiver.
“This will help,” he said as he casually popped open my pants and slid down the zipper.

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Kaye writes hot, gritty, suspenseful romance featuring alpha males and the women who love them.

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